“For sleep,” Cold scolded fondly. He turned the record player off and herded Jimmy back into the bedroom.
Jimmy snuggled in bed next to his lover, throwing his legs over Cold’s and burrowing his head against his shoulder. He pulled the blankets up around them with a content sigh.
Cold curled around him and kissed his hair. “Good night, Jimmy.”
“Night, Rod,” Jimmy replied, his eyes sliding shut, “and thank you.”
“Mmm?” Cold grunted curiously.
“For being here for me,” Jimmy sighed as he drifted off back to sleep. “For loving me so much.”
“Always,” Cold promised. There was a short pause and Cold whispered, “I really do want to marry you, Jimmy.”
“Mmm, that’s so sweet... Still nope.”
“You’ll say yes.”
Jimmy hated how confident Cold sounded and he wanted to argue, but the next thing he knew he was waking up the next morning.
He had managed to get a few peaceful hours of rest before breakfast, but he was still dragging his feet as Jerry and Jules escorted him out to the limo. Cold waved farewell with a confident smile, although Jimmy was certain he was favoring the leg without the ankle monitor.
Perhaps he could get Cold some big fuzzy socks that would stretch comfortably over the device.
The thought made him smile even as his feet anxiously fidgeted on the drive to the police station. He knew he didn’t have anything to be nervous about, but he was grateful when he saw Christine waiting right out front for him.
“Good morning, Mr. Poe,” she greeted curtly, her eyes narrowing as she sized up Jules and Jerry. “You two, wait here.”
“I got orders to watch Twig,” Jules growled in reply.
“I can’t take Mr. Poe into a police station with an entourage of thugs. Stay put.”
“Thugs?” Jerry spat indignantly, clutching his chest. “Quelle chienne!”
“What he said!” Jules grunted angrily.
Christine ignored them, leaving them both behind as she led Jimmy inside the precinct. It was modern and clean, smelled like bleach, and every single person in uniform turned to stare at Jimmy as he walked in.
He wanted to shrink back and hide, but he held his head high. He was here with the most powerful lawyer in the city and married to its most powerful criminal. He didn’t want to get too cocky, but there was nothing anyone here could do to him. He’d done absolutely nothing wrong.
He could do this.
Confident now, he squashed his jitters down as he followed Christine into one of the interrogation rooms. There were two men waiting for them: Special Agent Richard Champignon, and another detective he hadn’t met before.
He introduced himself as Detective Davis, gesturing for Jimmy and Christine to have a seat.
“Fairly simple deal here, Mr. Poe,” Davis said, tapping at a stack of paperwork in front of Jimmy. “You confirm the statement submitted on your behalf by your lawyer and sign.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. By signing it, you’re confirming that everything there is correct and true. If something’s hinky, even the tiniest thing, let us know so we can correct it.”
Jimmy began to scan the document, reading over every word carefully.
“Shame about Mr. Waugh,” Champignon said casually. “He was just trying to do the right thing, you know?”
“Your commentary is not necessary,” Jimmy grumbled, losing his place in the statement. He kept his eyes trained on the paper before him and tried to pick up where he left off.
“That’s the second time you’ve seen someone die in front of you, isn’t it?” Champignon went on. “First, your mother and now Mr. Waugh. Oh, wait. Wasn’t there a third?”
