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“Don’t move, and don’t be scared.”
“Kind of hard not to be when you’re holding a gun to my head in the back seat of my car,” Chase snarled, stating the obvious.
“I just needed to get your attention so we can talk.”
Chase glanced in the rearview mirror, taking note of the two men sitting in the back seat of his car. One man was blond with blue eyes, while the other had dark hair and angry eyes that almost appeared black.
“Okay, you got my attention. What do you want?” Chase asked, wondering how he could make a bat win in a fight against a gun. Fat chance.
The dark-haired man nodded toward the parking lot. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”
“Not particularly,” Chase huffed. He eyed the blond, who sat silently watching the man beside him. Clearly, the blond was just along for the ride.
“Okay. I can see that you’re going to be a peach to work with,” Mr. Angry Eyes replied.
“You sure you got the right guy?” Blond Ambition finally spoke up.
The dark-haired man glanced over at his buddy and nodded.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what that was all about,” Mr. Angry Eyes began. “That was Dr. Elijah Sheppard, fifty-three, a cardiac surgeon working in Central and East Toronto. Sits on the board of at least three disease-related charities, has won numerous humanitarian awards, and is currently nursing a broken jaw, facial realignment, and battered ego. What was the cause of these ailments? A certain proclivity for finding young women and forcing himself on them even when they have no interest in having a sexual relationship with the disgusting man.”
Chase stared at the dark-haired man with his mouth slightly ajar. How on earth did he know all that?
“You, sir, are Mr. Chase Harwick, thirty-two, former member of the Toronto Police Department until you were terminated due to… let’s just say, having a bad attitude and not listening well to authority figures.”
The man paused and stared at Chase in the rearview mirror.
“Do I have your attention now?”
Chase nodded.
“Okay,” the man said, lowering the gun and nodding toward the road ahead. “Make a left at the next corner and continue on until you hit The Beaches area. There is a little pub up there that we can grab a drink at and have a little chat.”
Were these guys undercover cops or something? But why haven’t they arrested him yet?
Not believing this was actually happening, he glanced at both men. “You guys got a name? Or do I just go ahead and call you Blondie and Mad Dog?”
“Mad Dog?” the dark-haired man asked, twisting his eyebrows upward.
“On account of how you never smile and you’re always brooding,” Blondie replied.
“I smile.”
“Only when I’m riding your dick and have you pinned to the bed,” Blondie says, with a smirk on his face.
Mad Dog blushed. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” Then, looking back over at Chase. “I’m Marc, and this is my husband, Alex.”
Chase nodded, wondering what the fuck was going on. He began to drive, making a left at the corner and heading toward Toronto’s trendy beach area.
3
CHASE
“Wait. Before we go inside,” the growly man, who introduced himself as Marc, said once they stepped out of the car.
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small packet, and passed it to Chase.
“It’s for your shirt. You got a bit of Sheppard on your… chest,” Marc said, motioning toward Chase’s shirt.
