“But Mr. Poe, your husband is facing life in prison. I can help—”
The door swung open and the man himself, Boss Cold, swept into the room. He was dressed to the nines, spats on his feet and death in his eyes. He took a deliberate step toward Blalock, and the man bolted right out of his seat.
Blalock plastered himself against the wall as if Cold might actually hit him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! We’re just holding him, that’s all! The DEA is holding everyone that was picked up!”
Cold scowled in disgust, looking over Blalock as if he were a lowly bug that he could squash without a second thought. He never moved beyond Jimmy’s chair, and his strong hand found the back of Jimmy’s neck. “Are you all right, Jimmy?”
“I’m fine,” Jimmy panted haggardly. He was unable to slow the pulsing of his heart or the flow of blood to other parts of his body to see Cold being so cocky. “What, what are you doing here?”
“Taking you home,” Cold said, his icy gaze still fixated on Blalock.
“Y-you’re supposed to be on house arrest,” Blalock managed to stammer.
“As per the terms of my bail, I’m allowed to leave with court approval,” Cold replied smoothly. “And wouldn’t you know it? Judge Del Rio was more than happy to acquiesce to my request.”
“When she heard what happened to Mr. Poe here, she couldn’t sign the order fast enough. You’ll be hearing from my office very soon, Mr. Blalock,” Christine Beccali’s equally cool voice called out, stepping in behind Cold. “Holding my client against his will? Harassment?”
“Trying to question me after I requested counsel?” Jimmy grumbled sourly.
“Mr. Poe and I were just having a friendly conversation while we worked out the exact nature of the incident,” Blalock said with a forced smile. He straightened himself up and tried to regain his composure. “Clearly, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Clearly,” Cold echoed, swiftly removing Jimmy’s handcuffs. He threw them on the table, took Jimmy’s arm, and strolled right out of the room. Christine followed behind them, and it was so quiet that Jimmy could hear every click of her heels.
No one tried to stop them. Every man and woman in that building could only stare as they watched Boss Cold, Roderick Legrand, take what was his and walk out of the police station like he owned every inch of it.
Fuck, Jimmy was so hard.
Outside, Cold opened the door of a slick black sedan and ushered him into the passenger seat. He looked back to Christine, asking her, “The others?”
“Jules didn’t get picked up,” Christine replied briskly. “Jerry will be released soon, and Maury might be facing an assault charge. He punched one of the DEA guys.”
“Make it go away.”
“You got it,” Christine said, reaching for her phone.
Cold got behind the wheel and began to drive off, tires squealing as he left the police station behind. He was staring straight ahead, focused on the road, but one of his hands moved to rest on Jimmy’s thigh. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine,” Jimmy insisted. “I just wanna go home. Look, I need to talk to you about Charlie.”
“What is it?”
“Maybe I’m being crazy,” Jimmy began carefully, “but I’m starting to think he’s—”
A black van suddenly slammed into the driver’s side of the car, glass shattering as they tipped over from the force of the collision. The car rocked and swayed on its roof, and the sound of horns blaring was the last thing Jimmy heard before he lost consciousness.
