by Jasmin Quinn
The reason of course was to keep Rusya out of this. As far as the deadly Russian mob boss knew, Anthony was just a deadbeat husband Hugo was being paid to find. Had nothing to do with Jackman. Even if Rusya knew that West had come from Jackman’s camp, and Hugo had no doubt he did, Anto shouldn’t have that information. After his phone call to this Dean guy, the pieces clicked for Anto. West was wanted by all men, for different reasons. Savisin was out of it now. He’d done his job. Delivered the introduction.
It was obvious Anto and West had never crossed paths under Jackman’s roof. It made Hugo wonder, how long, how deep he was in with Rusya. Fucking tangled web that made Hugo’s heart stutter. And Anto, after his phone call to Dean, made it clear he wanted a go at Anthony before Hugo delivered the package to Jackman.
“He’s moving,” Anto’s growl interrupted Hugo’s thoughts. He looked at the time on his phone. 1:30pm. They stood, separated as earlier agreed upon. Two big menacing fucks tended to draw attention. Hugo’s job was to tail Scott. Anto’s job was to tail Hugo from across the street. Randall walked a couple of blocks then entered the lobby of the Westin. Hugo waited a heartbeat and then followed him in. Not in his line of sight but he didn’t expect Scott to be.
He wandered the lobby, heading to the bistro. Thought maybe Scott was having lunch. Couldn’t see him from the front so he approached the hostess. Smiled his best Hugo smile and she smiled back. He had her. He didn’t want her, he wanted Olivia. But he’d do whatever the fuck he had to do to get Blondie back.
He leaned on the counter with his arms, looked at her square in the face. “Looking for my friend, Randall Scott. Was supposed to meet him for lunch. He here yet?”
She practically preened. “He arrived a few minutes ago, but the reservation was for two. His dining companion is already here.”
“Hmm. That’s weird.” Hugo straightened up, made a show of looking at his phone, the appointments in it. “Fuck, my mistake. Not today. God, that’s embarrassing.” He smiled, trying for sheepish.
She mirrored his grin as she tucked a lock of her shoulder length hair behind her ear. “There’s room if you still want to have lunch.”
“I’d love to stay, but don’t want to embarrass myself if Randall sees me. How about I come back later?” He drew a long finger slowly down the back of her hand looking first at it, then at her. That was the test. If she moved her hand away, she wasn’t available. If she didn’t, she was interested.
She smiled brightly, her hand didn’t move. “My shift ends at 3. Maybe you and I can have a drink?”
Hugo nodded, leaned in again, intimately. “Out of curiosity, who’s Randall Scott with? My company is one of three competing for a big aeronautics contract. He won’t meet with anyone but the owners.” A good lie. Told her he was rich and powerful.
She bought into it – her face flushed and her pupils dilated. Hugo figured that if he checked, her panties would be wet too. “I don’t think it’s one of the candidates. Just a guy he’s lunched with before. Like a friend or something.”
Hugo grinned, using as much charm as he could muster under the circumstances. “Good news for me. See you at 3.” She’d be pissed for a while when he didn’t show, but she’d get over it. He walked out of the Westin, walked to the street corner, crossed to the other side and stepped into the shadows of an overhang. Anto joined him shortly.
“He’s dining with a friend. I couldn’t see, so I’ll wait here until they come out.”
Anto nodded. “I’ll cover the other entrance.” And left. No one was smiling or joking. The sense of humour had gone out of the day.
An hour later, Scott and Anthony West emerged from the Westin and stood on the steps, deep in conversation. Hugo stared at Olivia’s husband. The man didn’t know it yet, but his days were numbered. They split, Anthony heading west (Hugo did allow himself a small grin at that), Randall Scott, east, probably back to his office. Hugo didn’t give a fuck where Scott was going. He tailed West, west. Another grin.
It helped that Hugo was tall because it was easy to follow West. Wherever Olivia’s dead husband was headed, it was purposeful. Beelined for several blocks west, then veered north. When West stopped at a red light, Hugo tossed a quick text to Anto that pinned his location, allowed Anto to follow him. He lost sight of Anthony for a few seconds then found him again.
Something was wrong though. West must have spotted Hugo because he was no longer walking with purpose. Now he was walking like he wanted to establish whether he had a tail. Fuck, Hugo thought. There was only one thing to do.
He picked up his pace, striding directly towards West. Within a few feet of him, he slid his gun out of his holster, but kept it hidden inside his jacket. As West approached an alley, Hugo jogged up to him, grabbed him by his upper arm and pushed him into the shadows. Shoved him hard against a wall, shoved the gun into his belly. “We gotta talk, Tony,” he said in the meanest voice he had as he relieved West of his pistol.
Anto and Hugo took West to Anto’s home in the city. A shithole of a place in a cookie-cutter neighbourhood, but it had a two-car garage and an air of neglect. Perfect. The alternative was to take him back to the boat. Hugo didn’t want to soil his Gypsy Girl with this prick and Anto didn’t care about filth like Tony smelling up his house. Hugo knew enough about Anto to get them both killed three times over and Anthony wasn’t going to be talking to anyone anytime soon.
CHAPTER 48
Olivia sobered up fast when Dimi said, “Find Tony West, deliver him to me. I give you back your girlfriend in one piece. 24 hours. Any longer and I start to give her back in pieces. After a week, I don’t give her back at all.” He’d gripped her knee as he said it. Hard. Enough to make her squeak and swallow the words that were forming on her lips.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t been aware of the danger she was in. Men don’t offer 20 million dollars for a woman without something going on in the background. After Jackman hung up his phone, she said, “Maybe you knew Jack wouldn’t take the money. Maybe it was just a way to get a bead on me.”
Jackman contemplated her. “Maybe.” He reached for the scotch, poured another little shot for each of them and leaned against the back of the couch, legs splayed, glass tucked between long, sexy fingers. Not as long or as sexy as Hugo’s though. He said, “What are we going to do for the next 24 hours, Olivia. To pass the time?”
Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. She was feeling pissed off at everyone, Jackman, Anto, Tony, Hugo and Mack. Not Marisol, though. She was still okay with Marisol. “I’m done here.” She shoved her boots on her feet and stood, stomped past Jackman, out of the living room, through the kitchen, to the pretentious front entrance, and swung open the large solid wood door. She stepped outside onto the front step without bothering to shut the door behind her. Jackman didn’t stop her. Good.
Then she saw why. The estate was gated and guarded. Not many places she could go. She shoved her fingertips in her jean pockets and surveyed the layout. Long driveway to a guard house with gates. Big ass stone walls stretching as far as she could see in both directions. Too tall to scale and by the looks of it, not much to grip if she tried. Trees framed the yard on opposite sides, the tree-line at least 100 meters away. From the living room, she’d seen the ocean off the backyard with a drop of at least 30 feet if not more. She wasn’t going to walk up to the cliff and check it out to see if there was a way down. She had a respectful fear of heights.
Jackman came up behind her. “What are you thinking? Trees or the fence? Surely not the cliff.”
Olivia ignored him. She tramped off down the steps and walked purposely across the lawn to the line of trees to her left. She wasn’t half-way across when Mack caught up to her. “Olivia,” he said as he jogged up beside her. “Stop.”
She didn’t.
He paced her for a minute, then grabbed her arm. She swung out of his grip, stayed walking, eyes focused on the tree-line. No point in sprinting. She wasn’t in that good of shape that she could outrun him. He caught up to he
r again, gripped her arm harder and swung her around to face him. “I said stop.” Not menacing, not threatening. Just stop.
“Why Mack? If I don’t try to leave, he’s gonna cut off my fingers and toes. If Hugo doesn’t come for me, I’m dead. Or at least toeless.” The tears started. She swiped at them angrily. She was so frustrated. Her only fucking mistake in this world was to be born. After that, all the other people she knew fucked with her life. Her mother, Tony, Jack Creed, even Hugo. And that’s what hurt the most. Hugo. She loved him like nobody’s business. Her heart was full of him. And now, she didn’t know what to think. She thought maybe he loved her back, now she knew he didn’t have to. She belonged to him for however long he chose to keep her. She wasn’t even sure after the phone conversation that he would come for her.
Because she didn’t know how to not say what was on her mind. She didn’t know where the fucking line was. He was pissed with her on the phone. There was no doubt.
Mack said, “He’s got 24 hours to get to you, Olivia.”
Olivia shook her head. “I’m worth a ½ million to him. That’s nothing. Why would he waste his time coming after me?”
Mack frowned, looked around, groped for words. “I gotta bring you back to the house.” He tightened his grip around her arm and pulled her along with him as he headed back.
She let him lead her. She needed to think everything through, have a better plan than just walking away from the homestead in plain sight of everyone. But now she was seriously crying. Hugo broke her fucking heart.
She glared at Dimi as Mack led her past him. He took her downstairs to the room she spent the night in. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours to check on you,” he said as he locked her in. Then blessed silence. She leaned her back against the door, tears still falling. “You’re gonna be okay, Olivia,” she heard his muffled voice through the door.
She slid her back down the door and sat on her ass, legs splayed out in front of her. She wasn’t going to be okay ever again. Fucking Hugo Marsden bought her from Creed like she was piece of property. She could have managed the information if he’d told her earlier, told her when it happened. He could have just said that he’d paid her debt to Creed.
But he didn’t. And now she owed her debt to him even though she didn’t think he had any expectation that she pay him back. He’d fucked her though, literally and the other way, too. Strung her along looking for Tony. For what? To kill him, to get him killed. It was all so very fucked up. As she sat, the tears dried. She ruminated for a while until she got herself all knotted up with her thoughts. She stood, slammed her palms against the door. Shouted, “Mack!”
Nothing.
She waited for Mack to come back, paced, got bored, got tired of her thoughts. Sat on the mattress, then laid on the mattress, first on her side, then on her back, looking up at the ceiling. Thought about masturbating, decided against it. The only guy who would get her turned on was Hugo and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of fantasizing about him while she got herself off.
When Mack returned, she was so happy to see him she almost hugged him. But she decided to turn over a new leaf, decided that from now on she was going to exercise restraint. It lasted until Mack took her upstairs to the dining room. Jackman was there on the phone but ended the call when she arrived.
“Hungry?” he asked mildly.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sure. Which digit of mine do you want to boil up first? Toe or finger?”
He laughed like he was genuinely amused. “You are such a fucking hot mess, Olivia. How could anyone not love you?”
She didn’t know if he was being sincere or stringing her along. She decided he was fucking with her, put on her resting bitch face and walked to the table. All the scotch she’d drank earlier combined with the news that Hugo bought her from Creed, gave her a headache and stomach upset. The food had no appeal to her, but the orange juice did and she poured herself a giant glass.
“Could you both just leave me the fuck alone and let me wallow in pity by myself.”
“Want to go back to your room, Olivia?” Jackman, being a prick.
She shook her head, stalked to the living room, pulled an armchair over to the window and flopped into it. From her vantage point she had a good 180 view. It told her that the water was a long way down but there were boats out and about, and if she could somehow find her way down to the water’s edge, she might be able to flag down some help.
The back yard was shallower than the front. But both sides of it were a long way from the tree-line, a lot further than the front yard. She couldn’t go over the cliff, so she would have to make the tree-line before the guards or Mack could catch her. She thought Jackman was too fucking self-important to chase after the prisoners, so she wasn’t going to waste her mental energy on evading him.
She needed a distraction. A divide and conquer type of thing. What if they thought her already gone? She tried to imagine how this scenario could play out. Get locked back into the room and hide behind the door until Mack came, then slip out. Except the door swung out and the only thing in the fucking room was a mattress.
Maybe she could start something on fire. She looked back toward the kitchen, saw Mack and Jackman standing together, talking quietly. She’d need a match and something that would burn. Looked around again, thumped her head back against the seatback, felt a slice of pain bolt through her head, did it again just to reassure herself she was alive and still kicking.
Her alternative was to wait for Hugo to come for her. But would he? She was less mad than she was before, but she didn’t know anymore where she stood with him. He bought her the ring. She took a moment to look at it. It was the nicest thing she’d ever owned. She twisted it on her finger and felt sadness filter through her.
He said he wanted to marry her but was that just to legitimize what he already knew? Maybe he was glad to see the tail end of her. She was a lot of trouble and he was always pissed at her for some reason or another. And the worst thing. What if he couldn’t find Tony? Or what if he did find him? Seemed like all of this was going to end in Tony’s death. She searched around inside for some sort of feelings about that. Jackman had entered the room, was standing just inside the entrance, watching her. She said to him, “Are you going to kill Tony?”
“Yes.”
She sucked in her breath. Fuck, the guy was cold. No hesitation, no softening just a little bit for the grieving widow. “And me?”
He took a few steps towards Olivia, then veered off, looking out the window, following her line of sight. “Tony worked for me for several years. Then he betrayed me. His betrayal led to the deaths of some good people. One of my friends was beaten so badly it took him several months to recover.” He frowned at the memory, looked to Olivia. “He deserves to die.”
“And me?” she repeated.
“You’re a means to an end, Olivia. Your boyfriend delivers Tony, you two can drive off into the sunset.”
“My owner, you mean.”
Jackman stroked her with his eyes, his lips tugging into a thoughtful pucker. “Get over yourself, Olivia. A man doesn’t pay a half million dollars for a woman he barely knows unless he’s serious.”
“Fuck off, Dimi.”
“You better hope I’m right, Olivia.”
CHAPTER 49
Mack watched the scene in front of him unfold. The two were sparring like siblings, like they’d known each other a lifetime. He thought maybe that’s how it was with Olivia wherever she went. She just seemed to get right down to it with people and before you knew it, you were talking with her like you’d known her for years.
He hoped the boyfriend would show with the husband in tow. He wasn’t going to step in to save Anthony West but Olivia was an innocent caught up in all the bullshit. He couldn’t stand by and watch her die, it wasn’t who he was, wasn’t why he was there. But he couldn’t figure the way out of the situation.
Mack was soft, not the beer-belly, can’t walk a mile type of soft. He was strong,
fit, wiry. Faster than most men. But he was not very good at the whole pillaging, killing and raping kind of stuff that the bad guys he associated with seemed to be fond of.
He needed to be where he was. One didn’t just fill out an application to get a job at Jackman Enterprises. It took his organization two years of painstaking machinations to get him planted as one of Jackman’s trusted associates. He’d been with Jackman almost six months now. An Aussie with a problem that needed fixing. Hard work and a lot of pain, but he was in and he needed to stay in until he did what he was there to do.
Rescuing the blonde was not part of the plan. But neither was cold-blooded murder.
CHAPTER 50
Anto took West to the basement. Hugo called Jackman. “We have the fucker. Where do you want to meet?”
Hugo heard the deep inhale of breath on the other end. Getting this close to West meant a lot to the man. “He’s alive?”
“Yeah, with Anto.”
Jackman was quiet for a minute. “You know about Anto.” Not a question, a statement.
Hugo understood the question. Understood the implications. Olivia was still at the mercy of the man on the phone and if he didn’t like what Hugo said, he might take it out on her. He chose his words carefully. “Anto’s a friend. I’m an independent. I’ve got nothing to gain by talking to anybody about him.”
“Until someone offers you enough money.”
A chill wind blew through Hugo. “I have enough money, Jackman. Means nothing to me without Blondie.” Hugo held his breath while the silence stretched across the line.
