Page 83 of Cold Hard Cash

Jimmy’s eyes widened, terror making his blood freeze and his breath catch. “Wait. What?”

The gun fired.

Chapter Seventeen

“Get down!” Dario screamed, grabbing Jimmy and slamming him to the floor.

Jimmy felt white-hot pain burning his arm and grunted when Dario landed right on top of him. With his ears ringing from the gunshot being in such close proximity, the world spun around him in a violent blur.

There was another shot, and Jimmy thought that was it. Vincenzo had killed him. He could feel something hot oozing down his neck. He could smell blood. He thought it was his own and grit his teeth together, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

He thought of Cold in those moments; his velvety voice purring in his ear, his rare smile that made Jimmy’s heart skip a beat, and those icy blue eyes that melted his very soul. He wished Cold was here. He wanted to see him one last time.

No, not Cold.

Rod.

Another shot nearly shattered Jimmy’s eardrums for how close it was, and there was a loud thump in front of him. His eyes fluttered open to see Vincenzo Luchesi spread out on the floor next to him. There was blood pouring out of his mouth, and his eyes were lifeless pools.

He was dead.

“Oh, Christ,” Jimmy gasped.

Dario shouted, rolling off Jimmy as they both scrambled to back away from the corpse. Jimmy felt sick, trying to move, trying to get up.

Jules stood over them, his gun in hand, face terribly concerned. He reached for Jimmy, and he was saying something. He’d shot Vincenzo. He killed him.

Holy shit, Jules killed him.

Jimmy couldn’t breathe, and he had no idea whose blood was all over him. It couldn’t all be his own. He could hear Dario and Jules talking, but they seemed so far away. He couldn’t make much out over the ringing in his ears anyway.

Jules grabbed his shoulder to help him up, but Jimmy’s legs wouldn’t work. They were too wobbly, too weak, and he panted erratically as he pushed Jules’ hands away. He couldn’t believe how much blood there was. His eyes rolled back in his head and then he was swallowed up by darkness.

The faint beeping of medical monitors greeted Jimmy when he woke up with a soft groan. His right arm felt tingly and sore, his head heavy with the weight of drugs. He tried to move, but his wrist was trapped by something.

Blinking open his eyes, he stared blearily down to find he was handcuffed to the bed rail. He was in a hospital, Strassen Springs General if he had to guess. His right upper arm was bandaged tight, and he was wearing one of those ridiculous gowns that didn’t allow for a shred of dignity when the wearer was not lying down. At least all the blood was gone now.

“Hey,” croaked a soft voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Jimmy turned to see that the second bed in the room was occupied by Dario. “Hey!”

“You’ve been out for like an hour,” Dario said, frowning. “They doped you up pretty good.”

Jimmy tugged forlornly at the handcuff. “What the crap happened? It’s all... fuzzy.”

“Luchesis,” Dario replied with a light groan. “Hit the club. They attacked two other Gentleman properties. All at the same time.”

“Is Cold okay?” Jimmy asked immediately.

“Yeah, come on,” Dario snorted. “He’s fine. I’m fine, too. Thanks for asking.”

“You... you saved me,” Jimmy said with sudden clarity, gazing adoringly at his friend. “You pushed me out of the way.”

“Yeah,” Dario said with a wry smile. “Bullet still grazed you, but don’t worry. I caught it with my shoulder.”

“Shit.” Jimmy could see that Dario’s shoulder was bandaged and his arm was in a sling.

“Shit is right,” Dario scoffed. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”