by K. L. Hiers
All that mattered was marrying the man he loved.
“Thank you,” Jimmy said when a cup of coffee was set down in front of him. “I’m not really feeling that hungry, but...” He froze when the person who brought him the coffee sat down in front of him. “You!”
It was Gary Luchesi. He had a hand under the table, and he was smiling nastily as he said, “Better keep quiet. Got a piece down here, and it’s aimed right at you.”
Jimmy gulped, glancing around the diner anxiously. There had to be someone, anyone that could see he was in trouble and desperately needed help. No one even batted an eye in his direction.
“What are the odds?” Gary chuckled. “Things were getting a little hot downtown, and I took myself for a little walk. Imagine my surprise when I came strolling by and happened to see your pretty little mug hanging out here! The little prince himself! And awww, look, all alone.”
Cheeks heating up, Jimmy snarled quietly, “Cold is coming for me. He’ll be here any minute—”
“Now I know that’s bullshit.” Gary smirked horribly. “See, I happen to know for a fact that Cold is dead.”
“What?” Jimmy’s heart broke. “No...”
“He’s fucking dead, and you’re coming with me. Right now.”
Chapter Sixteen
“No!” Jimmy jumped to his feet, shaking all over in anguish and fear. He jerked his head, defiantly hissing, “There’s no way he’s dead! You’re lying!”
“Am I?” Gary challenged, sliding his legs out from beneath the booth and offering Jimmy a peek at the gun in his hand. “You know, ‘cause this right here says I’m telling the fucking truth.”
Jimmy wanted to scream, cry for help, but he couldn’t look away from the gun. His skin was buzzing with an insane surge of adrenaline, the sensation so intense that he honestly didn’t think his feet were touching the floor.
Cold couldn’t be dead. No, he couldn’t be. Gary was a liar. It had to be bullshit. It was total bullshit. If Cold was dead, those men wouldn’t have come to the house looking for him. None of this was real.
Except that gun.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” Gary said with a smug smile. “You’re gonna walk outside, and I’m gonna be right behind you. Don’t you yell, don’t try to call for help, and don’t run.”
“Or else what?” Jimmy asked dumbly. He already knew the answer.
“Or the next time you see Cold, it’ll be when you’re up in heaven with him. Let’s go.”
Jimmy wanted the waitress to ask him what was wrong, silently pleading for anyone else to notice what was happening, but no one did. He stumbled out onto the sidewalk, flinching when he felt Gary behind him pressing the gun into his lower back.
They walked silently for a few yards, Jimmy desperately looking for any possible escape route. He could smell the thick smoke from the fire downtown, and he was so very nauseous.
His heart was aching to think that Cold was dead. It was not possible. It couldn’t be. Not when Jimmy had finally decided to accept his proposal and marry him—
“Night night, little prince,” Gary laughed, cracking the gun across the back of Jimmy’s head.
Sparks of light flashed before Jimmy’s eyes, the sky spun, and he sank into darkness. His last thoughts were of Cold, hoping that he was alive and well, and that he could tell him how much he loved him one last time.
When Jimmy started to come to, the first sensation that his body registered was pain. His skull was throbbing, particularly where Gary had hit him with the butt of the gun. He could tell he was lying down on a cold cement floor, his flip-flops were missing, and his hands were up above his head.
He tried to reach down to hold his aching head, but his wrists were bound. He immediately recognized the restraints as handcuffs, and at any other time, that would have been funny.
Right now, having them hooked around a pipe and placed there by a man who had kidnapped him was horrifying.
Panic began to set in, and Jimmy couldn’t breathe. His heart was pattering away in a cardiac arrest-inducing tempo, and he was afraid that he was going to pass out. His chest was too tight, he couldn’t get enough air, and tears were burning his eyes.
Breathe, Mr. Poe...
He heard Cold’s voice in his head, a familiar command, and tried to focus on it.
Breathe for me.
He took a breath, then another, letting the rumbling purr of his lover’s voice flood his anxious mind.
Good boy.
Jimmy blinked away his tears, still trembling but calmer now, trying to look around where he was being held. He couldn’t see much except for the angular outline of light that indicated a door. There was a row of small windows up above his head, but the light emanating from there was very dim, either from filth or screens covering the glass.
As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out a table, a few chairs, and some boxes. It smelled of mildew and moisture that reminded him of a basement. The tiny windows were probably street level, and he thought he could hear distant traffic.
Okay, he was possibly in a basement, but where? Was he still even in Strassen Springs?
With no way to know how long he’d been unconscious, it was hard to gauge how far Gary had been able to take him.
He must have had a car nearby, Jimmy reasoned. Gary couldn’t have carried him for long without someone noticing. In a car, they could be halfway across the damn state by now.
Jimmy slowly breathed through another rising wall of panic, and he flinched when he heard voices approaching.
“You are so fucking dumb!” a man with a gravelly tone was fussing. Jimmy didn’t know him. “If you weren’t my mother’s first cousin, I’d kill you myself!”
“What are you talking about?” Another man spoke, but this one Jimmy recognized as Gary. “I’ve just brought us the fucking ticket to the Gentlemen! Come on! They’ll do anything to get their little prince back!”
Jimmy heard the knob rattling and the clink of a key, hastily closing his eyes and turning his head away. The lights came on, something dim judging by the lack of glare against his lids.
It was obviously enough illumination for him to be recognized because Gravelly hissed, “Shit, it’s really him. You really grabbed Cold’s husband.”
“Sure did,” Gary said proudly. “Isn’t it fuckin’ great?”
“No, no, this is bad!” Gravelly argued. “You didn’t get permission from Luigi or Cristian to make a move like this! Just like the fucking car! Think before you fuckin’ act!”
“Come on, this was genius,” Gary scoffed. “Once the smoke clears, the Gentlemen will wanna deal. Their little prince for our guys!”
“First of all, our guys are all probably dead. I ain’t heard shit from anybody at the hotel, and nobody made it back from the house. Second of all, you dumb fuckin’ idiot, there’s already a million dollar reward out for the safe return of said little prince at any cost.”
Jimmy’s heart fluttered. Cold had to be alive. He had to be the one that put out the reward, but wait; what did ‘at any cost’ mean?
As if reading his thoughts, Gary asked, “At any cost? Huh? What the fuck?”
“This is why I came down here,” Gravelly pleaded. “I’m trying to talk some sense into you! Cold has lifted the blood ban. Anybody can whack fuckin’ anybody as long as the whackin’ is done against our family and our people.”
Cold!
Yes, he was alive!
“Still not following,” Gary pouted.
“Meaning that every fucking hustler, gangbanger, and crook in this city is gonna be hunting them some Italian tonight to make a million bucks, okay? We are all fucked. We gotta get outta the city, and you gotta give the prince back if you wanna make it out of here alive.”
“No fucking way!” Gary snarled angrily. “What about justice, huh? What about Vincenzo? What about poor Marco? We’re just gonna tuck tail and run?”
“Fuck, yes! Wake the fuck up! You think the cops aren’t gonna try and get
a piece of that million dollar pie, too? Come on!”
“No! I’m gonna call Luigi and Cristian myself. The Gentlemen are gonna wanna deal, and we’ll fuckin’ lure that prick Cold down here and kill ‘im!”
“Staying here is suicide!”
“Fuck off, you coward!”
“Nice knowin’ you!” Gravelly’s voice was fading as if he was walking away. “You’re so stupid...”
“Come on!” Gary barked back, following after Gravelly. “You want some of the glory, you gotta...”
When Jimmy couldn’t hear them anymore, he opened his eyes to look around. The light was on, and the door was still open. He could try to escape!
He looked up, seeing that the cuffs were hooked around a long pipe that ran from the floor to the ceiling. Judging by the sound of the chains rattling, the pipe was metal and it was too big to break.
He was still going to try.
Sliding the cuffs up the pipe, he dragged himself up into a sitting position to get some leverage and pulled as hard as he could. The cuffs cut into his wrist, and the pipe didn’t budge. The cuffs were too tight to slip, and he was more afraid than he had ever been. He could die down here.
What if Cold couldn’t find him?
What if Gary got the rest of the Luchesis here, and they decided just to kill him?
Jimmy yanked on the cuffs even harder, starting to pant desperately. He felt the ring on his finger, making a fist and trying to focus on the sensation of it digging into his skin. He had to believe that this wasn’t the end.
Not yet.
“Sounds like somebody is awake!” Gary cackled as he came strolling back into the room. He was alone now, crouching down in front of Jimmy with his phone.
Jimmy glared furiously, gritting his teeth together and refusing to speak. He drew in his legs and tried to cram himself as far into the corner as he could.
“Smile.” Gary grinned, the flash on his phone going off as he took several pictures. “Gotta make sure we get that pretty mug to show Cold I mean serious fuckin’ business.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, right,” Gary chuckled, standing back up. “Cold isn’t actually dead. I lied to you. I do that, you know. But hey, it’s been a crazy night. Still could be dead. If the feds haven’t got him yet, maybe one of my guys did!”
Jimmy looked away and sniffed stubbornly. He tried to stay focused on his breathing, rubbing his thumb against the underside of the ring. It was a beacon of hope, a symbol of the future he and Cold were going to have because they would both survive this hellish night.
“Fuck, you know, I can see why Cold likes you,” Gary said, reaching down to ruffle Jimmy’s hair and rub his cheek. “You’re kinda pretty.”
“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.
“See?” Gary was saying, gesturing to Jimmy. “All wrapped up like a Christmas present.”
The shorter of the two suited men turned around and slapped Gary across his face, cursing at him in a long stream of Italian.
The taller man held out his hand, demanding, “Key.”
Gary rubbed his red cheek, sullenly reaching into his pocket and handing him a small key.
“My apologies, Mr. Poe,” the taller man said, crouching down to unlock Jimmy’s cuffs. “This is not the proper treatment for someone of your standing. I would have prevented it, had I known sooner.”
Jimmy jerked his hands away as soon as they were free, rubbing his aching wrists and backing himself into a corner. He stared the man down, wild and frantic, trying to keep his breathing in check.
“I’m Cristian Luchesi,” the man went on. “That’s my brother, Luigi. We’ve already contacted Boss Cold and made arrangements for your release. Again, my sincere apologies—”
“Fuck your apologies,” Jimmy spat. “You don’t just kidnap someone and beat the crap out of them and then get to apologize your way out of it!”
Luigi muttered something in Italian, and Cristian shook his head. He looked back to Jimmy, soothing, “There will be severe repercussions for Gary’s actions today. That I can assure you.”
“But I was trying—” Gary began.
Luigi screeched and slapped him again, growling fiercely, “Not another word! Not a one!”
“Luigi,” Cristian said calmly, “why don’t you go upstairs and wait for our guests?”
Luigi was obviously stung by the command, giving Gary one more nasty slap before stomping outside.
Gary cowered against the wall, cradling his face and falling silent.
Cristian pulled a chair over to Jimmy, gesturing for him to sit. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it with a small smile. “Here.”
