Without Mercy Read online

  Without Mercy

  Running with the Devil Book 4

  Jasmin Quinn

  Book Title Copyright © 2018 by Jasmin Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Jem Monday Publishing Inc.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Author Name

  Visit my website at www.jasminquinn.ca

  First Printing: Aug 2018

  Jem Monday Publishing Inc.

  ISBN-978-1-7751853-4-5

  Other books by Jasmin Quinn

  The Darkest Hour (Running with the Devil: Book 1)

  Secrets inside Her (Running with the Devil: Book 2)

  Black Surrender (Running with the Devil: Book 3)

  Introduction

  Without Mercy (Running with the Devil – Book 4) is a contemporary romance with plenty of suspense and intrigue, no cliff-hanger, no cheating, and a sexy happy ending. While each book in the series is standalone, the books are best read in order of publication for the following reasons:

  Each book in the series is connected by an ongoing theme;

  Characters featured in subsequent books may be introduced in prior books;

  There may be spoilers.

  About Running with the Devil book series

  It’s so good to be bad!

  Jasmin Quinn’s steamy romance series takes readers on a thrill ride as the rivalry between Rusya Savisin, Russian Mob Boss and the mysterious Mr. Jackman heats up. Romance blooms with intensity as innocents get drawn into the dark terrifying worlds that Jackman and Savisin rule. Each book in the series is standalone but are connected by common themes and characters.

  As the series unfolds, more and more will be revealed about the feud between Jackman and Savisin, including answers to the following questions:

  Are Jackman’s intentions honourable or does he have as much blood on his hands as Savisin?

  What is the root of the hatred between Jackman and Savisin?

  What is Randall Scott’s role in the ongoing feud?

  Who is the traitor in Jackman’s house and will this double-agent ultimately bring down Jackman and his operatives?

  Table of Contents

  Without Mercy

  Other books by Jasmin Quinn

  Introduction

  About Running with the Devil book series

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Excerpt from Hard Lessons

  Acknowledgements

  About Jasmin

  Stay connected with Jasmin!

  Prologue

  It was Friday night or rather, 2:19 Saturday morning. Anto’s phone was ringing. He groaned as he rolled onto his back and dropped an arm over his eyes. Last night was epic – too much to drink, a brawl with some assholes, a grateful woman, a quick fuck. Not here though, in a back alley, up against a wall. He grinned as he remembered, then grimaced as pain thudded at his temples. Definitely too much to drink. He grappled for the phone, not yet willing to open his eyes, peeked at the caller ID then accepted the call.

  “What?” he snarled, careless of how mulish he sounded. He’d been in bed for less than an hour, had a good start on a vicious headache and it was 2-fucking-30 in the morning.

  “Are you ready to pick her up?” The cool Russian words implied that the caller was not happy with Anto’s tone.

  “Now?” Anto said, knowing full well the answer.

  “Anatoly Tarasovich!”

  Oops. Pissed him off. Anto shuffled his body into a sitting position, leaning his bare back against the cool mahogany headboard. He ran a hand through his shaggy untamed hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “Sorry,” he growled, careful not to sound sorry. “What’s happening?”

  “The timeline’s been moved up. If you don’t move on the girl this morning she’ll be dead by noon.”

  Anto exhaled. He was not quite ready, but what the hell. He didn’t mind a little risk. It’s what kept his blood pumping and his cock hard.

  “She’ll be off the grid then, by 8am.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “What you don’t know you can’t tell.”

  Silence for a moment, then a sigh. “You’re a good man, Anto. Don’t get yourself killed. Update me as you need to but at least once a week. If I need you sooner, I’ll call you.”

  Anto grunted. “Long time since you’ve been on the front lines, hey? I’ll be using burner cells. I’ll text you a number before I disappear.”

  “Look after her, Anto. We need Doherty to be grateful.” The call ended.

  Chapter One

  Anto sprawled on the back seat of his nondescript SUV, its darkly tinted windows hiding him from would-be prying eyes. If there was anyone around to notice, they’d think his vehicle empty. He glanced at his watch – almost 7:30am. She should be back any minute, with her groceries – usually two bags. She’d put them in the back seat of her pretty little silver Audi. Then she’d circle around the trunk of her car, get in the driver’s seat, and drive to a nearby park. She’d be wearing white running shoes, white ankle socks, tight black running pants that dipped just below her knees. Under her faded grey hoodie, she’d have on a black sports bra covered by a pink sleeveless mesh top. Her long strawberry-blonde hair would be tied back into a ponytail. No makeup or jewelry except for a sports watch on her left wrist.

  He’d been watching her for three weeks, ever since he was told to grab her and stash her out of Vancouver where she’d be safe. Keep her alive and well, don’t leave her, don’t let her free. A simple job, kidnapping a woman, nothing that would keep him awake at night. He set up the safe house first – a remote cabin in the mou
ntains for rent online, near a river, so he could fish if he got bored. No one within miles. Called the owner, a guy named Amsterdam, who lived in Florida. Asked to rent it for six months. He couldn’t imagine holding onto the woman more than four months, the extra two months a safety net. To get ready for her and to clean up after.

  Amsterdam was thrilled. Told Anto he’d bought it as a vacation rental, but was having trouble renting it out regularly, too remote. It didn’t have wi-fi and cell service was spotty, but it had clean well water, a satellite dish and electricity. He was proud of it, the care that went into the custom-designed log home, its location, its natural beauty. Anto told him it was exactly what he was looking for. He and his wife, just married, wanted a private honeymoon getaway that they could drive up to whenever they had the chance. He paid the full six months’ rent and a damage deposit by e-transfer under the alias of Hugh Medford. The owner talked too much, hard to get off the phone. Told Anto that he’d even consider selling it if Anto was interested. “Maybe,” Anto said. “After I spend some time in it, we can discuss.” Once payment was received, the owner sent the keys to the cabin along with instructions on how to get there.

  Anto kept his plans and the location to himself. No one needed to know what he was doing or where he was going. If he liked the cabin and the location, maybe he would buy it. And if he did buy it, it would be another of his safe houses. A place he could go if shit hit the fan, if he needed some space or if he needed to bury a body.

  He reflected on this. No one was going to like that he was about to kidnap the daughter of Andrew Doherty, Chief Constable of the Vancouver Police Force, which was why he elected not to share his plans with anyone. He would be off the grid for four to five months. Nothing to explain his absence except the coincidence of the missing daughter of a high-profile cop. Very few people would put the pieces of the puzzle together, but her would-be killers might. His good deed for the year would not go unpunished. He would become a target too. He grinned to himself as he flexed his fingers. It would be a little fun to play cat and mouse. More fun than babysitting, which is what he feared his next few months would involve.

  Anto’s legs were getting stiff and he tried to stretch them, his height and bulk hindering him in the enclosed space. He was going to have to be quick and limber when the girl showed up. He looked at his watch again. Under different circumstances, it wouldn’t matter. He would just wait another week, but there was urgency now to get her off the streets. If she didn’t show up soon, he would not be happy. And when he did finally have her settled in, he would have to make her understand the value of punctuality. He relished the thought. They were going to be spending a lot of time together in that cabin. He would have to do something to entertain himself.

  As his thoughts drifted in that direction, Marisol finally came around the corner of his SUV carrying two bags of groceries. It was now 7:38am. She always parked at the side of the building, the part of the lot that was usually deserted this early in the day. She always put her bags in the back seat, passenger side of the car. She always circled the back of her car to get to the driver’s side. Except this morning. This morning, when she put the bags in the back seat of her car, closed the car door, and started to circle around the back, Anto opened the door to his SUV, reached out with his strong arms and pulled her into his vehicle so swiftly it was like it never happened. He wrapped his arm around her neck choking her so she couldn’t cry out, then reached over her and closed the door. Pulling her with him, he slid his ass across the bench so that he was sitting up with his back against the opposite passenger door with her head on his lap and her body on his legs.

  Her purse and car keys fell to the floor as she thrashed around, trying to loosen his grip on her throat. She was bucking her body, gasping for air, close to passing out. He eased the pressure just a little, but she started to scream so he tightened his arm again and waited until she was getting critical. Then he said in a cold, flat voice, “I’m gonna let go but if you scream, I will choke you to death.” He didn’t wait for her to nod as he eased his hold on her throat. His arm stayed tight around her neck, ready to constrict again if needed. This time she didn’t try to scream, just took deep gulping breaths of air, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He could feel her trembling under him like a rabbit and it made him irritable. Rabbits were no fun to play with.

  He flipped her around on her stomach, pulling her hands behind her back and forcing her face into his crotch. Her body stiffened and she started struggling, trying to get her hands loose, kicking with her legs, banging with her head, crying out again. He held her wrists with one of his hands and grabbed a handful of hair with the other, yanking her head back so that she was forced to look past his chest and into his face. If he applied anymore pressure, he would snap her neck. He wondered if she knew how vulnerable she was, pondered if he should tell her, but decided it was best not to alarm her.

  Instead he said, “I’m gonna tie your hands first and then your feet. While I’m doing that you will keep your head down and your face planted in my crotch. No matter how much you want to, you must not try to blow me. I’m afraid in your state, you might accidentally bite me. Understand?”

  Her breathing was jagged and she was visibly shaking, but his words seem to settle her slightly. She started to speak but Anto gave her ponytail a light tug and shook his head at her. “No words, and I’d prefer you didn’t cry either. It’s irritating.” He saw her eyes narrow and a small flare of heat in her glare. He grinned. Maybe not a rabbit after all, maybe a little fighter. He shoved her head back down on his lap and bound her wrists behind her back, tied her ankles, then roped her hands and feet together so that she was effectively hog-tied. He pulled her head up by her ponytail and forced her to look at him again.

  “I’m going to let your hair go now and I’d like you to leave your head up, so I can gag you.” He dropped his hand and watched as she struggled to keep her face upturned. She had to pull her shoulders back and push out her chest, making her firm breasts jut out at him. He resisted reaching for one as he felt a jolt of heat between his legs. He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “You’re a good little girl, aren’t you?” he murmured as he pushed the gag between her lips and teeth and knotted it at the back.

  He wrapped her ponytail with his hand to make sure she wouldn’t drop her face down again. As he gazed at her, he wondered exactly what it was about her that was turning him on. A fine line separated violence and sex, but that had never been a problem for him. He never let the two intersect. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb before applying light pressure to the back of her neck, pushing her head back down to his crotch. “It’s not the best of gags, but it gives you room to breathe so you don’t hyperventilate to death. But if you make too much noise, I’ll duct tape your mouth or even knock you on the head, which will hurt.”

  He shifted her slightly, so he could reach down to the floor and pick up her purse and car keys. “Sometimes I accidentally knock too hard – I don’t often know my own strength. Everyone gets mad when I do that.” He rifled through her purse, turning off her cell and removing the battery. He removed her watch from her wrist and dropped it into the bag and then threw it on the front passenger seat. There was not a soul in the parking lot as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him with a soft thud. He strolled around the back of his vehicle, locked Marisol’s car with her key fob, then threw the keys under her car and slipped behind the wheel of his SUV.

  He gazed back at Marisol as he removed thin leather gloves from his hands and dropped them on the passenger seat. She had shifted onto her side. Her face was pale, her pupils dilated, and tears were pooling in her eyes. That’s fair, Anto thought as he pulled out of the parking lot. What woman wouldn’t cry under these circumstances?

  Chapter Two

  Mari was in shock. She lay in the back seat of her kidnapper’s vehicle trying not to hyperventilate. Every nerve in her body was screaming, but at the same time, an iciness slithered up her
spine. She was petrified, sure that even if she could move, she would be unable. What the hell was happening? Why was it happening? Why her? He wasn’t concerned about her seeing him as he looked back at her before he pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t blindfold her – why didn’t he blindfold her? Because he was going to kill her. Why would he kill her? Who was she to him? An easy target, a victim, someone to satisfy his perverse needs. Someone to kill.

  She tried to stop thinking, to stop crying but she couldn’t contain either. All those retreats and workshops she’d attended on mindfulness and meditation flew completely out of her head. She always knew they were crap – they were supposed to help in times of crisis. She guessed Buddha didn’t anticipate this scenario when he was one hand clapping. She wished her psycho kidnapper hadn’t gagged her so she could ask him questions, ask if she was going to die. She should have promised not to scream. He probably wouldn’t let her talk anyway, and she was so terrified, her throat so tight, she thought she wouldn’t make any sense even if she did manage to squeak some words out.

  Her shoulders were wrenched back and painfully held in place by the taut rope between her wrists and ankles. It seemed overkill to hogtie her, but maybe the pain of others turned the sadistic sonofabitch on. He’d not been gentle with her when he opened his door and dragged her into his vehicle in one swift savage move, like a snake striking. So fast her brain had no time to register what was happening. No time to fight back. Then turning her over like that, flipping her onto her belly like she was a pancake, forcing her head down on him. She thought he was going to make her blow him – she thought that’s what it was about. Sexual assault. At the time she recoiled, not realizing that he had much worse plans for her – whatever they were. Then he tied her up with no mind to how tight he made the knots.