“This is what’s gonna happen,” Gary said with a smug smile. “You’re gonna walk outside, and I’m gonna be right behind you. Don’t you yell, don’t try to call for help, and don’t run.”
“Or else what?” Jimmy asked dumbly. He already knew the answer.
“Or the next time you see Cold, it’ll be when you’re up in heaven with him. Let’s go.”
Jimmy wanted the waitress to ask him what was wrong, silently pleading for anyone else to notice what was happening, but no one did. He stumbled out onto the sidewalk, flinching when he felt Gary behind him pressing the gun into his lower back.
They walked silently for a few yards, Jimmy desperately looking for any possible escape route. He could smell the thick smoke from the fire downtown, and he was so very nauseous.
His heart was aching to think that Cold was dead. It was not possible. It couldn’t be. Not when Jimmy had finally decided to accept his proposal and marry him—
“Night night, little prince,” Gary laughed, cracking the gun across the back of Jimmy’s head.
Sparks of light flashed before Jimmy’s eyes, the sky spun, and he sank into darkness. His last thoughts were of Cold, hoping that he was alive and well, and that he could tell him how much he loved him one last time.
When Jimmy started to come to, the first sensation that his body registered was pain. His skull was throbbing, particularly where Gary had hit him with the butt of the gun. He could tell he was lying down on a cold cement floor, his flip-flops were missing, and his hands were up above his head.
He tried to reach down to hold his aching head, but his wrists were bound. He immediately recognized the restraints as handcuffs, and at any other time, that would have been funny.
Right now, having them hooked around a pipe and placed there by a man who had kidnapped him was horrifying.
Panic began to set in, and Jimmy couldn’t breathe. His heart was pattering away in a cardiac arrest-inducing tempo, and he was afraid that he was going to pass out. His chest was too tight, he couldn’t get enough air, and tears were burning his eyes.
Breathe, Mr. Poe...
He heard Cold’s voice in his head, a familiar command, and tried to focus on it.
Breathe for me.
He took a breath, then another, letting the rumbling purr of his lover’s voice flood his anxious mind.
Good boy.
Jimmy blinked away his tears, still trembling but calmer now, trying to look around where he was being held. He couldn’t see much except for the angular outline of light that indicated a door. There was a row of small windows up above his head, but the light emanating from there was very dim, either from filth or screens covering the glass.
As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out a table, a few chairs, and some boxes. It smelled of mildew and moisture that reminded him of a basement. The tiny windows were probably street level, and he thought he could hear distant traffic.
Okay, he was possibly in a basement, but where? Was he still even in Strassen Springs?
With no way to know how long he’d been unconscious, it was hard to gauge how far Gary had been able to take him.
He must have had a car nearby, Jimmy reasoned. Gary couldn’t have carried him for long without someone noticing. In a car, they could be halfway across the damn state by now.
Jimmy slowly breathed through another rising wall of panic, and he flinched when he heard voices approaching.
“You are so fucking dumb!” a man with a gravelly tone was fussing. Jimmy didn’t know him. “If you weren’t my mother’s first cousin, I’d kill you myself!”
“What are you talking about?” Another man spoke, but this one Jimmy recognized as Gary. “I’ve just brought us the fucking ticket to the Gentlemen! Come on! They’ll do anything to get their little prince back!”
Jimmy heard the knob rattling and the clink of a key, hastily closing his eyes and turning his head away. The lights came on, something dim judging by the lack of glare against his lids.
It was obviously enough illumination for him to be recognized because Gravelly hissed, “Shit, it’s really him. You really grabbed Cold’s husband.”
“Sure did,” Gary said proudly. “Isn’t it fuckin’ great?”
“No, no, this is bad!” Gravelly argued. “You didn’t get permission from Luigi or Cristian to make a move like this! Just like the fucking car! Think before you fuckin’ act!”
“Come on, this was genius,” Gary scoffed. “Once the smoke clears, the Gentlemen will wanna deal. Their little prince for our guys!”
