“Don’t you fucking touch me!” Jimmy spat hysterically, twisting his body away from Gary as much as possible. He had already pinned himself into the corner and had nowhere else to go, frantically swinging his foot out.
He kicked at Gary with all of his might, deeply satisfied when one of his feet made solid contact with Gary’s knee. He wished he had on steel-toed boots instead of being barefoot, but watching Gary stumble back was still satisfying.
“You little bitch!” Gary spat, backing away and cursing. He stood at a safe distance, glaring down at Jimmy. He rubbed his knee, starting to laugh, “Ha! And fuckin’ feisty, too!”
Jimmy’s skin felt slimy where Gary had touched him, and he tried to wipe off his cheek on his shoulder. He hated how helpless he felt, and the horrifying reality that Gary could do whatever he wanted right now made him sick.
And afraid.
“Is it true he likes to whip you and shit?” Gary asked with a lecherous smile. “Always heard you gays were into some kinky shit. And fuck, Cold is like the king fruit of them all.”
Blood boiling, Jimmy kept his teeth firmly together. He was not about to dignify such a vile question with any kind of a response. He hated how Gary was looking at him, well aware that his beady little eyes were tracking the full length of his legs.
“How ‘bout it, prince?” Gary taunted. “You like Cold beating on you? You like getting all fucked up?”
Jimmy felt hot and sick, hating how a lousy creep like Gary was perverting the unique relationship he shared with Cold. What they had together was far from the realm of conventional, but it was special. It was beautiful.
Cold made him feel safe and gave him a purpose, the fulfillment of which was without compare. It wasn’t about whips and chains, it was about trust and love, and Jimmy was suddenly consumed with the urge to pluck out Gary’s eyes with his bare fingers.
“Ah, well,” Gary snorted in reply to Jimmy’s stubborn silence. “How about you just hang out here for a bit and think about what you wanna say to Cold? I’m a decent guy, I’ll let you say goodbye before he dies.”
“Cold is going to kill you,” Jimmy snapped, baring his teeth angrily. “He’s smarter than your entire miserable family all put together. He will find me, he will save me, and then he will kill all of you.”
“Is this the part where you start telling me that if I let you go, you’ll ask Boss Cold to spare my life?” Gary drawled sarcastically.
“No.” Jimmy slid the handcuffs up the pipe and managed to pull himself up on his knees, eyeing Gary. “I know exactly what kind of man my husband is. He would not spare you even if I begged... and you know, I honestly don’t even think I’m gonna care. I might actually enjoy watching you die!”
“Fuck you,” Gary snarled, stomping across the room and punching Jimmy across his mouth. “You’re dead! You and that cock-gobbling bastard are both fucking dead! The Gentlemen’s fuckin’ time is over!”
Jimmy cried out as his head snapped back from the blow, slumping against the floor and panting hard. He could taste blood, certain his lips had been split. He grunted in pain as Gary kicked his chest and his stomach, and he tried to bring his legs up to shield himself from further blows.
Gary pivoted and kicked Jimmy right in his face, busting his nose and sneering, “Not so pretty now, are you?”
Jimmy could feel blood now gushing from his nose and down over his mouth, coughing weakly. He didn’t know if his nose was broken or not, but it hurt like hell, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from watering.
He summoned up his strength, licking the blood off his lips and spitting at Gary. He missed him by a mile, but stubbornly growled, “Fuck... you!”
“Get fucked, little prince,” Gary grunted, slamming the door on his way out. There was a distinct click of the lock snapping into place.
Jimmy lay on the floor for a few miserable moments, sniffing back blood and tears. His nose and mouth were both throbbing, and his ribs didn’t feel so great. The back of his head still hurt, and he couldn’t decide what was the worst.
His nose, he finally settled on. Definitely his nose.
Jimmy groaned as he pulled himself back up into a sitting position. It was awkward with his hands still cuffed to the pipe, but he could lean back against the wall and try to plot his escape.
Even if he could get the cuffs off, there was nowhere to go. The door was locked, and the windows were too high. He could probably climb on one of the chairs to reach them, but then he wasn’t sure if he would be able to fit through because they were so small.
He was confident Gary had taken his phone, too. He didn’t feel it in his pocket, and he wouldn’t have been able to get it out anyway. He was totally screwed.
All he could do was wait.
Jimmy tried to stay strong and hold onto his anger, but as the time ticked by he began to fall into despair. The fear of dying down in this dank basement was very real, and the pain was making it hard to focus. When he cried, it made his nose ache, and it hurt so terribly.
When he heard voices and the lock clicking again, he immediately tensed up. He hoped and prayed that it was Cold, his heart sinking when he saw Gary bringing in two dark-haired men in sharp suits.
They looked eerily familiar, but Jimmy couldn’t quite place them. They were both well-groomed and reeked of danger. Jimmy assumed they were Luigi and Cristian Luchesi, the current heads of the Luchesi family.
Out in the hallway were more men, at least three, big and rough, their bulk straining against the fabric of their suits. They remained in the hallway as Gary shut the door behind them.
