“Home,” Rowena said, gently petting Jimmy’s hair. “We’re going home.”
The door popped open, Tamerlane shouting, “Let’s fuckin’ go, Jerry!” He sat down opposite Rowena and Jimmy, helping himself to some liquor from the bar.
The limo took off, Jimmy groaning as his stomach lurched in protest.
Tamerlane grabbed an empty champagne bucket, shoving it at Jimmy as he said, “Here.”
“Thanks,” Jimmy mumbled, pushing his face into it. The metal felt cool against his flushed skin, swallowing back a streak of bile trying to crawl up his throat.
“You’re Doc’s kid.”
“Who?” Jimmy looked up at the hitman, frowning.
“David Poe,” Tamerlane replied, “the Doc.”
“You... you know my dad?” Jimmy asked with a loud belch. He coughed, mumbling, “Sorry.”
Tamerlane didn’t seem to mind. “Yeah. Doc takes care of most of the guys in Westchester when they’re fucked up. They’re too afraid of the infirmary staff, those pricks are fuckin’ butchers. But not your old man. Stubbed toe, shanked, whatever. Inmates all go to him.”
“Did he ever help you?” Jimmy asked curiously.
“Nah, but I did send him a lot of business while I was in,” he replied with a dark chuckle.
Jimmy felt sick again.
“Doc is a good man,” Tamerlane said, his expression one of admiration.
“I’m trying to get him out,” Jimmy sighed into the bucket. “He doesn’t belong there.”With people like you, he thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud.
“Only innocent man in Westchester,” Tamerlane agreed.
“You think he’s innocent?”
“I know he is,” Tamerlane snorted. “Trust me, kid. I know what a killer looks like. Your old man? Ain’t got what it takes.”
“Thanks.” Jimmy found the comment strangely reassuring. If only a judge would accept Tamerlane’s instincts as admissible evidence, he thought crazily to himself. He closed his eyes, trying not to vomit any more, letting Rowena’s long fingernails dragging through his scalp soothe him.
“You okay?” Tamerlane asked, speaking to Rowena.
“I’m good,” she replied softly, as if she thought Jimmy might be asleep.
“Your bar tab says otherwise,” he drawled, clearly not believing her.
“You got a problem, Tamerlane?”
“No problem, just concerned.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
They didn’t say another word until they got back to Cold’s estate.
“Wakey wakey, drunky drunk,” Rowena chirped, gently rubbing Jimmy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you inside and get you all better.”
Jimmy whined like a petulant child. “Fuck, I am never drinking again.”
“Lies,” Rowena giggled, helping him sit up and stumble out of the limo with Tamerlane’s assistance.
They came through the front door, each with an arm around Jimmy, dragging him through the foyer and into a small sitting room. Propping him in a chair, Rowena patted his head and said, “Just stay put, sweetie. We’re gonna go check in with Roddy, okay?”
