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 youtakehis 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 Ekström, and where is Marcus Ekström?”
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.”
