The Darkest Hour (Running with the Devil Book 1)

by Jasmin Quinn

  They sat that way, on the floor, Dean leaning against the end of the bed arms tightly wrapped around Kelsie, who was curled up in his lap, head on his chest until she stopped crying. Dean could feel something powerful wash through him; yes, he wanted her, but it wasn’t lust this time, it was an uncontrollable need, a sense of possession for this woman. He wanted all of her, as much as he could get, in bed and out. He felt his own grief well up in him when he realized that he was holding in his arms the one woman who could rock his world, and he was probably never going to see her again after tonight.

  He pulled her face up to his to kiss her on the lips, but she turned away from him and struggled up off his lap. He let her go. “I’m a mess,” she laughed self-consciously as she headed into the bathroom. She was regaining control and Dean felt wistful at this. He loved the cool and composed Kelsie, but he loved the wild, unrestrained Kelsie even more.

  He stayed on the floor, listening as she closed the bathroom floor, turned on the water faucet, a splash of water and then a few minutes of quiet before she came back out, eyes still a little red. She didn’t meet his gaze, her eyes dropped to the floor as she seated herself on the loveseat and picked up a coffee cup. She’s embarrassed, Dean thought. For crying. He wondered if she cried often, thought not, and was about to ask her, when she said, “You went for coffee. You were gone a long time.”

  Dean nodded. “I called my handler. Arranged a meeting with him for tonight. 10 o’clock.”

  “What will happen?” Kelsie asked as she took a sip of her coffee. Despite her attempt to appear casual, Dean saw that her hand was trembling.

  He reached across the table and picked up his own cup, toying with the lid. “I find out if he can be trusted.” He took a drink of the coffee.

  “How?”

  “I told him I was compromised and that I needed extracting. We arranged a meet. We both come alone. I’ll go out ahead of time and scout the area. Find a good vantage point. I’ll know if he’s alone or if he brought friends.”

  Kelsie leaned forward, forearms on her knees, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. “And if he comes alone, and you can trust him, does that mean he extracts you?”

  Dean looked at her, saw the sadness in her eyes. He knew that she knew that this was it. But he lied to her. “No. They have to arrange an extraction point. I’ll have time to come back here and get you to safety before I go.”

  “And say goodbye.” Kelsie felt tears spring to her eyes.

  Dean looked at her from where he was seated on the floor. “For now. Yes. I’ll have to go, debrief, help set up the raid. I’m not walking away without taking down Savisin.”

  “And then?”

  “And then when it’s safe, Kelsie. I’ll come back. And we’ll figure us out.”

  He didn’t know whether he was lying or not.

  They made love that afternoon, before he left. It wasn’t wild and crazy, like before. It was slow and tender, desperate and urgent all at the same time. He wanted to possess her, all of her, stroking her with his hands, with his mouth, with is tongue. Feeling her moan under his caress, feeling her heat and her wetness as she responded to him. Hearing her cries, hearing the desperation and sadness as he entered her, filling her up, trying to get as deep as he could, trying to etch this moment in his memory, trying to own her very soul.

  And she clung to him, under him, her legs wrapped around his back, her arms around his shoulders, her mouth crushed against his mouth, bucking under him, crying out as she came, forcing his own orgasm, spilling his semen deep into her. Possessing her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kelsie sat on the bed, still naked, legs crossed, sheet across her lap, watching him in despair as he started his preparations. Her eyes raked his body as he dressed. In black. Drinking in everything about him, from the tousled brown hair on his head, to his flinty grey eyes, to his strong facial features. She followed the line of his solid neck down to his broad muscular chest, to his hips, his groin, his muscular thighs and sturdy legs. She needed to remember everything about him, needed to hang on to this moment, in case it was their last.

  He glanced at her as she was studying him, met her eyes. She didn’t drop them; she didn’t flush. This was her moment and she wasn’t going to let her inhibitions steal it from her. He reached for his gun, loading it and then placing it in the back of his pants. He shrugged on his light leather jacket, covering it up. As he did this, he talked to her. “I destroyed your phone this morning, after your dad called. I should have never let you take that call. I picked up two burner cells while I was out. One for you and one for me.” He pulled a cellphone from his coat pocket and laid it down on the table where his gun had been. “The number for my cell is programmed into your phone. And vice versa. You don’t call anyone else on that phone, except me.” He turned around and looked directly at her. “You understand?”

  “Yes.” Kelsie nodded, her voice barely audible.

  “And you don’t call me unless you’re in trouble.”

  He walked over and stood at the end of the bed looking at Kelsie looking at him. “The meet is at 10 tonight. Whatever you do, don’t call me between 8 and 11 unless you have no choice.” He paused watching as Kelsie’s eyes pooled. “I have to go, Kelsie,” he said gently. “I need time to scope out the area, find a vantage point to watch and wait.”

  “Promise me you’ll come back,” Kelsie said softly, her voice breaking. Dean walked around the bed and sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms, resting his forehead on hers, staring into her eyes.

  “You need to get dressed while I’m gone and put everything together so we can leave fast if we have to. It’s do or die trying tonight.”

  Kelsie brought her hands up to his face and brought his lips to hers. He hugged her to him tightly and kissed her hard, his tongue finding her open, willing mouth. She could hear his breathing quicken and then he pulled back from her embrace, pushed her gently away and stood up. “I have to go, Kelsie.”

  Kelsie bit at her bottom lip as she watched him turn away and walk to the door. He turned back to her. “Do what I told you. Get dressed, get this placed packed up and wait for me.” And then he was gone, locking the door behind him.

  Kelsie sat for a few minutes, listening, hearing her SUV start up, hearing the crunch of gravel as he drove away, then silence. She was truly alone; she could get dressed, call a cab and leave. She could go home, or she could go to her dad’s house, or she could go to the cops. Or she could wait here, wait for Dean to come back. Her heart ached, her fear fluttered up, but she didn’t cry. The closing of the door was a bucket of cold water in her face. The realization that she loved and trusted Dean, believed in him and would do so until she had cause to think otherwise. She wished she had insisted on going with him, backing him up. He would have laughed at her though. Not easy to shoot a gun, to aim and hit something. You’d do more damage to yourself than anyone else. He wouldn’t have let her.

  Maybe she needed her own plan, she thought as she got off the bed. The plan that she would use if Dean didn’t come back. How could she help him? She walked into the bathroom and turned the shower tap on, waiting for the water to warm up and then stepping into it for the second time that day. She soaped her body, wistful that she was washing him off. She wanted to keep as much of him as she could – remember his taste, his touch, his smell.

  She shook herself back to the task at hand, rinsing off, then stepping out of the tub. She dried herself off with the one clean towel left, rubbing her hair, then wrapping it around her body as she stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed.

  “About fucking time.” A huge, tattooed man loomed up in front of her, speaking with a heavy accent. “What the fuck does a woman need to shower that long for?” He twisted her around so her back was pressed up against his chest, one hand across her stomach holding her tight, the other covered her mouth. She felt a frission of icy fear bolt up her spine.

  He turned them both around, so she could see that he was not
alone. Another man, big and brutal looking was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest, legs splayed, body rock still. In one of his hands was a gun, held carelessly. A guard, blocking any means of escape if by some miracle she managed to incapacitate the Neanderthal that currently had her in his grip.

  She didn’t struggle; she didn’t even raise her hands to his arms. It had been a long three days and she had learned a lot during that time – like when it was hopeless to fight back. If she couldn’t win against Dean when he was gunshot and beaten, she sure as hell wasn’t going to out muscle two Russian thugs. And they were Russian, that much she knew for sure. They had known exactly where to find her, and she suspected, had waited for Dean to leave before they walked into her room.

  “She’s a smart girl, Lukov,” the Russian holding her said, his eyes on her, not his partner. “Too bad. I thought you would be more fun. Maybe you could try to bite my hand or kick at my knee just a little.” Kelsie didn’t move, didn’t rise to his bait, she merely looked forward, into the cold dead eyes of the Russian standing at the door.

  Lukov barked something in Russian as he hoisted himself away from the door. He strode over to her suitcase and the pile of discarded clothing, pulling out the thrift store jeans, a black T-shirt, and the leather jacket and threw them on the bed. Then he walked over and very deliberately stood in front of Kelsie sandwiching her between him and the Russian holding her, crossing his arms again, looking down at her. “Anto will take his hand off your mouth, let you go. You will not speak. Nod if you understand me.” His English was broken, his accent distinct.

  Kelsie nodded.

  “Then you dress. In the clothes on the bed. When you are done, you will walk with me and get in the car outside. Got it?”

  Kelsie nodded again.

  “Good. If you do as you are told, you might live.”

  He looked past her then, at Anto. Anto took his hands off her mouth and then released her, stepping back a few steps. But Lukov didn’t immediately step away from her. Instead, he reached out with his hand and took her chin, moving her face one way and then the other, inspecting her. Then he hooked his gun into the front of the towel and pulled it toward him, causing it to fall to the floor. Kelsie drew in a shaky breath, but stayed still, arms at her sides, hands balled into tight fists to stop herself from trembling. She kept her gaze straight ahead as Lukov’s eyes swept over her, taking his time as they lingered on her breasts, her stomach, then lower. “Too bad I am told not to touch you.” He said softly, looking back up into her frightened eyes.

  “The view from the back is pretty good too,” Anto said lightly. “But Boss, we’re wasting precious time. The Judge is waiting.”

  Lukov snarled something in Russian at Anto, but he stepped away from Kelsie and returned to his post by the door. “Get dressed,” he ordered.

  Kelsie moved over to the bed on shaky legs and picked up the jeans laid out for her. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, her fingers fumbling as she pulled the jeans over her hips and tried to button and zip them. Her long hair, wet and uncombed fell into her eyes, impeding her further. And her mind was racing over the last thing the Russian, Anto, had said. The Judge is waiting. Did he mean Malcolm Westwick, her boss? Was that why Dean had an aversion to him. What was it that Dean knew about Malcolm, that he wasn’t sharing with her? And her dad on the phone, was he trying to warn her? She thought he’d been talking about Dean but maybe he wasn’t; maybe he was talking about Malcolm?

  Then a phone rang. Lukov answered it. Spoke in Russian. “Fuck,” he snarled as he hung up. He said something to Anto, again in Russian. They exchanged a few words, and then, “Hurry up!” Lukov barked making Kelsie jump. She almost said sorry, but then remembered his warning not to talk. She scooped up the faded, black sleeveless t-shirt and pulled it over her head. No bra, no underwear. Fuck. Then she slipped on the leather jacket. She bent down and reached under the bed for her boots. Anto was on her fast, grabbing her arms and hauling her up and away from the bed.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he barked.

  Kelsie had one of the boots in her hand and held it up to him; she was visibly shaking. Anto laughed as he turned to Lukov. “Shoes. She almost died over shoes.” Then he let her go, dropped down to the floor and pulled the other boot out from under the bed. He threw it at Kelsie and she had to scramble to catch it. “Put them on,” he ordered, his voice deadly as he got to his feet and looked down at her. “Do it fast.”

  Despite her terror, Kelsie managed to get the boots on the right feet. Anto walked over to her then and brushed the hair away from her face with his hands. “Hands out in front of you.” Kelsie lifted her hands to him watching as he bound her wrists together. Then he pushed her down on the loveseat. He pulled one of the kitchen chairs up and placed it in front of her, so close that when he sat down his knees touched hers.

  “I need to know something, Kelsie,” he said as he placed his hands on her knees, his voice softly menacing. Kelsie shrank back against the cushion. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  Kelsie gaped at him. They didn’t have Dean yet. That was good news, but her elation lasted only a moment as Anto leaned forward and gripped her face with steely fingers. “Lukov likes you. A lot.” He was so close, Kelsie could smell the slight scent of rosemary on his breath. “He is my boss, you know. I do what he says. If you don’t answer my question now, he will tell me to step outside and leave you alone with him.”

  “I don’t know,” Kelsie answered quickly, desperately, hoping what she said was enough. “He never told me. He was going to meet someone, some guy. He wasn’t sure he could trust him, he said he had to be sure.”

  “I see.” Anto dropped his hand from her face and sat back in his chair. Kelsie glanced over at Lukov and he threw her a malevolent grin. She dropped her eyes to her hands. “So then,” Anto continued. “He told you fucking nothing.”

  Kelsie licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry. The Judge was waiting. “Dean’s not my boyfriend. He kidnapped me. He wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me his plans.”

  “But he trusted you enough to leave you here, alone.” He looked at her with disdain. “Why didn’t you run?”

  “How do you know I wasn’t going to?” Kelsie said a little boldly.

  Anto threw his head back and laughed derisively. “It has been my experience that kidnapped women don’t stop to take a shower when they have a chance to run.” Lukov joined in the laughter, understanding enough.

  “Why don’t you go out, Anto,” Lukov said then. “And let me finish.”

  “No, please,” Kelsie cried, looking at Anto. Not daring to look at Lukov. “He left that cell phone,” She pointed with her head at the phone on the table. “It has his number in it. He told me to not to call him unless I had no other choice.”

  Anto smiled and reached out to her, hauling her to her feet as he stood up. “Now you have finally said something useful.”

  Lukov grunted.

  “The boss is disappointed.” Anto threw Kelsie a small smile, which dropped almost immediately from his lips. His voice hardened. “Now turn around.” Kelsie hesitated, this felt like an execution. But, The Judge was waiting. Anto, out of patience, grabbed her by the shoulder and roughly flipped her around. Then her world went grey as a cloth sack was pulled over her head.

  “No!” Kelsie cried out, bringing her bound hands up to the sack, grappling at it. But Anto must have anticipated her reaction because he already had the sack and her hair in one of his hands and he yanked her head backward.

  “My friend Lukov would like nothing more than to spend some time alone with you,” he said menacingly into her ear. “So, keep your mouth shut or I’ll let him.” Kelsie clamped her quivering lips together, swallowing her urge to scream, to plead. She felt Anto’s hands still holding her hair, leading her forward. Heard the door open, the rush of cool air wash over her. Gravel crunching under her feet, then a car door opening. Suddenly she was lifted and laid down on a seat. New
car smell with a lingering of cigar smoke. Then Anto bound her feet together. She heard other voices, speaking in English. Anto said to them. “Clean it up. She was never here. No one was ever here.”

  Lukov’s voice then as he got into the passenger seat, something in Russian as the car started. Anto answered in English. “Yeah. We take her to the warehouse. Then we call him.”

  Lukov laughed. “Make her scream a little. He will come.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dean was sitting in Kelsie’s SUV behind a car wash bay. He didn’t know when he picked up the tail. He hoped it was long after he left the motel. Fuck, he was slipping. His focus wasn’t where it needed to be, it was on Kelsie, not the current job at hand. He needed to let her go, get her out of his head, get his senses back on the job or he would get himself killed. And he didn’t want that to happen. Not anymore. Not since Kelsie.

  Dean was good at his job. He knew how to compartmentalize, which was a critical part of the work he did. Yes, see the big picture, strategize, but break it down into discrete components. Like an intense form of mindfulness. Picking a lock? Think only about the fucking lock. If you’re thinking about something else, it’ll take twice as long to do it. Tailing a suspect? Think only about the suspect, where he’s going, how he’s getting there, who’s with him. If you’re thinking about anything else, you’ll lose him, or miss something important and end up with a bullet in your brain. Being tailed, you should fucking well know when you picked up the fucking tail, the minute he’s fucking on you!

  “Dammit!” Dean slammed his hands down on the steering wheel in frustration. He had to get Kelsie out of his head, or they were both going to end up dead. That’s why women were on his “love ‘em or leave ‘em” list. They were a fucking distraction. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he replayed the chase in his mind. He’d noticed the tail a few miles out from the motel. His immediate first thought was to get further away from the Kelsie. If they were tailing him, they didn’t want her, they wanted him, but they had to have picked him up at the motel. So, he drove calmly, a little bit cavalier, leading them away from Kelsie, heading into metro Vancouver keeping an eye on the tail, trying to determine if there was more than one car. It didn’t appear to be the case.