What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (108 page)

Chase stood up again. “I’m used to getting some attention from the media,” he said.

“I’m sure you are,” Sherm said. “But this is going to be different, I think. It might get a little hairy out there for some time.”

“If you think this is harder than fighting for my life on the streets of Detroit, then maybe you should come visit my old neighborhood some time.” Chase grinned, as he grasped onto Faith’s hand again.

“We’ll be starting to tease the interview almost immediately,” Sherm told them. “Probably within the next few hours. Clips will be spreading like wildfire. If I were you, I’d be safely hidden away for a few days. We’ll be airing the entire episode tomorrow night. Primetime special.”

Faith grabbed onto Chase’s arm and felt herself sway from the shock of it.

“Primetime, huh?” Chase laughed. “Like Monday night football.”

“Exactly,” Sherm said. “Exactly right, Chase.”

A few minutes later, Faith and Chase were leaving the office, going down the elevators and leaving the building together.

“I can’t believe what you did in there,” she said softly, as they exited.

Chase stopped walking and looked at her as they stood on the sidewalk out front. “I did it for you,” he said.

“I don’t understand. I never asked for that.”

“I know. But if I’m going to be the kind of man you deserve, I have to come clean. I want to be someone you can be proud to call your guy.”

Faith felt a huge smile breaking out on her face. “I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life than I was watching you today. It was amazing.”

He leaned in and kissed her, first gently and then passionately. A few passersby yelled out at them.

When Faith broke away from the kiss, his face was flushed. “I don’t care who sees us,” he told her.

“Me either. I’ll do anything you need,” she said. “Anything.”

They continued holding hands, walking down the street towards Chase’s car. Soon after, they were in the car and driving.

“Where should we go now?” Faith asked.

“Home,” he replied. “Where else?”

“I don’t know,” she said, picking at her lower lip anxiously. “He said things are going to get pretty crazy. Maybe we should go check into a hotel under an assumed name or something.”

Chase laughed loudly. “Shit, girl. You do surprise me sometimes. Assumed names? Who are we, Bonnie and Clyde?”

She laughed too. “I don’t know. I’m starting to think so—“

Suddenly, she felt a jolt as they were struck from behind by another vehicle.

“Fuck,” Chase said, looking in the rearview mirror. “Goddamn idiot rear-ended me.”

“It didn’t seem too bad.”

He put on his signal and pulled over to the side of the road. “Wait here,” he told Faith, as he put the car in park and got out.

Faith turned around, craning her head to see out the back window of the car.

There was a dark sedan parked behind them with its flashers on.

Chase was walking towards the sedan when she got an awful feeling. “Chase!” she cried out. She fumbled for the door handle and opened it. “Chase, be careful!” she cried, realizing that there was something amiss.

Chase glanced back at her. “What?” he said, his expression puzzled.

And then understanding dawned on him as the doors of the sedan opened and three very large men got out of the car.

Faith got out of the car, too. “Leave him alone!” she shouted. “Help!”

One of the men had a gun. The man with the pistol pointed at Chase didn’t speak.

“Step into my office,” one of the other men said. He was big, but a little older, and worn looking. He had thinning black hair and a mustache that drooped at the corners of his mouth. The man pointed to his sedan.

“Fuck that,” Chase said. “I’m not getting in that car.”

The mustachioed man tilted his head towards Faith. “Okay, then,” he said.

The big man with the gun quickly stepped over and grabbed her by the wrist and jabbed the gun into her ribs.

Faith cried out.

“You hurt her and I will end you,” Chase said. He was breathing heavily, turning his head from left to right, looking like a caged lion.

“Get in the car tough guy, or I’ll tell my buddy to paint the street with her insides. Sound good?” the mustachioed man said. His voice sounded very familiar.

And then she remembered why.

It was that man from Club Alpha that she’d spoken to on the phone. Max Mendez.

Chase seemed resigned. He slowly approached the sedan and got inside. Max Mendez looked at Faith. “Bring her, too. Put her up front so this clown knows we mean business.”

The man with the gun grabbed her tight around the arm and stuffed the gun hard into her back, then steered her, pushing her towards the menacing black sedan.

He opened the door and sat her down, then got in next to her and shoved her over, slamming the door shut.

In the back, Chase was sandwiched between Max Mendez and another goon.

“What do you want?” Chase asked Max.

“We’re very, very concerned about you, Chase,” Max said.

“You should’ve just called.”

“No, this needs more than a call.”

Faith turned her head and looked back to see what was going on. Chase looked like a bull about to go wild. Max from Club Alpha was dripping sweat and looked ready to give the order for them to be killed at any moment.

Her insides went soft and she felt like she might be sick.

The gun was still pressed into her ribcage, and the man sitting next to her was watching her with dead eyes. He smelled of strong, cheap cologne.

“So what’s the problem?” Chase said. “You guys are supposed to work for me.”

Max laughed a deep, phlegmy laugh. “Sure, we do. We work for you. Are you really that dumb?”

“I guess I am.”

“Too many concussions,” Max said. “I guess that’s why you went to Vox News, huh?”

“They were just doing a little interview,” Chase said. “It was a puff piece about the upcoming game.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Max said. And then he gave a nod of his head towards the front.

Suddenly, the man next to Faith grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard. Hard enough to really hurt her. She screamed.

Chase moved as if to do something about it.

“Sit back or we do worse to her,” Max threatened loudly. “I am not fucking around. Don’t be a hero. Just sit still and listen the fuck to me.”

Chase was breathing heavily through his nostrils. He looked almost insane, his eyes wild.

Faith was sweating now, too. She was starting to realize that this was all real.

Like, really real. Chase had pissed off some very powerful, very mean people.

And she might pay for it with her life.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered to the man next to her.

His dead eyes didn’t even flinch.

“Okay,” Chase muttered. “I’m listening. Just…don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever you want, Max.”

“That’s better,” Max said. “That’s a good boy.” A bead of sweat dripped down his cheek and dropped onto his shirt collar. “Now, here’s the deal. You’re going to walk back to Vox News and tell them the story’s not going to air. You tell them if they air it, even one little segment, you’ll sue them. Tell them you’re not in your right mind and you’re checking into rehab. Tell them it was all lies. Got it?”

Chase nodded his head. “Okay. Yeah. But what if they don’t listen and air it anyway? I already signed contracts.”

“They won’t air it if you tell them you’re nuts. Certifiable. We’ll get an upstanding psychiatrist to back us up. Give you a few days of rest and relaxation at one of those country club hospitals with grass tennis courts and shit.”

“I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it,” Chase said. “Just promise me you won’t hurt her.”

“We keep her until we’re sure the interview isn’t airing,” Max said. “If anything so much as leaks out on YouTube—we will make sure you never see her alive again. This is not a fucking joke,” Max said. “The people who pay us are not happy, asshole. You fucked with the wrong people this time.”

“I see that,” Chase said softly.

“Yeah, we’re not some street thugs from Detroit,” Max spat. “You thugs think you’re really tough and then you shit your drawers when I come around.”

From outside the window on the street, a couple of teenagers were walking by and noticed Chase in the backseat of the car. One of them pointed at him and yelled.

They called his name.

“Shit,” Max said. “Get rid of those kids out there. Quickly, before they cause a scene.”

The man sitting next to Faith turned his head to look out the window, and for a moment his gun was pulled away from her ribcage.

She turned and gave Chase a frightened look, and in that moment, it was as if they were able to connect and understand one another without words. Just from the look on her face, he knew exactly what he needed to do and how little time there was to do it.

Chase instantly burst into action.

Faster than Faith could’ve even thought possible, Chase kicked his powerful leg up and over the seat, and his foot struck the gunman in the side of his head.

The blow was so hard that the man’s head ricocheted into the front windshield, causing it to crack into a spider web pattern.

The man fell forward, totally unconscious. In the center of cracked windshield was a glob of blood. His gun dropped right beside her feet with a hollow thump.

Faith screamed and fumbled to get out of the car.

Chase turned and elbowed the man next to him in the face, instantly shattering his nose. It exploded in a mass of blood.

Max Mendez tried to get away, but Chase grabbed him by the throat and delivered three hard punches to his face. Max went slack, slumping down in his seat.

“I
am
from Detroit, motherfucker!” Chase screamed and then delivered one more brutal punch to the unconscious gangster’s face. One of his teeth flew into the front seat, landing near her. It was yellowish and there were strands of pinkish flesh hanging off the end of it, and the flesh was bloody.

Faith somehow managed to get out of the car, even though her hands were numb with shock. Chase stumbled out of the backseat at about the same time, and as he did so, Max Mendez fell limply, headfirst, onto the pavement.

People were yelling and pointing and the scene was one of total pandemonium.

Quickly, they moved to Chase’s car, which had been idling the entire time.

Moments later, they were safely inside his vehicle and speeding away from the frightening mess and the sirens that gathered in the distance.

T
hey checked
into a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, and Chase had her pay cash for the room, while he waited in the car.

When they got inside the room, Chase drew the shades and flopped onto one of the cheap, queen-sized beds. “Did you use an assumed name?” he asked her, grinning.

Faith giggled, tossing the room key onto the nightstand. “Bonnie A. Clyde,” she said.

“Bullshit.”

She lay down next to him and looked into his dark eyes. Her smile faded. “I’m scared,” she said softly.

He reached up and caressed her hair with his long, thick fingers. “Don’t be scared,” he told her. His eyes were dark, but no longer did they seem to carry endless pain.

“I had a gun shoved in my ribs,” she said. “They were going to kill me.”

“It didn’t work out too well for them, though. Did it?” he said, his eyes hardening slightly.

“No,” Faith replied simply. “But next time…”

“There isn’t going to be a next time. That was their last gasp, their last attempt to kill the story before it hit the public.”

“Why does Club Alpha care about you talking to the media?” she said. “And how do they even know about your interview?”

Chase continued stroking her hair as he talked. “I always thought that Club Alpha was hired to help me, but I think they actually do the dirty work for the big fish. The bosses. Guys like the owner of the New England Nationals. Maybe even the league itself.”

Faith felt herself shiver. “But then…”

“Then, nothing,” Chase soothed. “This was their power move. But once the interview airs, those Club Alpha fucks can’t touch me. At least, not with that rough stuff they tried to pull today.”

“So the league will just let you get away with it, then? Get away with airing all their dirty laundry?” she asked.

Chase smiled, stroking her cheek. “Hell, no. I didn’t say that, girl. They’ll try and ruin my rep. Leak stories about me. Trash me to the media. Make my life a living hell. Sue me until I’m dead broke.”

Faith felt her eyes well up with tears, which spilled out and down her cheeks. “That’s terrible. You don’t deserve that.”

“Life isn’t fair. Never was. Never will be,” he told her. He continued stroking her cheek. “Funny thing is, now that I finally let all the shit out, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life. I don’t even care that my career’s as good as dead and I’m probably going to have to leave the damn country.”

“We,” she corrected him.

“We?”

“We’re going to have to leave the damn country,” she said. “Together.”

“Always,” he said. And then he was pulling her down on top of him, maneuvering her body with ease, as he began kissing her passionately.

They couldn’t resist one another.

She stripped off his shirt, ran her palms down his thickly muscled chest, feeling his burning heat. His skin was hot, on fire, and he was twitching with desire.

Both of them were.

Chase took off her shirt, too, and then unsnapped her bra with a quick flick of his deft fingers. Her bra fell off, exposing her breasts, which he quickly grabbed, his strong hands kneading her flesh.

She moaned and threw her head back.

“Fuck,” she said, her nipples tightening and stiffening as he continued to massage her breasts with his large hands.

She was riding his cock, but he was still clothed from the waist down.

“Damn, girl,” he said. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“I need your dick,” she said. “I’m so wet for you, Chase.” She looked down at him.