“Thank you, sir,” Jimmy sighed contently. He had never felt so proud of himself, happy that he had done such a great job.
Cold smiled at him, brief but uncharacteristically happy, enough to make Jimmy’s stomach flutter. It only lasted a moment before Cold rose again and returned to the bathroom. The door shut, and Jimmy heard the lock engage.
Pulling the sheets up over himself, Jimmy wiggled his jaw to ease some of the tension out. It was sore from being forced open for so long, but he couldn’t stop smiling. The sex had been absolutely incredible; the rimming, the gag, and especially Cold allowing him to be so close.
The gentle way Cold had tended to him afterwards made Jimmy’s very soul ache. He wanted to please Cold even more than ever, desperate to do anything asked of him just to get that kind of attention again. He could hear the shower starting, wishing he could be in there with Cold to help wash him.
It drove him crazy that he still had no idea what the man looked like naked.
His imagination ran away from him, fantasizing about a flawless chiseled chest and moist, dripping abdominals. He was too damn tired to stay awake and hopefully catch a peek and see if the real thing could compare to his fantasy. He wiggled around the bed, getting comfortable, and his eyes started to close. Despite his brain being the consistency of pudding from an evening of intense stimulation, he knew he had to talk to Cold about Augustus before it was too late.
Tomorrow. He would talk to him about it tomorrow before the party.
Jimmy felt a longing deep inside of him, and he realized that he didn’t want to lose the arrangement he had with Cold. It was about the money, he told himself, he had to make sure he paid off his debt. He wanted to be able to buy groceries, get his fucking life together, and finally get his father out of prison.
But his last waking thoughts were of icy blue eyes and a wicked smirk. No matter how hard he tried, he knew in his heart that it wasn’t only about the money. Not anymore.
Jimmy passed out, not waking again until there was a familiar frantic knock at the door at a quarter after nine. He mumbled sleepily, flailing around to retrieve his robe. Cold was long gone, and Jimmy couldn’t say whether or not he had actually slept next to him last night. He’d slept so soundly that a bomb going off probably wouldn’t have woken him.
Lumbering to the door, Jimmy glanced through the peephole to see Lola’s frantic face. Late again.
Jimmy grinned, letting her in with the giant cart of food, already soothing, “Hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it—”
“Please tell Mr. Frost I am so sorry!” Lola was crying as she struggled to get the tray set up and set a domed dish on top. “The kitchen, it’s just so much—”
“Really! It’s not a big deal! It’s all good!” Jimmy assured her, smiling brightly. “I promise, it’s fine. As far as I know? Hey, you were here at nine o’clock sharp.”
“Thank you, Jimmy,” Lola sighed, obviously relieved. She pressed her hands together, fidgeting anxiously as she asked, “If it was a smaller order, it might not be so difficult to make it here on time.”
Jimmy nodded, his head tilting curiously. “Does, uh, Mr. Frost always order this much food?”
“No, sir,” Lola replied, shaking her head. “Yesterday was the first time he’s ever ordered any room service other than drinks.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jimmy promised, smiling warmly.
Lola patted Jimmy’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you so very much, I appreciate that. Oh! And read your note, don’t forget to read the note first.”
“I will! Thank you, Lola!” Jimmy waved farewell, waiting for her to leave before lifting the dome. Like yesterday, there was another card waiting for him. Jimmy grinned, happily plopping down in bed to read it.
$237,007.19
Rowena will come by your apartment at four o’clock. Be ready.
-RL
Jimmy’s stomach churned in a mix of excitement and dread as he ate his breakfast. Somewhere between shopping with Boss Cold’s baby sister and attending a party with him, he had to find time to talk to him about Augustus Duplin.
Jimmy didn’t know what Cold was going to do when he told him, but if there was any chance of their deal moving forward, he had to tell him the truth.
But first things first. Today was Friday, and Jimmy still had enough cash left over from his tip to grab a taxi to Westchester Prison. They had visiting hours from ten o’clock to two, and Jimmy already knew what he was going to do that morning.
He was going to see his father.
Chapter Six
David Poe had been arrested seventeen years ago for the murder of his wife, Eliza.
The neighbors heard sounds of a scuffle and screaming, quickly calling the police. David was found standing over her body with a knife in his hand when authorities arrived. He insisted he had come home late and found his wife already dead on the floor, picking up the knife only after checking for vitals and realizing she was beyond resuscitation.
