Chapter 10
Cole did not like how rattled he was after nearly watching Justin pull Will off the ledge.
Like, he wasn’t a psychopath or a murderer.
He wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing Will die any more than he would’ve enjoyed seeing Justin Levesque die.
Hell, if he had the chance to shoot Marcus in the smug fucking face, he wouldn’t because that wasn’t who he was.
So it wasn’t like he expected to be unaffected by Will’s near-death moment.
He just hadn’t expected to be this affected.
As they booked it down from the tower to the Grand Quai, he was jittery all over. Unsettled beyond words. He was even a bit queasy, which—what the fuck?
Think about it later, he ordered himself as he cleared the bottom of the stairs behind Will. Catch Justin, ask him about Marcus, and then have… like… feelings about the idiot not being dead.
They emerged into the Grand Quai, and paused for a second to get their bearings.
Will scanned the Quai, gaze snagging briefly on the shattered remains of Fake Puffin 2.
0 and the deflated parachute, and then again on Cole.
They exchanged nods, and without a word, broke into a run in the direction Justin had gone.
No comments. No questions. No arguments. As if they’d inexplicably found themselves on the same wavelength.
Also something for Cole to dwell on later.
Though Justin had a sizeable head start, he hadn’t gotten far. He was also limping a little bit.
Not surprising; at sixty-five meters, the Port of Montreal Tower was a decent height for BASE jumping, but Justin’s parachute hadn’t opened immediately. At such a low height, every second counted, and he’d probably landed hard. On pavement, no less.
Good.
Though Cole could sprint like hell when the situation warranted it, he couldn’t keep up with Will once Will locked on to Justin. The gap between him and Will widened so fast, Cole may as well have been running backward. With Justin’s hampered gait, he wasn’t getting away.
Especially not when the dumbass whipped around to look over his shoulder like a brainless damsel in distress in a horror movie.
And just like the damsel in question, he tripped, stumbled, and faceplanted.
He’d had another pistol in his hand, and it went skittering across the ground before disappearing beneath a car.
Well, as much as Cole couldn’t respect stupidity, even when it gave him an advantage, at least now the douchebag was hopefully unarmed for real this time.
A second later, Will pounced on him like a cat on a toy. Cole wasn’t sure the punch to Justin’s midsection was entirely necessary, but he didn’t question it. Nor was he upset about the pained groan coming from the pinned dipshit.
“You fucking fuck!” Will was snarling as Cole jogged up to them. Will sat up, his knee firmly planted between Justin’s shoulder blades and one of Justin’s arms twisted painfully behind him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Justin squawked. “You’re the one who just tackled me! What the hell, dude?”
“Save it,” Will growled. “You’re going to get up, and we’re going to go somewhere and talk.”
“Why are you attacking me? Why are—”
“Oh, shut up.”
But then Cole realized—people were watching. A lot of them. People who worked in the buildings on the Quai, he assumed. And most of them had smartphones in front of their gobsmacked faces.
Fuck. They were filming Will and Justin.
Not good. Not good at all.
Thinking fast, Cole whipped out his phone and started playing a Taylor Swift song as loud as it could go.
Will and Justin actually stopped their struggle and peered up at him, WTF? written across both their faces.
“It’s okay, folks!” Cole shouted over the song. Then he remembered where they were, and he repeated it in French. No one budged. He showed his palms as he moved toward Will and Justin while Taylor continued singing. “They’re stuntmen rehearsing for a film! Sorry for the alarm!”
That earned him some skeptical and puzzled looks, including one from Will, who had—during the momentary distraction—hauled Justin to his feet.
“Just a movie, my friends!” Cole laughed. “Come back on Saturday, and you can be an extra!” Then he looped his arm into Justin’s elbow, slung the other around Will, and started herding them back toward the tower. “Come on, boys. Let’s run through the blocking one more time.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Will demanded, trying to brush away the phone that was currently blasting in his ear.
“Shut up,” Cole hissed.
“Fuck you both,” Justin growled, and he tried to yank away from Cole.
Cole kept a death grip on Justin’s elbow and snarled, “Take one fucking step away, and you’ll find out if my criminal activity involves smuggling handguns into Canada.”
Justin stumbled. Then he limped a few more steps. “You’re… going to shoot me?”
“Maybe.” Cole steered them both toward the tower. “If I do, it won’t be a place that’ll kill you quickly, so… you know… maybe don’t be a dick.”
“God, I hate you both,” Justin muttered, but he didn’t pull away.
“Uh,” Will said. “Didn’t you take his gun?”
“What?” Cole asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, I mean, you having a gun doesn’t mean you smuggled it—”
“Shut up.”
The punk just smirked and shook his head. Cole rolled his eyes and continued leading Justin out of the public’s sight.
They followed the long building on the north side of the Quai to its end, went around, and started back up the pier side. There were probably security cameras out here, but so far, no curious onlookers with smartphones.
Cole kept hold of Justin’s elbow, but took his arm off Will’s shoulders and shut off the music. Pocketing his phone, he halted and glared at Justin. “You’ve got two choices, Justin, and you might want to make a decision quickly.”
Justin blinked, eyes flicking toward Will before meeting Cole’s again. “Uh. Okay?”
“Option one,” Cole said. “I’m going to ask you a question. And you’re going to answer it. No bullshit. No lies. Just a straight answer.”
The man gulped. “What is option two?”
Cole jerked his head toward the edge of the pier just a few feet away. “You find out how cold the St. Lawrence River is this time of year.”
He thought Will snorted. Probably had, given the simultaneously freaked out and pissed off look Justin shot him.
“What’s the question?” Justin demanded.
“Why were you here instead of Marcus Ekstrom, and where is Marcus Ekstrom?”
Fear flickered across Justin’s face, but it was quickly replaced by defiance. Weak, brittle defiance, but defiance nonetheless. Raising his chin and narrowing his eyes, he said, “That’s two questions.”
“And that river is cold as balls, so…”
The fear returned. Justin gulped. A few Quebecois curses tumbled from his mouth before he said, “Listen, I wasn’t given details. I was paid to make a sale to Jacquis-Louis Campeau.” He shook his head sharply. “That’s it. That’s all. I don’t know a Marcus—”
“Bullshit you don’t,” Cole said coolly. “Tell me the truth, Justin. I’m out of patience.”
Justin put up his free hand and shook his head again. “I’m telling the truth! I swear! I don’t know a—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Cole grabbed Justin’s other sleeve and half-led, half-dragged him to the edge of the pier. The Frenchman screamed and struggled the whole way, but he was still limping badly, which meant he couldn’t put up much of a fight.
Just shy of the edge, Cole savagely knocked Justin’s injured knee out from under him. The man howled and staggered, and then he was hanging over the water the same way—
The same way Will had been hanging before Cole had pulled him back.
That thought nearly derailed Cole, but he shook it away and shoved Justin farther out over the water. “Tell me the truth! How are you working for Ekstrom? And where do we find him?” He pushed the screaming man just a bit farther. “Because that water is fucking cold, Justin.”
“No! No! Please!” Justin flailed and screamed. “Don’t throw me—please don’t kill me!”
“I won’t kill you,” Cole said. “But I can’t be sure the water won’t, so…”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll talk! Just—pull me back in! Please!”
“Talk first.”
“Pull me back in!” Tears were streaming down the man’s face now, and he babbled in both English and French.
“Tell me where to find Ekstrom,” Cole demanded again.
More babbling. More sobbing.
“Man, I’d talk,” Will drawled behind Cole. “This fucker’s crazy, and if he wants to make you go for a swim, there ain’t much I can do to stop him.”
Justin wailed helplessly. Then he settled a little, as if surrendering to his fate.
Through his tears, he finally said, “Jacques-Louis said a mutual friend referred me.” Showing his palms, he blubbered, “I don’t know who the mutual friend is!
I swear! He didn’t tell me! He just promised me fifty grand for this meeting. ”
Cole huffed sharply. “And you didn’t ask questions? Didn’t think maybe there was a reason Ekstrom wouldn’t come himself?” He inclined his head. “Are you just devoid of survival instincts beyond making sure your parachute is correctly packed?”
“Kinda, yeah.” That was Will.
Cole twisted around.
Will shrugged. “Hey, I’m as surprised as you are that he survived that fall.” Nodding toward Justin, he added, “I’d bet money that parachute opened by accident.”
Cole blinked. Then he faced Justin, whose expression was a mix of humiliation and offense.
“Tabarnak,” he spat at Will. “I have survival instincts!”
“Oh yeah?” There was a grin in Will’s voice. “That why you’re two seconds away from annoying this asshole into dropping you?” He slapped Cole’s back so hard, Cole very nearly lost his grip on Justin.
Justin shrieked in terror, windmilling his arms before grabbing Cole’s jacket. “Don’t let me fall! Please!”
“Fuck’s sake,” Cole grumbled. “Okay, so we’ve established you’re stupid and gullible. Where were you going to meet up with him afterward?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”