by K. L. Hiers
Whatever it was, Jerry was blushing. He seemed to be floating on a cloud as he left to get Jimmy’s drink, leaving him alone with Charlie again.
“Tell me, Jimmy,” Charlie said, smiling brightly and leaning forward in his seat. “What are you thinking? I have a portfolio we could look over if you’d like. Are you a visual person? Do you need to see things to really envision them? What about...?”
Jimmy let Charlie ramble away for several minutes and tried to tune him out. He prayed he would go deaf, gratefully accepting the appletini Jerry brought to him. “Thank you, Jerry.”
“Oui, monsieur.” Jerry cast a bashful look toward Charlie before taking his leave.
“I don’t think you’ve been listening to a word I’ve said,” Charlie suddenly accused.
“Mm?” Jimmy peered owlishly over the rim of his glass. He gulped awkwardly, stammering, “No, n-no! I was really listening! To... to all of that... uh, the slideshow...? You wanted to make a slideshow?”
“Mr. Poe,” Charlie sighed wearily. “My job is to make your special day, well, special. I need your participation for that, and Mr. Legrand has made it very clear to me that every decision is yours to make.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, setting his drink down. “I’m not trying to make it so difficult. It’s just hard to care about something I didn’t want.”
“Then tell me. What do you want?” Charlie asked earnestly.
“I want Rod to ask me... I mean... I just wanted this to be personal.” Jimmy was struggling to find the right words without giving away too much. “Everything shouldn’t be up to me. You know, like this wedding planning! This should be something we’re doing together!”
“Ah, of course! Many couples find that planning their wedding is a wonderful activity that brings them closer together as a couple! Perhaps we can ask Mr. Legrand to join us then?”
“That would be great! And as soon as we see Mr. Legrand, we must be sure to ask him!”
“Mmm, and what are you going to be asking me?” Cold said from the doorway, gracefully leaning against the frame with a smirk.
“Hey!” Jimmy stood up to kiss Cold’s cheek, his eyes fluttering when he felt Cold’s hand rest on the back of his neck. He flushed immediately, replying, “I wanted you to help with the wedding planning.”
“This is my gift to you,” Cold said firmly.
“You mean it’s your half-ass way of apologizing for marrying me in secret!” Jimmy grumbled quietly.
“I want you to have whatever you’d like.”
Narrowing his eyes, Jimmy hissed under his breath, “You are not leaving me alone with him! Come on!”
Cold’s lips tugged up into an amused smile. “Oh, but I’m simply too busy. I’m afraid my schedule won’t allow for the time it takes to plan a wedding of this scale.”
“Oh?” Jimmy drew back, planting his hands on his hips. “Well, then, I’m sorry! I don’t think I’m going to have time in my schedule to show up!” He glared back at Charlie, saying, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, but we’re not going to be needing your services.”
Charlie’s eyes bugged out and he looked to Cold for direction.
“Yes, we will,” Cold insisted. “There will be a wedding, and you are going to be present.”
“What are you going to do?” Jimmy snapped. “Drag me down the aisle?”
Cold scowled.
“Perhaps if we could all settle on a theme?” Charlie offered helpfully. “A winter theme may be a little too cheeky considering your little nickname, Mr. Legrand, but perhaps something rustic? What do you think, Jimmy?”
“I really, really don’t care,” Jimmy groaned.
“Jimmy,” Cold warned, “I would appreciate it if you weren’t so rude in front of our guest.”
“Ohhhh, don’t you even start about manners with me!”
“What about something more traditional?” Charlie squeaked, trying to derail the conversation away from the argument that was growing. “Maybe a nice church service?”
“I want you to please sit down and tell Charlie what you would like,” Cold said firmly. “There, I’m using manners now. Happy?”
“No,” Jimmy snapped. “You may be in charge in the freakin’ bedroom, but not here! Not like this!”
Charlie turned several shades of red while Cold’s expression hardened.
Before Cold could say anything in reply, Mickey Tamerlane came flying into the room. The usually sleek and stoic assassin was flustered, panting urgently, “Boss! They’re almost here!”
“Tamerlane, please see Charlie out before our guests arrive,” Cold ordered, grabbing Jimmy’s arm and dragging him back into the bedroom.
“Uh, thank you so much for your time?” Charlie called out hesitantly, and he squeaked as Tamerlane ran him out. “We’ll be in touch!”
“What the hell are you doing!” Jimmy snarled angrily, trying to pull his arm away from Cold. “Who’s here? Is it the feds?”
Cold actually looked stunned before realization dawned on him. He took a deep breath and sighed bitterly between clenched teeth. “Maury?”
“Who else? He’s the only person who ever freakin’ tells me what’s going on!” Jimmy snapped back.
“Listen to me very carefully.” Cold’s hands moved to grab Jimmy’s waist. “Whatever happens, do not be afraid. Everything is going to be fine. I want you to plan the wedding with Charlie and get everything ready—”
“Why are you talking like this?” Jimmy demanded, his anger rapidly extinguished by fear. He hugged Cold’s neck and clung to him tightly. “Rod, I love you. Fuck, I love you so damn much, but you have to tell me the truth!”
“You already know too much,” Cold said gently, sliding a hand to the back of Jimmy’s neck and holding firmly. “Please... trust me. Everything I am doing is to protect us. Never doubt the depth of my feelings for you.”
Jimmy jerked when the bedroom doors slammed open, Tamerlane on the other side and growling, “Boss! They’re here.”
Jules and Roger Lorre, another one of Cold’s Gentlemen and Tamerlane’s on-and-off-again beau, were right behind him.
“Hey!” Jules snarled angrily. “They’re fucking everywhere, Boss!”
“It’s fine.” Cold kept his arms tightly curled around Jimmy. “Is Thirdsies safe?”
“Yes,” Lorre replied. “Him and Valdemar are tucked away good.”
“Rod?” Jimmy asked urgently. “What the hell is happening?”
“Everything is going to be all right,” Cold promised.
“Rod, please—” Jimmy began to plead, the words lost in Cold’s mouth as Cold kissed him. He gasped at the passion behind the kiss and melted immediately. The whole world vanished away, and Jimmy was lost in those sweet lips. The hunger within threatened to devour him completely.
He was angry, he was scared, and he didn’t want the kiss to ever end. He couldn’t help a small moan when Cold squeezed his neck, the touch sending lightning down his spine and right to his dick. He didn’t understand Cold’s sudden urgency, as if he was trying to make every moment of the kiss count.
As if it was going to be their last.
The sounds of heavy footsteps broke them apart, and Jimmy found himself staring stupidly as a squad of cops flooded into the room. There were at least a dozen armed officers and two men with FBI emblazoned on their bulletproof vests.
“Freeze! Hands in the air! All of you!” the lead cop shouted, his weapon pointed right at Cold.
Tamerlane’s eyes were glassy and dark. He was already reaching for the guns at his hip, lost in a deadly trance. The other Gentlemen were also all poised to attack despite being grossly outnumbered.
Cold held up his hand, silently shaking his head.
Tamerlane bared his teeth, but backed down. He raised his arms as two cops immediately accosted him. They slammed him roughly up against the wall and took his guns.
“Hey! You pigs fuckin’ watch it!” Lorre barked furiously, grunting as one of the FBI agents grabbed h
is arm and twisted it behind his back.
Jules struggled when they came for him, and it took three men to keep him pinned to search him.
“Suspects are secure!” one of the FBI agents called out.
Detective Augustus Duplin appeared, marching through the crowd of officers toward them. Duplin was Jimmy’s adoptive father after David went to jail, and their relationship was complicated at best. The last time Duplin had come to the mansion was when Cold blackmailed him into helping him pull off his grand plan last year.
Jimmy was furious to see him waltzing so confidently into the bedroom. He pulled away from Cold’s embrace and glared at Duplin as he demanded, “What the hell do you think you’re doing here! You’d better have a freakin’ warrant—”
“Stay out of my way, Jimmy.” Duplin brushed right by him without another word. He refused to even look at Jimmy and stayed on course to face Cold. His expression was calm as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, regarding Cold with a blank stare.
“Hello, Detective,” Cold said calmly, standing perfectly still as if his home wasn’t being invaded. “It’s so nice to see you again. I’m assuming this is not a personal call.”
“Roderick Legrand,” Duplin said sternly, “you’re under arrest.”
“Ah.” Cold smiled icily. “What took you so long?”
Chapter Three
“Don’t get cute, Cold,” Duplin growled as he slapped the cuffs on him.
“I only meant that it seemed to take you an awful long time climbing up all those stairs,” Cold taunted. “Years are starting to catch up to you, hmm?”
“Roderick Legrand, you’re under arrest for the murder of Marco Luchesi. You have the right to remain silent,” Duplin recited dutifully, grabbing Cold’s shoulder and steering him toward the doors. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law...”
“Rod?” Jimmy called out weakly.
“Trust me, Jimmy,” Cold replied, offering him a surprisingly confident smile.
Jimmy barely heard the rest of the Miranda Rights, his heart slamming itself down into his stomach as Duplin took Cold away. He thought he was going to throw up. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and he couldn’t even find the words to say goodbye.
Cold, the love of Jimmy’s life, was being led out in handcuffs.
Murder, there were murder charges against him—but how? Wait, no, who?
Jimmy knew the name, Marco Luchesi, sounded familiar. He was too frantic to think straight and place where he’d heard it before. He watched the cops haul Tamerlane away for having guns as a convicted felon. Lorre was screaming and cursing to see his boyfriend being arrested, and Jules grabbed him in a tight hold to keep him from swinging at anyone in a uniform.
Jimmy could relate.
Numb and afraid, he sat down on the edge of the bed as the cops continued searching the room. This was supposed to be the safest place in the world, and he felt horribly vulnerable to see it all being ripped apart.
He flushed with shame when they dumped out the drawer of sex toys, and he jumped when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.
“Come along, monsieur,” Jerry was urging him. “Let’s go somewhere else, eh?”
Jimmy nodded sadly, letting Jerry guide him downstairs. Everywhere he looked, he saw cops searching the house with little to no care. A vase of calla lilies had been broken, and its shattered pieces had been left strewn across the hallway floor.
He felt like that vase, broken and lost. His chest was burning from all of the emotions threatening to steal his breath away. He was almost in tears and despair was beginning to take over.
No.
Jimmy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and held his head up high. Cold had shown him how strong he could be, drawing on all of the confidence they had been building together over the past year.
This wasn’t the time to cry; his tears could wait.
Right now, he had to think.
Cold had been arrested, and considering his notoriety, Jimmy was certain his arraignment would be soon. He knew Cold had strong influence over the courts, but he didn’t know if it would be enough to get out on bail.
“Mr. Poe?”
Jimmy scowled as one of the FBI agents approached him, and he stepped back instinctively. “I have nothing to say.”
“My name is Agent Richard Champignon,” the man said with a forced smile. “I’d like to talk to you about your husband.”
The sarcasm dripping off of the last word made Jimmy’s stomach clench up uncomfortably.
“I have nothing to say,” Jimmy repeated stubbornly. “Unless I’m also under arrest, I’m leaving. If you try to hold me unjustly, I’ll file a civil suit against you and the entire bureau for harassment and unlawful imprisonment.”
Champignon’s smile vanished and all pretense of being nice fell away. “Don’t even think about skipping town, Mr. Poe.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jimmy said curtly, brushing by him to exit the mansion. He was shaking with adrenaline by the time he reached the limo and collapsed down into the plush leather seats.
Jerry didn’t close the door right away, waiting for Jules to join them. Jimmy looked out the window as they drove away, watching more police vehicles crowd the driveway and scads of officers filtering into the house.
Jules clapped his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, grunting, “You did good, Twig.”
“I feel like I’m about to faint,” Jimmy mumbled. He tried to remember to breathe and raked his fingers through his hair. “Where’s Lorre?”
“Keeping an eye on shit,” Jules said. “Makin’ sure those pigs only get their paws on what’s covered with that search warrant.”
“Thought he was mad about Tamerlane getting pinched.”
“Nah, not really.” Jules shook his head. “We all knew that was happening. Why do you think he’s the only one who was packing heat?”
“Wait... that was planned?”
“Ain’t much that happens that the Boss didn’t plan,” Jules said with a smirk. “Now he’s not gonna be alone in the joint. We got plenty of support inside, you know, but Tamerlane needed to go, too.”
“Jules,” Jimmy said, his tone quickly becoming urgent, “please tell me what’s going on.”
“Can’t do that.” Jules’ brow furrowed with sympathy. “Just trust in the Boss, okay? This has been a long time comin’.”
“Who is Marco Luchesi?”
“A dead fuckin’ piece of shit.”
“Very helpful,” Jimmy grumbled.
“Look, we’re gonna meet up with the other Gentlemen at the club, down at La Belle—”
“We should be meeting with Cold’s lawyer!” Jimmy protested sharply. “Beccali and Beccali, right?”
“Yup, he’s got Christine ‘Face Fucker’ Beccali herself,” Jules replied with a smirk. “She’s one scrappy broad. I’m tellin’ you, Twig. There ain’t nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, sure!” Jimmy threw up his hands. “Cold just got dragged away in handcuffs, and the house is being raided! But nope! There’s nothing to worry about! I’m supposed to be planning a wedding for a husband I didn’t even know I freakin’ had, and now he’s going to jail!”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Jules shrugged.
Jimmy stewed the rest of the way, his attention redirected when he saw a mob of photographers and reporters waiting outside of La Belle et la Bête. “Shit.”
“Just move quick,” Jules said firmly. “Don’t answer no questions, don’t even look at them. I’ve got you, Twig.”
Jimmy felt very small when he got out of the limo, instantly wedged between Jerry and Jules as they escorted him inside. Cameras were flashing, and his ears were assaulted with a barrage of screaming voices.
“Were you with Boss Cold when he killed Marco Luchesi?” a reporter shouted.
“Is it true your father was a doctor for the mafia?” asked one. “Is that how you met Cold?”
“Mr. Poe! Mr. Poe! Did he tell you w
here he hid the body?” another screamed.
Jimmy closed his eyes, trying to shield himself from all of the noise. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard the club doors slam shut behind him, although he could still hear the roar outside.
Rowena was at the bar, a martini shaker in her hands and pouring a round of shots. “Now,” she began sweetly, “while it’s just lovely to see you guys, will someone please—” her voice rose to a scream, “—tell me what the fucking fuck is going on?”
“Yeah,” Jimmy immediately agreed, glaring behind him at Jules and Jerry. “That’d be nice.”
“Can’t.” Jules reached for one of the shots. “We got orders.”
“Then no shots for you!” Rowena snatched the glass away before Jules could grab it. “My brother has just been fuckin’ arrested, and I want some fuckin’ answers right now!”
“Starting with who the hell is Marco Luchesi?” Jimmy demanded, taking the shot that Jules had tried to get. “I know that name, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Rowena suddenly looked sad, pointing to her left side and clearing her throat. “That Marco Luchesi.”
Puzzled, Jimmy stared for a long moment until a vivid memory came back to him. He’d lain with Cold in bed going over his vast collection of scars. His pulse thudded miserably when he remembered what Cold had said as he touched the large scar that stretched over his left side.
“First time Marco Luchesi told me to use my mouth on him and I refused...”
“Wait, but Rod was sixteen when that happened!” Jimmy protested. “Did he... uh... take care of it... then?” He hated to assume Cold’s guilt, but this was one of the Luchesi men who had been abusing him. It wasn’t hard to believe.
“How about you focus on that wedding you gotta plan?” Jules said, stealing a bottle from behind the bar since Rowena wasn’t sharing. “And let us handle the gangster shit, all right?”
“Hey! We’re supposed to be a family!” Rowena piped up, slamming another shot back. “Listen, Marco was still around when Don Luchesi was murdered. Like back when the big war started, but after that? I don’t know. Thought he skipped town.”
Glaring at Rowena, Jules growled, “I hope you checked this place for bugs if you’re gonna be running your mouth like that.”