Being Chase Read online

  Being Chase

  The Chase Series: Book One

  J. J. Scotts

  ~

  Copyright © 2014 by J.J. Scotts

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Copyright © 2014 by J.J. Scotts

  ~

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Warning: This work contains scenes of a graphic sexual nature and it is written for adults only (18+). All characters depicted in this story are over 18 years of age.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  You want to find a job in New York City? Do you even know how much it costs to live there? Are you out of your mind?

  I really had heard it all before moving here. I knew the job search was going to be an awful, soul-sucking experience, and I was ready to face it. Well, that’s what I tried to convince myself because I didn’t have any other options.

  I pinched my thigh, hard, yet again. It was not the first time this morning. Or even this week. Ever since I’d gotten the phone call from a bland-voiced woman asking me to come in for an interview, I’d been questioning my luck. But, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking ecstatic!

  Rubix Publishing. I was sitting in a sparsely decorated conference room, in a chair that probably cost as much as everything in my apartment including rent, with a job offer in my hand. And no matter how many times I pinched myself – I’d probably have a blue bruise tomorrow – the greenish-gray walls didn’t dissolve around me. It wasn’t a dream.

  “You haven’t left anything off your résumé, I presume?” One of the interviewers, Landon I think, arched one thin blond brow at me, pale eyes scouring my face. That’s how he’d introduced himself. Just ‘Landon.’ I didn’t know if it was his last name or his first. Staring across the table at him, I noticed again the too-smooth skin around his light blue eyes. He looked almost... robotic. It was unsettling. Maybe this was a dream after all. Or a nightmare.

  I cleared my throat. “No. Uh... that’s everything.” I gave him a big, toothy grin and hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. The truth was, my résumé was anemic. I knew it, and based on Landon’s grim-faced perusal of the mostly empty sheet of paper, he knew it too.

  But they’d called me in. And despite the awkwardness of the interview so far, they’d still handed me the job offer. I ran my thumbs over the fine grain of the paper in my hands, confirming it was still there.

  It was.

  Landon made a noise in the back of his throat. A thick ‘mmph.’ But that plastic face didn’t so much as twitch. He was clearly not impressed with Liam Alexander Collins, twenty-seven-year-old college dropout and day laborer. On paper or in person.

  Beside Landon, the other interviewer, Eli, flashed me an encouraging smile. He was round and dark in contrast to Landon’s slender blondness. Kind of like salt and pepper. I bit my cheek to keep from snorting a laugh at the odd thought. A neatly trimmed beard covered Eli’s cheeks, which were slightly flushed.

  The two of them were doing a whole good cop/bad cop thing with me, though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. I was so stoked to be getting a job offer from a company like Rubix, I didn’t much care if they were looking for a janitor. I’d only been in the city a month, but New York obviously wasn’t cheap and the small amount of savings I had were pretty much zilch.

  Not that I wanted to mop up and scrub toilets, or whatever they wanted from me, but it couldn’t be any more difficult than tarring a roof in the middle of the summer heat, or hauling lumber or bags of cement. I was no stranger to hard work.

  “And you haven’t gone to many other interviews, Mr. Collins?” Landon’s voice was chilly, his thin lips colorless as they shaped his words. He wanted me to squirm under that icy gaze, I was pretty sure. I cracked the knuckles of my right hand, suddenly conscious of the thick calluses on my palm. I’d be willing to bet every last cent of my meager savings that neither of the two men sitting across from me had ever worked with their hands.

  “No, sir. This is my first one.”

  Even Eli flinched a little at that. I wanted to point out that most of the work I’d done had been either working on a farm, like the one I’d grown up on, or construction-type jobs. Not exactly the kind of thing you did formal interviews for. But I kept it to myself. A lot of the work I’d done was under-the-table. And not on my résumé.

  “I just moved to the city a month ago,” I reminded them. I shifted in my seat, trying not to clutch the sheet of paper in my fist. Eli had handed it to me almost the minute I’d gotten in the door, ushering me in from the deserted lobby where I’d been waiting for a receptionist to appear.

  I wasn’t quite sure if the offer was official yet or not. Maybe I hadn’t gotten the job? Eli had acted like it was a done deal. But now, Landon was asking these questions like he wasn’t on board. I exhaled a slow breath through my nose and concentrated on keeping that big smile on my face.

  “You were a debate champion!” Eli’s cheeks were cherry red, and he said the words more like a statement than a question. Like he was reminding me. My lips twitched into a more genuine grin.

  “Yes, sir, that’s right. I was the NFL Tri-state Champion two years running.” I hesitated at the possibility of a misunderstanding of “NFL.”

  Landon rolled his eyes. Eli’s thick, heavy brow furrowed. He glanced down at his copy of my résumé, dark brown eyes scanning the embarrassingly few lines of type.

  “Ahh. The National Forensic League.”

  I nodded. Eli’s florid cheeks creased with a broad smile. He leaned over to whisper something in Landon’s ear. I took the moment to glance down at the job offer I’d been handed. I hadn’t even taken any time to look over it yet. I was too busy concentrating on not fucking up this interview, not letting on that my heart was desperately beating like I was running a marathon.

  There were smudges on the edges of the paper. Sweat stains from my palms. I scanned the thick legalese quickly, trying to find out where they mentioned a job title, hoping neither Eli nor Landon asked for the paper back.

  I saw something about a credit check, a background check, a non-disclosure agreement ... but no explanation of just what it was that I would be doing … if I was hired anyway. Not that it would change my mind.

  It’s not like I could just head back home, tail between my legs, if I failed. My old man had made that very clear. And none of my other job leads had panned out so far. It was this or ... well, there was no ‘or.’ Desperation is a powerful motivator. If I didn’t get this, I was fucked.

  Still, I felt distinctly off-kilter. Thrilled, but off-kilter.

  Landon returned the muttering in Eli’s ear now, the corners of his mouth turned down. His cold eyes flicked a look at me like a whip. I let my eyes wander, trying to give them a moment of privacy as best I could.

  There was no artwork on the walls for me to feign interest in. I would have thought a company like Rubix Publishing would have literary quotes or something on the walls. Something posh and trendy. But they were just a blank greenish-gray. Horridly neutral.

  The two men had ended their whispered conversation an
d were once again scrutinizing me. Eli was smiling, Landon was frowning. Comedy and tragedy masks, staring across the table at me.

  Landon’s gaze crawled from the top of my carefully combed light brown hair, downward, as if he could see through the table to the tips of my cheap black dress shoes. His thin upper lip curled slightly and my chest clenched as if he was criticizing me.

  I was wearing my best pair of charcoal-gray slacks and a freshly ironed green button-down shirt that my mother had bought me for Christmas years ago. She said it brought out the green in my hazel eyes. The shirt stretched taut over my shoulders and biceps. I was bulkier with muscle now than when she’d gotten it for me, but it still fit reasonably well, and I thought I’d made a pretty good show of things.

  The narrow blond man across the table was looking at me as if I’d rolled into the lobby wearing ripped jeans and an Ed Hardy t-shirt. Then again, his suit looked like it cost more than I made in a year back home. Well, maybe just the tie.

  Finally done with his perusal, he turned to Eli and shrugged. Eli clapped his pudgy hands together once, loudly.

  “Wonderful, wonderful. Mr. Collins, thank you so much for coming in! This is going to work out splendidly!” He extended his hand across the table to me.

  I blinked, hesitating a moment before reaching out to take it. “Does this mean I have the job?”

  Landon made that thick sound in his throat again, but Eli ignored him so I decided to as well. Eli dropped my hand, scrawled something on a sheet of paper, and shoved it at me.

  “Just bring your employment papers with you to this address at 9 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning and we’ll get started.”

  I glanced down at the piece of paper he’d thrust into my hand. It was at some location I didn’t recognize – not that I’d recognize an address after only being here for a month. I frowned down at it, and then back up at Eli and Landon. It took several seconds before the reality of the situation sank into my befuddled brain.

  I had gotten the job! A job with Rubix Publishing. My first interview and I’d been hired on the spot. Some of the tension that had been hanging on my shoulders since I’d gotten to the city slid off. A smile so broad my cheeks hurt from containing it spread across my face.

  “Okay?” The word came out sounding more like a question than a statement. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Okay. Thank you. Both of you.”

  Eli extended his hand again and I shook it, more enthusiastically this time. Landon didn’t bother. He just gave me a short nod, his cold eyes never once leaving my face, searching for weaknesses or flaws. That’s how it felt. Like a predator sizing up its prey.

  I waved briefly as I made my way out the conference room door, wandering down the hall to the wall of elevators with the grin still plastered on my face. I had a job! A real job in an office, and in a notoriously unforgiving city.

  At least, I assumed it would be in an office. I still wasn’t sure exactly what it was I would be doing. But, at that moment, I was too excited to worry. I stared down at the papers in my hand as I wandered out onto the bustling city street and hurried to the subway.

  I should have worried.

  Chapter 2

  This couldn’t be right.

  I stared from the piece of paper in my hand to the gold numbers on the white stone building in front of me. This was definitely the address.

  But...this was not the chrome-and-glass office building I had been anticipating when I made my way here this morning. This place, with its black awning, artistically frosted glass doors, and gleaming white stone, looked like a high-end residence. Seriously high end. The buildings on either side looked like residences too.

  I glanced up and down the street, at the doorways to the buildings on either side. To my right, a doorman in a uniform of deep green with gold fringe on the shoulders stood to attention against the wall. He touched a stubby finger to the brim of his hat at a woman, who looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine, as he moved to open the door for her.

  “What the hell?” I stared down at my papers again, flipping the sheet over, even re-reading the employment offer to see if I’d missed some pertinent detail or bit of information that would explain what exactly I was doing here.

  I must have the wrong place.

  Just as I reached into my pocket, planning to fish out my cell and call the Rubix office number and hopefully speak to someone who could clear this whole thing up, a buff man in uniform stepped out of the doors. He was dressed similarly to the doorman in green livery, at least somewhat. His suit was black with red piping on the sleeves and collar and his hat was shaped differently.

  “Something I can help you with, sir?” he asked me rather sternly, tilting his head back to meet my gaze. He was fairly tall – almost meeting my six-foot height. “There is no solicitation allowed here.”

  “No, no. I uh... I’m here for a job? Rubix Publishing?” I felt heat in my cheeks and shook my head. “But maybe I’m in the wrong place.” I frowned down at the paper again. Maybe Eli had written down the wrong address.

  But the doorman beckoned me forward. “Hurry up then. He’s waiting inside.”

  I swallowed the sigh of relief that swelled in my throat and followed the well-dressed doorman.

  Early morning sunlight gleamed on marble and glass, momentarily blinding me. I blinked, squinting to take in the rest of the entryway. I felt my jaw loosen and my eyes widen as I scanned the space around me.

  I’d never seen anything like this place. The space was huge, the ceilings high, with an enormous and ornate chandelier hanging above my head, glowing with warm light.

  Straight ahead was a round counter, like the check-in at a hotel. Damn, this place looked like a really swanky hotel. The surface was a creamy marble shot through with veins of green and gold. The floor was marble too, though it was grey and black. Two men dressed in neat black suits sat behind the counter. They looked a bit like businessmen at first, but then one of them shifted in his chair and I saw a gun strapped beneath his arm under his blazer.

  Security. There were probably monitors below my line of sight.

  To the right of the counter was a diagonal hallway with three elevators, doors shining silver. To the left was a fourth elevator with a keycard entry. That fourth door had the word “TOWER” printed in gold letters over the top.

  In front of the counter, to the right as you entered the door, was a sort of waiting area. There were low leather couches, wingback chairs, a few plants, and thick rugs.

  Eli was seated on one of the couches, one leg bent and resting on the opposite knee. He had an iPad resting on the bent leg, thick fingers flashing over the screen, and a cell phone pressed to his ear. When he saw me, his brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned.

  “I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, and ended the call. He hopped to his feet and beckoned me over. “Good morning, Liam! I see you’re right on time. Prompt as anything. Great!” He grasped my hand when I got close enough and pumped it in an enthusiastic handshake.

  I couldn’t help but smile in response and return the grip. Eli’s exuberance was contagious. “Morning to you too, sir. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place.”

  “Bit of a shock, huh? She’s a beautiful building alright. Built in 1907, wasn’t she?” He addressed this last bit to the soldier-like doorman, who nodded solemnly.

  “That’s right, sir. She’s renovated regularly to upkeep the architecture.”

  Eli smiled in approval and escorted me to the left, toward the keyed elevator.

  “Anyway, you’re here! Did you have a good breakfast? Most important meal of the day, you know.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “Black coffee and some Cheerios.” Stale Cheerios, actually. For the life of me, I couldn’t get a hang of that whole folding the plastic packet part down to keep cereal from going bland. It seemed to happen in about a week, no matter what I tried.

  Eli shook his head as he slid a keycard from his inner breast pocket and press
ed it into the silver slot beside the elevator. The doors slid open on silent tracks, revealing a wide interior done in dark woods with silver gilt mirrors. When we stepped inside I couldn’t help but childishly marvel at the many reflections of me and Eli the mirrors created.

  He pressed one of four numberless buttons and the doors slid closed, cutting off our view of the luxurious lobby. I coughed into one hand and resisted the urge to tug at the collar of my button-down shirt. The only one I owned.

  “I uh...it occurred to me I didn’t actually ask... I mean...” I rubbed the back of my left hand with my right as they rested in front of me, completely unsure how to broach the subject that I had no idea what kind of job they wanted me to do. Eli clapped his hand on my shoulder.

  “No worries, Liam. Just wait ‘til we get upstairs, and if you still have questions, we can clear them up then. You brought your paperwork, I see.”