All he could do now was hope that Cold was, too.
Jules continued to dial on his phone, running a few lights and tires screaming with every turn. His face was blank now, but his eyes were wild with a fury that Jimmy had never seen before.
“Jules?” Jimmy asked quietly, sniffing back a fresh wave of tears. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
Jules said nothing.
“Jules,” Jimmy said more firmly, his voice rising to a frantic and angry shout. “Hey! Rod is my fucking husband, okay? He’s everything to me! I have a fucking right to know! Now fuckin’ tell me! Who were those guys at the house?”
“Luchesis’ people,” Jules grumbled. “Trying to make a move because shit’s gone real bad. That’s a good sign, though.”
“How the fuck is that a good sign?” Jimmy cried, slamming his flip-flops in his lap.
“Because if they came to the house lookin’ to kill Cold, that means there’s a really good fuckin’ chance that he’s still alive,” Jules replied. “You get it?”
“Shit,” Jimmy whispered, his heart clenching up tight. “What did you mean by shit going bad? What’s happened?”
“Bomb wasn’t supposed to go off,” Jules said quickly. “It was gonna be a dud, some sparkler ass bullshit, okay. Somebody was gonna call in a bomb threat, get the place evacuated, and scare off the Luchesis with the flood of fuckin’ cops that were gonna show up. Tamerlane would nick the guy on his way out, and we’d be done with it.”
“Then why the hell is the city on fuckin’ fire?”
“I don’t know,” Jules confessed. “Thirdsies was supposed to have the shit ready by 5:30, call was gonna be made at 5:45.”
“The news said that the fire’s been burning for over an hour! It’s only—” Jimmy looked at the car radio. “It’s only a quarter after five now!”
“I know,” Jules grunted with a faint snarl. He took a deep breath, saying more calmly, “I know. Somethin’ is wrong. I’m gonna go figure out what while your little ass stays put. Okay?”
“This is crap!” Jimmy bit back, clinging to the dashboard as Jules took another sharp turn. “I could help! I should be there with you!”
“And do what?” Jules snorted. “You gonna help me blow away some fuckin’ gangsters to save Cold? Huh? You gonna take a gun in your hand and pull the fucking trigger?”
“I don’t... I just...” Jimmy felt sick again, swallowing back a tidal wave of bile. He couldn’t imagine taking a life, no matter the circumstances, whispering helplessly, “I want to help.”
“The best way for you to help is to keep your little ass in the diner until me or somebody else comes to get you,” Jules said, aiming for comforting but still sounding gruff. “You got it?”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Sit, order coffee, eat a pie, I don’t fucking care!” Jules took another hard right and screeched to a sudden halt in front of a small twenty-four-hour diner wedged in between a large bank and a department store. “Whatever you do, you do not fucking leave. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jimmy said, fidgeting anxiously. He took a deep breath, trying to summon all the confidence and strength Cold had bestowed upon him. He grabbed Jules’ shoulder, refusing to let go even when he flinched. “You bring him back to me. You hear me?”
“You got it, Little Boss,” Jules replied with an approving grunt. “Now, you and your lil’ flippy floppies get yourself something to eat and just play it cool for a little while.”
“Thank you, Jules.” Jimmy got out, watching the El Camino peel away with a heavy sigh. He glanced up to the city’s skyline, catching a hint of smoke between the buildings above. He could hear the distant wail of sirens and he wanted to throw up again.
He put his flip-flops on and walked into the diner, seating himself down in a corner booth. It was moderately crowded, glancing warily over the other patrons. He managed a smile when the waitress brought him a menu, scanning over the selection.
Jimmy couldn’t decide on a single thing, asking for coffee and setting the menu down abruptly while the waitress went to get it. There was a time in his life, not too long ago, that eating at a diner would have been impossible for him. Even a low-key place like this would have been out of his budget.
The deal he’d made with Cold had changed his world forever. Before that fateful day, Jimmy had no prospects, zero opportunities, and definitely no joy. He’d survived on ramen and water, cried himself to sleep, and felt like a total failure.
Now, he had everything he could ever possibly want and then some.
Jimmy was well fed, clothed, and he had never been so happy. He had suits that cost as much as his often overdue rent once had. Cold would not accept anything less than the absolute best for him, and Jimmy knew he was quite spoiled.
Cold loved him, and though he had always struggled with the words, he had no problem showing it. Whether it was with his body or his money, Jimmy knew that the criminal king of Strassen Springs totally adored him.
The ring on his finger was further proof of that, he thought, glancing down and twisting it anxiously. Cold didn’t just want Jimmy to be his kept boy; he wanted him to be his husband and continue to build their life together.
