Courting Trouble: Running with the Devil Book 6

by Jasmin Quinn

  She’d been sitting on the sofa, her boots off, her feet tucked under her, leaning against the soft armrest, staring out at the ocean, thinking of Hugo. Thinking that she probably loved him. No, didn’t just probably love him, really loved him. When the boss said hello, she damned near jumped through the window.

  She stood, looked around for Mack, who, to her dismay, was nowhere to be found. She didn’t want to be alone with the new guy. He was a little too intense for her. Jackman, he said, that was his name. He was tall, toned, not very good at hiding his emotions. He seemed edgy, prowling around the room like a lion, stroking Olivia with his eyes. Curious, attracted to her. She could tell. But in a completely disinterested way. She’d be a good fuck for him, nothing else. The usual, Olivia thought. It made her cranky. Cranky made her reckless.

  “So is it Jackman or do you have a first name?”

  “Jackman or Mr. Jackman, whatever you want.” He shrugged carelessly, his accent like Anto’s, but more pronounced. The cut of his suit was expensive, fitting him like a glove, an arrogant lift to his lips, a grace to his stance. Sexy man. Not sexy like Hugo though.

  Olivia felt like she was undergoing a job interview. He seemed to be gauging how she’d react to his choices of names. She said, “Well. I’m not going to call you Mr. Jackman. Fuck, it’s like we’re in an episode of the Blacklist. I’ll call you Jack.”

  Jackman squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Call me Dimi.”

  Olivia felt the thrill of victory and smiled widely at him. Probably the wrong thing to do as Dimi seemed not to have a lot of patience.

  “Sit the fuck down,” he growled at her. She complied. Better to not bait the Russian bear. He went to the bar and poured himself a whiskey or something that looked like whiskey. Straight up, no ice. Tossed it back, poured another.

  “That can’t be good for the liver,” Olivia observed.

  He turned to her. “Want one?”

  “Yeah.”

  He picked up another glass and the bottle and came over, sat down on the sofa next to her making her immediately regret she didn’t sit in one of the chairs. He smelled good enough, but not anywhere like Hugo, who just smelled all man-like, spicy, sweaty, musky. She got a little wet – eyes and pussy. Picked up the scotch – she could see now that it was scotch – and tossed it back like Dimi had. She coughed as it hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down like a sailor, wiped her hand across her lips and reached for the bottle.

  “I hope you got more of this,” she said as she lifted the refreshed glass to her lips. “Or it’s going to be a long fucking day.”

  Jackman rewarded her with a smile and she thought he was okay, she was going to be okay. Then he said, “Olivia, I’m in the mood for murder and I’m not all that fussy about who I kill. Prefer to kill your husband, but I’d settle for you.”

  Her throat closed and she choked on the whiskey.

  CHAPTER 44

  I hope you got more of this, or it’s going to be a long fucking day.

  Funny girl, Jackman thought as she raised the glass to her lips. She really didn’t know where the line was, didn’t understand restraint. She should be more afraid than she was. Jackman decided to help her understand that. “Olivia, I’m in the mood for murder and I’m not all that fussy about who I kill. Prefer to kill your husband, but I’d settle for you.”

  He gained some satisfaction at watching her choke and sputter. She was good at hiding her fear, but he saw it in the subtle shifting of her ass, the straightening of her spine. He loved that she was sitting on the sofa, that he could sit beside her. He left about six inches between them. He felt like a wolf playing with its dinner. He waited while she regained her composure, waited for her comeback.

  “My husband’s dead,” she said, taking a smaller, more careful sip of the scotch.

  Good one. Point to Olivia.

  “I know, I killed him.” Counterpoint.

  Olivia swiveled her head and stared at him. “You killed Tony?” He could see by the confusion in the depth of her eyes that she wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. He helped her out.

  “Not me, exactly. My organization. He worked for me for a long time, Olivia. Pretty good agent until he knocked you up. Then he got distracted. That made him a liability.”

  “So you killed him?”

  “I gave him the option of making you a widow on paper or making you a widow permanently. He chose the former.”

  “Yeah, so I heard.”

  Jackman was having fun, which didn’t often happen. He was too serious all the time, he thought. He needed to relax more. This curvy blonde woman had a lot going on. Intelligent and naive at the same time. And she was losing her sense of caution again. She was getting pissy. He didn’t respond to her scowl, her words. Reached for the bottle, topped up their glasses. Waited. Not long though.

  “So we both want to find Tony, both want to kill him. Don’t you spymasters put tracking chips in your employees?”

  Jackman smiled as he stared into the amber liquid swirling in the glass he was holding. “He’s done me wrong, Olivia. Got a few of my trustworthy agents killed. Almost got a very good man killed by Ruysa Savisin and his thugs. Lucky for you and everyone else he didn’t die.”

  “Why lucky for me?” Olivia took a swallow of the scotch. She was not a drinker, he could tell. Kind of cute the way she grimaced each time she swallowed. And the scotch was the very best money could buy. It would go down smooth for anyone who loved their scotch. Like he did. “You think that Tony’s going to show up here and trade his life for mine?”

  Jackman watched her as she said that. She didn’t believe for a minute that Tony would give his life up for her. Neither did he anymore.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She turned to him, her eyes as startling blue as the big sapphire on her ring finger. She was downright provocative. “Tony’s a prick – we both got shafted by him.”

  Jackman laughed to himself. She was going for the ‘common ground’ card. “He’s good at disappearing. Not even my very best agent could locate him. But she was able to track you down.”

  Olivia shrugged. “I’m kind of easy to find.”

  Time to switch topics. “Where’d you get that big beautiful rock, Olivia.” He shifted so he was looking more fully at her. It made her edgy. She put the whiskey glass on the table, tried to shift subtly further from him and nervously twisted the ring with her fingers.

  “A friend.”

  “Friend got a name?”

  Olivia turned towards him, a frown creasing her pretty face. Trying to decide, said something under breath, sounded like, just the fuck tell him. Then she said, “Name’s Hugo.”

  He grinned. “You really do have friends in low places, don’t you?”

  She rose to his bait, “He’s got pretty fucking good taste in jewelry.”

  Jackman laughed. He couldn’t help himself. She was so innocently charming. Nothing hidden inside her head. She didn’t have a real clue how she was perceived. “And women. I think he tried to call me yesterday, through a friend of his. But I wanted to talk to you first. See what the deal was.”

  “And what exactly is the deal, Dimi?”

  He was going to enjoy the next few minutes immensely, because she didn’t know. “I made an error of judgement a week or so ago. I would have paid $20 million dollars to get my hands on your dead husband.”

  Olivia paled. “You must really be pissed at him.”

  “You have no idea, Olivia.”

  “Who’d you offer the 20 mil to?” She stopped, looked thoughtful, eyes a little confused. “Please tell me it wasn’t Hugo.”

  If Jackman were more of a gameplayer, he’d have strung her out a little bit. But he didn’t want to. Thought the truth would piss her off enough. “No. Hugo and I don’t run in the same circles. Didn’t really know about him until I offered the cash and was turned down.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me.” Olivia forgot that they were talking about her dead husband. “Who
the hell would turn down $20 million dollars?”

  “Jack Creed.”

  Confusion flickered across Olivia’s face. “I’m missing something here. Why would you offer Jack 20 mil for Tony?”

  “I didn’t. You see, I thought the way to get to Tony was through his widow. I offered 20 million for you.”

  She moved fast, stood up, scurried across the room, turned to face him, her back to the window, her eyes a little wider. “Are you kidding me? I’m not Jack’s to sell.” She was flushing, scared now. Didn’t realize how deep in she really was until that moment.

  “I think Mr. Creed thought differently, because he seemed to think that 20 million would be a good way to offset the debt you have to him.”

  Olivia looked close to tears. “So he sold me to you?” Her voice cracked. She sounded hurt, betrayed. She wasn’t quite there yet though.

  “Nope, I’m afraid he turned me down. Said he had a better offer.”

  Olivia swallowed. “Who?”

  “Who gave you that ring, Olivia?”

  CHAPTER 45

  Who gave you that ring, Olivia?

  The Russian fuck was sitting on the sofa looking as smug as a weasel in a hen house.

  And her world crashed and burned. The bubble burst. Fuck, fuck, “Fuck!” Tears were burning in her eyes. She didn’t want asshole Mr. Dimi Jackman seeing her cry. She folded her arms across her chest and turned from him, staring out at the ocean, staring at nothing. Trying to process what she just heard. “Hugo paid 20 million for me?” her voice cracked.

  The fuck on the sofa said in his cool, Russian voice, “No, I believe Creed gave him a deal. Pay your debt and get you out of Vegas.”

  Olivia didn’t know what to think. Creed sold her to Hugo for the cost of her debt. Creed, who didn’t own her, but did own her, thought he could solve his problems and hers all at once. Noble of Jack to turn down a 20-million-dollar payday. She needed to compartmentalize. One fucking thing at a time. “Why would he do that? Turn down 20 million? My debt was a fraction of that.”

  Jackman shrugged, picked up the bottle, poured a measure of the scotch in both glasses. Pushed one towards her. “Maybe they’re fuckbuddies. Creed and I aren’t in love.”

  She walked over, picked up her scotch, tossed it back. Got a sudden sense of why the bad guys drank so much. “So Hugo bought and paid for me?” It was all making sense now. How he treated her, when he said he kind of owned her. Asking her to marry him. Why? To ease his conscience? Why the fuck didn’t he just tell her?

  She rubbed at her eyes. She was tired, a little drunk, a whole lot of hurt. She dropped down on the couch beside Jackman, forgetting for a moment that he was a dangerous fuck. She reached for her glass. What kind of world did she live in? “So you couldn’t buy me legitimately…” she stopped, cackled at her words, “so you decided to take me instead. Because we were looking for Tony and so were you. And now you think Hugo will help you out, because you took something that belonged to him.” Then she added, looking sideways at him, “Which I don’t, by the way.”

  Jackman nodded, a smirk on his lips, “See how easy that was, Olivia. Once you knew the whole truth?”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, checked the recent calls, showed her. Someone wants to get hold of me pretty fucking bad. “Think it’s your owner?”

  “Don’t be a prick, Dimi,” she muttered.

  CHAPTER 46

  The call from Jackman came as they were finishing breakfast. Hugo could barely eat. In part because he was so fucking worried about Olivia, but also because Marisol kindly offered to make breakfast and he didn’t know how someone could ruin eggs, bacon and toast so profoundly. Anto ate like there was no tomorrow, inhaling his food, what was left on Marisol’s plate and then cleaned Hugo’s up too. The man had to be in love not to notice how bad the food was.

  They moved into the living room to take the call. Marisol disappeared.

  “Jackman,” Anto said.

  “Anto,” Jackman replied. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

  “Looking for a friend of a friend.”

  “Tall curvy blonde?”

  “Yeah, sounds like her. She needs to come home.”

  “Your friend there with you?”

  Anto hesitated. Hugo leaned over. “I’m here, you prick.”

  “You can have her back for $20 mil.”

  Hugo sucked in his breath. This was going to get ugly. He wasn’t wrong.

  “Hugo, you fucking bought me from Jack?” Olivia’s voice, not fearful, not relieved to hear his voice. Nope, pissed as a viper, ready to beat the shit out of him.

  “Had no choice, Liv. Creed was going to sell you to that Russian asshole.” He really didn’t want to be having this conversation now. Not in front of Anto, not in front of Jackman. He hoped she would understand the delicacy of the situation. Hoped she would just fade into the background, let Jackman tell him what he wanted. How to get her back.

  His hopes were shattered. “So instead, because you’re golfing buddies, he offered you the discounted price?” Olivia’s voice had risen a notch. She wasn’t taking the news well.

  Hugo groaned. She was not only pissed because he bought her, but also because he got her for the bargain basement price tag. “Yeah, Liv. Because we’re golfing buddies. And maybe he has a soft spot for you. Didn’t want to send you to Count Drac’s castle to live out your days as his chew toy.”

  “Jack Creed’s a fuck. You’re a fuck!” Her words slurred a little bit.

  Hugo wanted to kill someone. Anyone, but Jackman would be his preference. “Jackman, have you fucking drugged her?”

  “I have not. She and I were just having a drink. Olivia’s a fan of fine scotch.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s 9-fucking-30 in the morning, Olivia!”

  Jackman said, “I didn’t realize your love slave wasn’t allowed to drink or I would have curtailed it.”

  Hugo said, “You fucking touch her, Jackman and I’ll –”

  “You’ll what?”

  “At least he was willing to pay 20 million for me.” Olivia again.

  “Liv, he wasn’t paying 20 million for you. He was paying 20 million to get to your husband.” Hugo searched around for his patience, which seemed to be buried beneath his exasperation.

  “I see, so it’s the same as you not wanting Anto to know Marisol showed her legs to the Japanese, because he’d wipe the carpet with them! But it’s okay if I do!”

  Jackman bellowed his laugh.

  Anto furrowed his brow and said, “What?”

  Hugo sucked in his breath. “Nothing, she’s drunk.”

  “I’m not fucking drunk, you asshole!”

  Hugo lost his temper. “Shut the fuck up, Olivia. Now! Jackman get her out of there so we can get down to the nuts and bolts of what you want.”

  “Go to hell, Hugo!” Olivia shouted.

  Jackman, still chuckling, said, “Anto, are you sure Hugo wants her back?”

  Anto replied grimly, “He’ll take her back if you pay him 20-million.”

  Jackman sounded like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Then he stopped laughing abruptly. Hugo heard Olivia squeak in the background. “Here’s the nuts and bolts, Marsden. Find Tony West, Deliver him to me. I give you back your girlfriend in one piece. 24 hours. Any longer and I start giving her back in pieces. After a week, I don’t give her back at all.” He ended the phone call.

  Hugo stood. Paced the length of Anto’s living room. “Fuck!”

  “What did Olivia mean about Marisol and the Japanese bodyguards?” Anto’s face was confused, his eyes narrowed.

  “Nothing, Anto. She was drunk. She and Marisol spent some time together at the fundraiser. Probably had a good girlfriend sharing session.”

  Anto seemed uncertain, looked like he couldn’t decide whether to toss Hugo over the balcony or let it go. Hugo dropped his eyes, decided to wait it out. The silence stretched and when Hugo glanced up, Anto was staring off across the room, deep in
thought. Silence. For maybe the first time in a long time, neither could think of what to say. Anto reached for his phone, tapped in another number, waited until the call was picked up.

  “Dean, I have a question. Who was your handler while you were in Vancouver?”

  He listened then said, “Thought so.” Hung up without saying goodbye. Looked over at Hugo.

  “I know why Jackman wants him.” He stood, a grim look of determination in his frown. “Let’s go find the fucker.”

  Hugo let out a relieved breath.

  CHAPTER 47

  Twenty-four hours! West had been within an arm’s reach of Hugo and he just fucking let him walk out of the Massey Club. Let him walk away. He should have tackled him, tied him up and stored him on the boat until someone came knocking. Now he had to track him down and pick him up. West was suspicious of Hugo from the get-go. Hugo had the sense that he might disappear. Go to ground. It’s what he would do in the same circumstance. But Tony didn’t have the big picture. He didn’t know that Jackman had Olivia. He didn’t know that Anto and Hugo were on his tail.

  While the dead-beat husband might be a little suspicious of the sudden appearance of an independent contractor, probably not enough to go too far. Hugo tried to compartmentalize. He was pretty fucking good at his job. It’s why he was still alive, why he didn’t need anyone’s protection. He had to put all the emotional bullshit aside. Think of this as just another job. One day to do it. The payout was Olivia.

  Possible, but so fucking many variables. Anto in the middle, walking a fine-line. Couldn’t go to Rusya for help, not now. Hugo couldn’t fathom what Anto was doing, wanted to shake the Russian silly. Realized he had more regard for Anto than he thought. Maybe Anto was a friend after all. In this world, his world, friends were scarce.

  He tried to sort through it as the two sat on a bench in a park across from Randall Scott’s office building. Hugo had wanted to walk in, knock on Scott’s door and persuade him to give up West. With his fists, if necessary. Anto said he would like nothing better than for that to happen. Especially if the persuasion included a few punches to the asshole’s face. But he thought it would be better if they waited, trailed him. See if they could just smoke West out. They had 24 hours to do the job. If nothing came of it today, they would press their case tonight at Scott’s home.