by K. L. Hiers
“Uh, duh? Good thing I’m not as stupid as you are ugly!” Rowena bit back. “For fuck’s sake! If Roddy did it, good! I’m glad! Marco was a raping piece of shit! They shouldn’t be arresting Roddy, they should be thanking him!”
“He could have a case for a crime of passion, voluntary manslaughter, depending on the circumstances,” Jimmy offered. “Without knowing what evidence they have, it’s hard to say.”
Rowena drowned a few curses with another shot.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked her, his brow furrowing in concern. The last time Rowena was drinking like this was because she’d killed Dickie White.
“I’m just peachy,” Rowena said with forced sweetness. She took Jimmy’s hand and squeezed it hard. “What about you? Are you okay, sweetie?”
Struggling to find the right words, Jimmy sighed heavily. “I don’t know what I am right now. Scared. Worried. I know Rod is smart, but...”
“But this is a huge fucking mess,” Rowena finished his thought for him.
“How did they find the body?” Jimmy asked, glancing warily at Jules and Jerry. “If he was killed, in theory, around the time Don Luchesi was murdered, that would have been nineteen years ago.”
Jules said nothing while Jerry found a spot on the floor very interesting.
“Ha!” Rowena bared her teeth. “It’s all because of the stupid construction! The mayor’s bullshit plan to fix up the city!”
Jimmy’s heart sank.
“They had to do something with the pipes across the street and oops, found a body down in the damn foundation!”
“Across the street from here? The old deli?”
“Yup.”
“Holy shit,” Jimmy mumbled. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Cold had stashed a body so close to one of his own properties. He’d want it somewhere that he could keep an eye on it.
“It’s all over the news,” Rowena said with a miserable sneer. “They’re saying they found it a few months ago, but they were waiting on like, dental records or something to identify the body.”
“Ugh.” Jimmy grimaced. “Well, wait. If the body is that badly decomposed, how did they link it to Cold?”
“You two need to quit yappin’,” Jules warned. “Cold’s already got it all planned out. It’s gonna be fuckin’ fine.”
Jimmy really wanted to believe him.
“Hey!” Theodore Pym, another of Cold’s Gentlemen, came rushing in from the back of the club near the stage. He was carrying a garment bag with him. “There’s fuckin’ press everywhere! I almost got jumped by some douche with a camera back there!”
“You all right?” Jules asked. “You didn’t fuck him up, did you? We gotta keep our shit together. No more fuckin’ arrests!”
“Nah! Just broke his camera,” Pym scoffed, fumbling to adjust his glasses. “Stupid fuck.” He looked to Jimmy, saying, “I got word from Face Fucker. She wants Jimmy to go with her to see Cold.”
“Has he even been processed by now?” Jimmy blinked.
“I don’t fuckin’ know!” Pym threw his hands up. “I’m just the messenger!”
“I’m going, too!” Rowena declared, already stepping out from behind the bar. “I’m gonna give my brother a freakin’ piece of my mind—”
“No can do,” Pym cut in. “It’s a meeting for counsel only.”
“Counsel?” Jimmy stared, protesting, “But I’m not a lawyer!”
“Congrats!” Pym snorted, pushing the garment bag into Jimmy’s arms. “You just got an internship with Face Fucker’s law firm.”
“Beccali and Beccali?” Jimmy couldn’t help how his jaw dropped. Beccali and Beccali was the most powerful law firm in all of Strassen Springs, and Christine Beccali in particular was known for being a very fierce attorney.
Her unusual nickname came from an encounter in court where she’d threatened to fuck the prosecutor’s face with a concrete dildo for badgering her witness. She was reprimanded and never again used such language in front of a judge, but the name had stuck.
“Oh, that’s a bunch of horseshit!” Rowena snarled angrily. “Come on!”
“Can’t help it, Rowena,” Pym said, waving at Jimmy to get dressed. “I would make it quick. Trust me, you don’t wanna keep Face Fucker waiting.”
Jimmy hurried back into his dressing room to get changed, hanging up the garment bag and unzipping it. His head was absolutely spinning and worry was chewing away at his guts.
Cold could easily be sentenced to life in prison for this.
Jimmy couldn’t imagine living without Cold for a second, and the thought was making his chest ache. He took a deep breath, throwing on the sharp black suit he found in the garment bag.
Meeting Cold’s lawyer would be good. He could finally find out what the hell was going on with the case and how much trouble Cold was actually in.
Once Jimmy was dressed and ready, Jules snuck him out the back entrance of the club where Jerry had pulled the limo around. There were only a handful of reporters waiting there, and they managed to leave without much trouble.
Pym stayed back at the club to keep Rowena there. She was still furious and made sure to tell Jimmy to pass along all of her threats of bodily harm to her brother.
The drive to Westchester Prison gave Jimmy the strangest sensation of déjà vu. The last time he’d been there was when he and Cold had come to pick up his father. Now Jimmy was back to see Cold.
He hated it.
Jimmy knew exactly where to go, Jules and Jerry following him into the lobby. There was a petite blonde in a blue pantsuit waiting for him, toting a familiar-looking briefcase and a razor-sharp smile.
“I’m Christine Beccali,” she said, briskly shaking Jimmy’s hand, “Roderick’s personal attorney.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jimmy said with a weak smile. “Thank you for the, uh, job?”
Christine smirked. “Of course. Congratulations on making the dean’s list. A bright law student like you has quite the future ahead of him.” She motioned for Jimmy to follow her, flashing an identification badge to the prison guard at the security desk. “He’s with me. James Poe. He’s my new intern.”
“All right, Miss Beccali. You know the drill. Any weapons? Drugs?” the guard asked, lazily patting her down.
“No, sir,” Christine replied sweetly. “Did you get my flowers? How’s your wife doing?”
“Yes, thank you!” The guard grinned and gave Jimmy an equally slothful search. “Her and the baby are doing great!”
“You need anything, call my office!” Christine said, batting her eyes and whisking Jimmy to the counsel rooms. Her sweet facade fell away the moment the door closed, replaced by an icy mask that eerily reminded him of Cold’s.
Jimmy sat down at the table with her, asking carefully, “So. How bad is it?”
“First-degree murder,” she replied calmly. “Prosecution is pushing for life. They’d go for the death penalty if it was allowed in this state.”
“Evidence?”
“DNA on the murder weapon that the medical examiner pulled out of the victim’s skull is a match to Roderick’s. It’s already on file from his previous incarceration. They also have an eyewitness statement that places Roderick leaving with the victim hours before he was reported missing by his wife.”
Jimmy thought he was going to be sick. He sank back in the chair, whispering quietly, “Motive?”
“At least three more witnesses that will claim Roderick had a romantic relationship with the victim prior to his death.”
“Romantic?” Jimmy spat in disgust.
“They’re going to paint a very nasty picture of Roderick,” Christine said, holding up her finger for silence. “They’re going to say he’s a heartless criminal deviant who was preying on a very sexually confused young man who was already happily married to a woman.”
Jimmy bit the blood out of his lip to keep himself from cursing.
“The evidence is not good, but there’s hope.”
“How?”
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“The eyewitness statement in particular,” Christine said, opening up the briefcase and fishing out a folder.
Jimmy recognized the briefcase now as Cold’s own. Inside was an assortment of paperwork and Cold’s ledgers, the foundation of his criminal empire. Jimmy was surprised to see it with Christine, realizing that Cold must trust this woman very much for her to have them in her possession.
“It’s been heavily redacted, and there are at least a dozen areas that have been marked as unintelligible,” Christine went on, handing the folder to Jimmy. “Considering the original recording is marked as being twenty-six minutes long and there’s only about nine minutes of spoken word in that transcript, I’d say they’re hiding something.”
Jimmy flipped through the pages and was stunned when he realized he recognized the witness’ name.
Francis Von Valdemar III.
“Thirdsies?” Jimmy murmured.
“Yes,” Christine said, drumming her fingers on the edge of the table. “He was thirteen at the time, questioned without his grandfather’s presence, and I’m certain he was forced to give that statement. Both of the cops that questioned him have black marks on their records for abusing witnesses.”
“Okay, that’s good,” Jimmy said with a nod. “I mean, not that it’s good for Thirdsies for that to have happened, but good for the case.” He scanned over the rest of the transcript and frowned.
It was damning.
Thirdsies said that he saw Marco Luchesi, obviously wounded and beaten, leaving with Cold and Rufus Corman.
“Corman being deceased, our only option would be to find the original recording and get Thirdsies to recant his statement,” Jimmy said, rubbing his hands over his face. “Maybe we could settle it in deposition and get it thrown out?”
“You’re a quick study, Mr. Poe,” Christine said with a small smile. “That’s my goal. Thirdsies is safe from the feds for now, but he can be made available to us when we need him.”
“What else is there?” Jimmy asked.
“That’s it for now,” Christine replied curtly, “but there will be more. SSPD has been trying to put Roderick away for years. They thought they had him with Dickie White, but that didn’t exactly work out for them.
“It’s why they called in the feds to assist with the case. They’re determined to make these charges stick and put him away once and for all.”
“Do you think it’ll go to trial?” Jimmy asked anxiously.
“Hard to say,” Christine said, her lips drawn back into a thin line. “The DNA evidence is the cornerstone of their case right now, and it will be difficult to refute. Thirdsies’ statement can probably be dealt with, but then there are the other witnesses who are willing to testify against Roderick and the nature of his relationship with Marco.”
“That’s such bullshit,” Jimmy hissed. “Isn’t there anything we can do to show that Marco was a predator and not a victim?”
“All of the Gentlemen would certainly testify to the abuse, but what we really need are other victims to come forward. At this time, there are none living.”
“Shit.” Jimmy fidgeted, glancing up at Christine’s calm expression. “Aren’t you worried?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Roderick isn’t worried,” she replied simply.
Jimmy didn’t like that answer, turning his head when he heard the door open. He jumped to his feet, and his pulse fluttered wildly as two guards brought Cold in. The very sight of his lover made his knees weak and his heart swell.
Cold seemed relaxed and somehow managed to make even a neon orange jumpsuit and shackles attractive. Jimmy swore that it was freshly pressed and had to resist the urge to leap right into Cold’s arms.
“Hello,” Cold said with a wink. “Fancy meeting you two here.”
The guards unlocked Cold’s restraints and left, shutting the door behind them.
The sound was like a gun firing at a race, and Jimmy took off the second he heard it to wrap himself around Cold as tightly as he could. “Rod! Oh, Rod! I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cold soothed, petting the back of Jimmy’s neck and holding him at the base of his spine. He kissed him firmly and smirked when Christine loudly cleared her throat. “Yes, counselor?”
“I’ve already gone over the known evidence that you got from Detective Duplin with Jimmy,” Christine said. “So, he’s all caught up.”
“You got all of this from Augustus?” Jimmy scoffed in surprise. “He’s the jerk who arrested you!”
“He’s also the jerk that I have enough on to put him right here with me if I so choose,” Cold reminded him.
“I didn’t hear that,” Christine interjected.
“No, you certainly did not,” Cold confirmed with another smirk.
“How are we pleading?” Jimmy asked earnestly, still holding onto Cold as if someone might come take him away again. “Is the arraignment tomorrow?”
“Let Miss Beccali and me worry about that,” Cold said, his eyes cutting over to her. “You have a phone call to take.”
“Oh, so I do.” Christine closed up the briefcase and tucked it under her arm without question.
Jimmy blinked in confusion. He certainly hadn’t heard Christine’s phone ring and watched her obediently leave with a frown. “What was that about?”
“To get you alone,” Cold purred, his hands dipping inside Jimmy’s jacket and starting to untuck his shirt. “You do look so positively delicious in this suit...”
“Rod!” Jimmy gasped, totally scandalized. Cold’s fingers against his bare skin made him shiver, and he whined in protest, “We should be working on your defense!”
“You once told me you only wanted to represent innocent clients,” Cold chuckled as he worked on Jimmy’s belt next. “Why don’t you let Miss Beccali worry about my defense, hmmm?”
“Because you clearly are not worried enough!” Jimmy growled, hating how his traitorous cock began to get hard.
“Jimmy,” Cold lightly scolded. “You really need to learn to trust me.”
“Do you have any idea what it was like watching Augustus take you away today?” Jimmy snapped. He held his head high and pulled away from Cold defiantly. “How freakin’ scared I was? You could have told me what was going to happen and you didn’t! You kept all of this from me!”
“Do not question my plan,” Cold warned. He sat down at the table, making himself comfortable as if they were lounging back home. “There is a reason behind everything—”
“How about sharing those reasons with me?” Jimmy demanded impatiently. “I get the marriage was to protect me from being subpoenaed against you since you somehow knew you were going to get arrested. But did you ever think you could have just told me that? Or maybe have proposed like a normal person?”
“I couldn’t be sure you would have agreed.”
“I love you!” Jimmy shouted angrily. “In spite of all of your bullshit, I love you!”
“But do you love me enough to stand by me?” Cold narrowed his eyes, a sliver of something almost like vulnerability flickering over his face. “There is always a chance, however small, that my plan may fail.”
“Rod,” Jimmy sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair, “even if you went to prison, I would still be with you. And if you don’t believe me now, then I guess you never will.” He held out his hands defeatedly. “I’m yours. Always. I don’t know what else I can say...”
There was a long moment of silence and then Cold said something Jimmy never thought he’d hear twice:
“I love you.”
“What?” Jimmy didn’t think he’d heard him correctly.
“I love you, Jimmy. And I’m sorry. My very efforts to protect you are hurting you,” Cold said. “That is not my intention. You’re everything to me. Even if you end up hating me for what I’ve done and the things I will do in the future, I know that you’ll be safe.”
“You’re such a fuckin’ dick,” Ji
mmy griped, despite the warmth flooding his chest to hear such honesty. He let Cold take his hand, aching to feel his touch again. “Like, the biggest asshole ever.”
Cold pulled Jimmy in close between his legs. He kissed Jimmy’s hand, pressing it to his own cheek as he said softly, “I know.”
Jimmy was honestly touched by the sweet sentiments, but he refused to completely give in yet. “I’m still mad at you for keeping this from me, and I’m still not going to marry you.”
“But we’re already—”
“You know what I mean!” Jimmy snorted. “You haven’t even proposed yet, and now you’re in freakin’ jail! And you just had to pick the worst wedding planner ever by the way! That guy is a nightmare!”
“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Cold chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “He’s very passionate about his work.”
“Ugh. We can worry about the stupid wedding later. I should let Christine come back in here so we can actually talk about the case.”
“Not yet,” Cold said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not done with you,” Cold replied, suddenly grabbing Jimmy by his hips and heaving him up on the edge of the table. He licked his lips hungrily. “And I don’t plan to be for quite some time, Mr. Poe.”
Chapter Four
That name did something to Jimmy.
Mr. Poe.
In Cold’s velvety tones, it was a powerful switch that made him ache and sweat. It sent the most sensual sparks all throughout his brain, and his thoughts glazed over with lust. Every tense muscle in his body relaxed, and he had to use his hands to catch himself on the table.
Cold was out of his chair in a strong, fluid motion and pushed himself firmly between Jimmy’s thighs. His eyes were dark as he ordered, “Pull out your cock, Mr. Poe. Let me see it.”
Whimpering quietly, Jimmy scrambled to get his pants and underwear out of the way and present himself for Cold.
“Already so hard,” Cold chuckled, very pleased to see his swollen length.
“Yes, sir.” Jimmy flushed with shame as he glanced to the door. “We shouldn’t...”
