Courting Trouble: Running with the Devil Book 6

by Jasmin Quinn

  Hugo was no art connoisseur by any means but he was impressed with what he saw. “You’re very talented,” he said to Marisol and was rewarded with a warm smile. She really was lovely, a delicate presence that made Hugo want to gentle himself. He still couldn’t figure out how someone as soft as she was could handle someone as hard as Anto. With Anto, there was no give. He’d win all the time.

  “It gets better.” Anto grinned like a cat who’d swallowed the canary. “Marisol’s father is the former Chief Constable of the Vancouver City Police force.”

  And that entrenched Hugo’s belief that they were in an alternate universe. He forced a smile, sat down, and a took a draw on his beer. This was all wrong. He wanted to say that to Anto, but he didn’t want to say it in front of the woman. Instead, he said, “I should go.” And stood up again.

  “Sit down, for fuck’s sake,” Anto barked. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still Savisin’s grunt.”

  Marisol looked between the men, not startled or upset. Just knowing. “I should go and let you two talk.” She disengaged from Anto but not before he planted a passionate kiss on her lips that caused a blush to her face. “Very nice to meet you, Hugo.”

  Hugo nodded and watched Anto watch Marisol as she walked away. Never had he ever in his fucking lifetime thought he’d see this day. As soon as the redhead was out of sight and earshot, Hugo leaned towards Anto. “I’ve always been straight with you, Kharzin. So if you’re going to fuck me up for some reason, could you just let me know now? I have a boatload of problems of my own and I need a little help with the sorting of them. If you’re not the one I should be reaching out to, then I should go.”

  Anto didn’t smile. In fact, he seemed a little pissed. “You think a woman would change who I am? Marisol is mine, she’s part of my life, I’m not part of hers.” He paused, frowned at the thought, then added. “Most of the time. You know me well enough to know that.”

  “Her father’s a fucking cop.” Hugo knew he was toeing the edge of Anto’s line, but he needed to say it.

  “Yeah.” Anto grinned, seeming to find it humourous that he was fucking the Chief’s daughter. “He wasn’t that happy about me and Marisol, but he lets me come over for Sunday dinner. You could join us if you’re in town long enough.”

  Hugo shook his head as if it would clear the craziness. “Not a fucking chance, you Russian prick. Are you nuts?”

  Anto considered this, then nodded slightly, his lower lip jutting out. “A little. Marisol has made me a little bit that way. I don’t know why. Well, I do know why. She’s the missing piece for me. I would kill anyone who tried to touch her. In any way. Her dad knows that. He respects that. Marisol is safe with me as long as I’m breathing.”

  Hugo considered Anto as he emptied his beer. So fucking weird that he was having this conversation with this dangerous asshole while there was a woman on his boat that did the same fucking thing for him that Marisol did for Anto. Filled in the missing pieces.

  He dropped the bottle on the table and shoved himself out of his seat. “I need another.” He didn’t wait for Anto to offer, just walked to the wet bar, opened the fridge and pulled one out.

  “Bring the vodka,” Anto said as Hugo twisted the cap off the beer bottle and tossed it on the bar top. “Time we talked about you.”

  Hugo grabbed a bottle of stellar Russian vodka – at least he thought it was stellar, he didn’t touch hard liquor. It fucked with his head. He brought his beer and the vodka back to the chair and reseated himself, taking a swallow of his beer and placing the vodka bottle on the coffee table. “Can I trust you?”

  “Of course you can. You can trust me until you can’t anymore.”

  Hugo was feeling churlish. During the long fucking drive up to Vancouver his mind had generated several possibilities of how he was going to find Tony West. He kept landing on Anto because he knew the Russian had a long reach. He didn’t know that much about him, but he knew enough to know that Anto would help him out. Had known, he amended. “I need to be able to trust you. I got a 20-million-dollar problem on my boat.”

  Anto grinned. “Sounds like fun. Let’s hear it.”

  “I’m looking for a guy.”

  Anto threw back his head and roared his laughter. “I would’ve never pegged you as a princess, Hugo.”

  Hugo glared. “I got his wife on my boat. His widow. Except by all accounts, he isn’t really dead.”

  Anto was still chuckling. “So what are you trying to do? Reconcile the happy couple?”

  Hugo wasn’t sure he liked this Anto. He needed the serious motherfucking Russian who would clock you just for breathing too loudly. He shook his head and said in the meanest voice he had, “No. Thinking I just want to kill the sonofabitch and marry his wife.”

  Anto grinned toothily. “Maybe we could have a double-wedding.”

  Hugo felt churlish. “Yeah, that’s just what I fucking need. A churchful of cops.”

  Anto chuckled, then leaned forward, pulled the bottle of vodka towards him, poured another shot in his glass. Serious now, to Hugo’s relief. “Why don’t you just tell me, Hugo? If I can’t help, if there’s a conflict. If you’ve waded into shit that’s gonna get you killed, I’ll tell you. Give you a head start. Okay?”

  Hugo nodded and took a swallow of his beer. “Yeah.” He may as well. Anto didn’t have to give him a head’s up about the woman or her father. He did for a reason, a show of trust. Hugo should repay him in kind. He told the story. Everything. How Olivia owed Jack Creed, why she owed him, how Jack Creed had an offer of $20 million for her. How Hugo had paid the debt, essentially buying Olivia. How Olivia’s dead husband wasn’t really dead.

  Anto listened closely, not interrupting until Hugo ran out of words. Then Anto said, “I gotta see this woman. I never met one worth $20 mil.”

  “That’s the fucking problem, Anto. Me neither. I can’t help but think there’s a connection between the outrageous offer and Olivia’s not-so-fucking dead husband. Like maybe the guy offering is also looking for him.”

  “What’s the husband’s name?”

  “Tony West, Anthony sometimes.” Hugo watched Anto’s face carefully for any flicker of recognition, but Anto’s expression didn’t waver.

  “Sounds familiar but pretty generic kind of name. Don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

  “Yeah, me neither. Supposedly his plane went down over the Ionian Sea. He and seven others died on board.”

  Hugo saw a little flicker of something on Anto’s face, but it was gone just as quickly. Maybe Anto knew where the Ionian Sea was.

  “I got two more questions. Why would Creed pass up $20 mil and give you the girl instead?”

  Hugo shrugged, didn’t want to get too far into it. “She helped Creed out with a problem a while back. I helped Creed out with a problem recently. Maybe he’s playing matchmaker.”

  Anto didn’t appear completely satisfied with the answer but shrugged as he took a swallow of his drink. “Who’s the guy offering the big bucks?”

  Hugo scratched at his cheek. “A guy named Jackman. Never heard of the fuck.”

  But Anto, who was so good at schooling his thoughts, reacted. Just a flicker of surprise, of recognition in his eyes. The hesitation before he responded. “Me neither.”

  The fucker had just lied to him.

  CHAPTER 27

  After Hugo left, Anto returned to the couch, poured another measure of vodka into his glass and took a drink. For maybe the first time in his life, he didn’t quite know what to do. He looked up as Marisol entered the room and slipped down beside him. He tucked his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. Every fucking time he looked at her, he got horny. She was his poison, sweet as it was. He almost pushed her head to his crotch. A blow job would help him think and Marisol gave such good ones.

  She didn’t know he was thinking that though. She said, “Can you share?”

  Anto looked down at the top of her head. She was saying that more and more often and he was sharing more
and more often, because for the first time in his life, he had someone to talk to. Someone to bounce things off (yes, he included his cock in the bouncing), and he was sharing more with her, maybe more than he should, but he was always a little careful with the details. Always wanted to make sure that he didn’t share too much of the violence.

  “Hugo’s what you might call an independent contractor. Faithless and faithful. Want something done, call Hugo. Pay him a lot of fucking money. The job gets done.”

  “An assassin?”

  “Not really.” Anto stopped.

  “A friend?”

  Anto considered this. Was Hugo a friend? Maybe. He liked the big guy and if the day came when he’d have to break his neck, he’d be sad over it. “He’s got women problems.”

  Marisol giggled and it warmed his heart to hear her say, “Don’t you all.”

  “Maybe we should just fuck, Marisol, and talk later.”

  Marisol’s hand stole down the front of his chest to his jeans, dropping her fingers around the bulge in his crotch. “Tell me first. Then you can have whatever you want.”

  Anto shifted, groaned, took her hand in his and pressed it harder against his groin. “The woman he has is looking for her husband. Husband’s supposed to be dead but word on the street is he isn’t. Hugo and the woman aren’t the only ones looking for him. Jackman’s trying to get his hands on her. Willing to pay big bucks so I think something’s going on. More than just a runaway husband.” Marisol knew about Jackman, knew about Anto’s double-life. Was aware of the level of danger Anto was in and she, by default. It made him sick when he thought about it, thought about losing Marisol.

  “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “Anthony West. Name’s familiar, but not really. Rusya might know.”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “Later, I’m going to call Rusya and ask him. Now, I’m going to make you come three times, twice while you’re blowing me, then we’re going to fuck until neither of us can stand up.”

  He watched as the colour rose in Marisol’s cheeks. He loved that she still blushed, no matter that they’d been together for a couple of months. No matter that he’d fucked her every which way, made her come, cry his name, beg him ‘til he relented. He still made her blush and each time he touched her, it felt like the first time. He couldn’t wait to be married.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  After, when they finally got the feeling back in their legs, Marisol left to take a shower. He felt himself growing hard again as he watched her walk away, holding her discarded clothes, naked and unabashed. That’s what it was always like after he wore her down, stripped of her reserve. Until she had a little time between the fucking. Then she’d get shy all over again. His heart was so full. And then when he thought of what was next, he turned cold. He didn’t deserve her, shouldn’t have put her in his dangerous world. Selfish of him to do it. If she got killed because of him, he would destroy the world.

  Anto walked a dangerous line, second in command to Rusya Savisin, vicious Vancouver Russian mob boss, a man he respected and loved, but he was also supposedly loyal to Jackman, who was Rusya’s enemy. Jackman, the man who rescued him from a certain death in a Russian prison and planted him in Rusya’s court. He’d been with Rusya so fucking long, he couldn’t even remember why he owed Jackman anything. Too many people knew of his duplicity. It was only a matter of time before Rusya found out. Then he’d be done. There’d be nowhere to hide. The only way out was to confess to Rusya and try to make him see the truth of Anto’s loyalty.

  The way he currently dealt with his reality was to ignore it. He couldn’t pretend forever that it wasn’t there, but for now, he had bigger fish to fry. He grinned at the metaphor. Hugo was a fish, all right. A big fuckin’ whale. He picked up his cell phone from the table as he lolled on the couch naked. Marisol didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t done with her. He called Rusya Savisin.

  “Rusya,” he said, getting straight to the point when the mob boss picked up. “I’ve had a visitor looking for someone by the name of Anthony West.”

  “Why?”

  Anto grinned at the phone. Rusya was always spare with his words, but for him to ask why instead of who, or anything else, was telling. Rusya didn’t like games, Anto wouldn’t play with him. “So you know him then?”

  “A sidekick of Randall Scott’s. You didn’t answer my question.”

  “His widow is looking for him.”

  Rusya was quiet for moment. “That’s interesting. Did she show up on your doorstep?”

  Anto grinned because his next words were going to be even better than his last words. “Nope, but her boyfriend did. Hugo Marsden.”

  Rusya barked a harsh laugh to Anto’s satisfaction. “Hugo with a woman?”

  “Yeah. Strange isn’t it?” Anto knew the irony wouldn’t be lost on Savisin.

  Rusya was quiet for a moment, thinking. Anto was used to that. Then he said, “I had been thinking about Marsden, wondering if he was in the neighbourhood. Thought maybe he could solve that little problem we’re about to have with Randall Scott.”

  Randall Scott, dangerous fuck, sleazy and conniving, even by criminal standards because he passed himself off as a good upstanding citizen and fooled too many fuckin’ people. “Yeah. Hugo’s the guy to do it.”

  “Can you get him a date and invite him to the political fundraiser on Saturday? I heard a rumour that Scott was going to be meeting with Okada at the event.”

  Anto leaned forward and poured himself a small measure of vodka, settling the glass on his bare thigh. “Think Hugo has a date already. Can we make sure that Anthony West isn’t invited – we don’t want the widow and her dead husband crossing paths too soon.”

  “Yes, I can do that. I doubt West is going to turn up at something like the fundraiser. Too high-profile, too many people. He seems to be keeping his head down. I think he knows there’s heat on him.”

  Anto grunted. “Okay. I’ll brief Hugo on what we want from him – he does the job we need, we give West up to him.” He ended the call and tossed the phone on the table.

  What Anto didn’t tell Rusya was that there was a whole lot more going on than just a widow looking for her deadbeat husband. Jackman was also somehow involved. Anto didn’t quite know why he didn’t tell Rusya about Jackman. Thought maybe he needed to have a chat with Mrs. West. He had a feeling that he’d have to go through Hugo to do that, unless he distracted him, which is why the little double-date on Saturday night was going to be so much fun.

  He tossed back his vodka and stood up, still naked, took a long stretch, arms over his head, hands clasped. Feeling limber and energized, he headed up the stairs. It was time he and Marisol made some couple friends. Well not this minute. Marisol should be out of the shower by now and ready for round two.

  CHAPTER 28

  Hugo was almost at the marina when his phone rang. It was Anto.

  “Miss me already?” Hugo said as he pulled into a parking spot and turned off the jeep.

  Anto laughed. “I did, Hugo. Next to Marisol, you are my favourite.”

  “I’m flattered, Anto, but I’m still not going to fuck you.”

  “You’re too ugly for me anyway.” And then the sparring stopped. Hugo knew Anto was calling for a reason. Waited until the Russian spoke again.

  “I talked to Rusya. He thinks he can help with the husband problem.”

  “That’s very gracious of him, Anto. Savisin doesn’t give away his favours. What’s he want?”

  “He wants me and you to go on a double-date to a party.”

  “You mean, bring the women? Because if that’s what you mean, it’s not going to happen. I’m not putting Olivia in the line of fire.”

  “Don’t be fuckin’ insulting.” Anto’s voice was low, cool. The kind of tone he used just before he clocked you. Hugo had a moment of relief that the conversation was taking place by phone. “It’s by invitation only, but it’s a political fundraiser so lots of upstanding public figures are goi
ng to be there. The women will drink wine, stand around and look pretty. I’ll be keeping my eye on them while you do the job.”

  Hugo considered Anto’s words. He thought Blondie would love a dress-up party. He sure wouldn’t mind showing up at some fancy event with her on his arm. Every fucking male in the room would be drooling, especially if he got her the right dress. “What’s the job?”

  “Randall Scott is expecting a Japanese guest. Going to be having a private meeting. Rusya doesn’t want that meeting to take place.”

  “So you want me to distract Scott. Maybe take him for a walk?”

  “No. Scott’s untouchable. Take his guest out. Keep them separated. Make sure the meeting doesn’t happen.”

  “What’s the meeting about?”

  “Irrelevant.”

  “Not irrelevant, you prick. Untouchable Randall Scott is meeting with some Japanese guy about something. The Russian godfather doesn’t want it to happen. Is the guy Yakuza?” Yakuza – Japanese mafia, dangerous fucks. Hugo had always kept a safe distance from them. They played at a whole other level of crazy, had a different code.

  “Yes. Not dangerous, Hugo. Keep them separated is all.”

  “How am I supposed to do that without retaliation by the Yakuza? I’m going to presume the guy is well guarded.”

  “No weapons at the party. No one walks in with them. Everyone’s scanned. You can take out a couple of little ninjas, can’t you?”

  “What are you going to do while I’m roughing up the ninjas?”

  Hugo could almost hear Anto’s grin. “I’ll be entertaining the ladies. I’ll keep an eye on your girlfriend while you get the job done.”

  Hugo imagined how that would go. Relief shot through him that Anto was in the family way, that Marisol would be on his arm. Olivia was the kind of woman that would turn Anto’s head, tall, curvy, perfect. He still couldn’t fathom it – Anto willingly tying himself to a woman. Marisol was beautiful for sure, but in such a soft way.