“But... Rod?” Jimmy was frozen in place by a sliver of fear that bound his feet to the floor. Even though he wanted to follow, his body refused to listen. He started to pant, his chest tight, and he was feeling faint.
He’d felt so good all morning, and the sudden terror of not knowing what was going on was making him panic. He was instantly being transported to the night of the hotel fire when he didn’t know if Cold was alive or dead.
He could feel the cold grip of the cuffs around his wrists, and he thought he was going to throw up. He tried to look around the room and convince himself that he was home, he was somewhere safe, but it wasn’t helping when he could all too easily remember bullets whizzing over his head out by the pool.
“Jimmy?” Cold stopped immediately, turning back to him. “Jimmy, what’s wrong?”
“I’m... I’m...” Jimmy shook his head, unable to articulate a single thought. He could feel tears burning his eyes, and he gasped sharply.
“Breathe,” Cold commanded firmly, moving back to Jimmy’s side and laying a strong hand on the back of his neck.
Jimmy inhaled, ragged, aching, but kept going. He focused on Cold’s hand, its warmth, and the familiar way it curled around his neck. He nodded weakly, and his breaths started to slow.
“Whoever is here will not harm you,” Cold promised with a dangerous edge to his tone. “You’re safe here with me.”
Gulping, Jimmy tried not to think about the implications of that statement. He could see the pearl of Cold’s guns glinting beneath his jacket in their holsters. He expected for his panic to increase, but he felt weirdly calm.
Cold would keep him safe, that was without question. Jimmy knew the lengths he would go to.
The thought was an unexpected balm to his anxiety, soothing it away until he could finally speak. “Yes. Y-yes, I know. I’m okay.”
Cold kissed his forehead, and his attention was drawn to the doorway when quick footsteps started coming down the hall.
Jerry was there, saying something urgent in French. He looked angry, and Jimmy didn’t think he had seen Jerry so frazzled before.
“Perfect.” Cold smiled like a cat who had just caught a mouse. He gave Jimmy’s neck a gentle squeeze. “Put our guest in the lounge. I’ll be right there.”
“Please don’t go,” Jimmy said, reaching up to hold Cold’s wrist.
“Jimmy,” Cold warned. “This is business.”
“Who’s here? I don’t care! I just, I really don’t want you to go!” Jimmy pleaded. He would get on his knees if he had to. He was still trembling and ready to come flying off the sofa. “Please.”
“Monsieur?” Jerry asked quietly.
Tilting his head for a thoughtful moment, Cold finally replied, “Show him in.” His thumb traced the hair along the nape of Jimmy’s neck. “As for you... Mr. Poe?”
Jimmy shivered, his frantic thoughts quieting. He took a deep breath as he gazed up at Cold. “Yes, sir?”
“You want to be a good boy for me, don’t you?” Cold was as smooth as silk, patiently waiting for Jimmy’s breathing to slow. “Now, all you have to do is sit with me and be silent. Can you do that, Mr. Poe?”
“Yes, sir,” Jimmy replied, letting himself slip into a submissive haze. He felt safe, his worries fading, and he settled back down obediently on the couch. He could do this.
This was easy. All he had to do was be quiet, and he would be a good boy for Cold.
There was a scrambling of footsteps, and Stephen Blalock came bursting into the room. His hair was a mess, his suit disheveled, and his eyes were about to pop out of his head.
Jerry was right behind him, clearing his throat as he announced, “MonsieurBlalock is here to see you.”
“Hello,” Cold said, smiling casually as he sat back down next to Jimmy. He kept his hand on Jimmy’s neck, petting him gently as he asked, “What an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Blalock.”
“You set me up, you son of a bitch!” Blalock screamed frantically. “That bullshit at the prison? Do you have any idea how hard that was to make go away? And you just couldn’t stop! You just couldn’t fucking stop!”
Cold remained seated, cool as ever, picking up his newspaper and glancing over the front page. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The phone recordings I gave to Champignon, you set it up to make it look like I got them from you! And the Luchesis found out!”
“Well,” Cold said smugly, “you are working with them, aren’t you?”
