Page 89 of Cold Hard Cash

“Lying to police officers?” Cold looked shocked, teasing. “Why, Mr. Poe, picking up all of these criminal habits.”

“Just so you know, in the future? I will only be taking on innocent clientele to avoid the whole lying to police stuff.”

“Mmm, won’t have much business then, I’m afraid,” Cold said with an affectionate smirk. “I don’t know many innocent men.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” Jimmy said quietly, trying to ignore the memories of Jules standing over him with a gun. The blood, there was so much blood, Vincenzo’s dead eyes staring at him but not seeing. Not seeing anything ever again.

“What’s wrong?” Cold’s demeanor shifted to one of concern.

“I just... I was thinking,” Jimmy stammered, his breathing starting to quicken. “That’s the second time I’ve seen... someone killed. I’m...”

The room was starting to spin, his vision getting dark. He tried to tell himself that there was no blood here, there was no knife, no gun. He was panting, his fingers clenching and unclenching against the sheets. He couldn’t keep the panic from rising up and flooding his lungs, squeezing his chest until he couldn’t breathe.

“Take a breath. Tell me what you need,” Cold said, lying down beside Jimmy and pulling him into his arms.

“Just you,” Jimmy replied, trying to shake off the darkness and melting against Cold like a bowl of ice cream on a hot summer day. He pressed as close as he could, invading every inch of space between them until he was practically glued to him. “I just... need you.”

“Keep breathing,” Cold ordered and continued to hold Jimmy tight, rubbing his back and shoulders, not letting up for a moment.

Concentrating on that perfectly smooth voice, Jimmy felt his pulse climb down out of heart attack territory. It was amazing how quickly Cold could pull him out of the darkness, and he sighed contently at the tender affection.

“Better?” Cold soothed gently after a few long beats of silence, resting his cheek against Jimmy’s hair.

“Yes,” Jimmy sighed, the anxiety finally receding.

“Jules said he told you and Dario to stay back,” Cold said firmly, his tone carrying a hint of reprimand.

“He did,” Jimmy said, “but then we heard the shots. I guess... we just got scared. Dario thought we could get to his car.”

Cold’s hand pressed tightly at the small of Jimmy’s back, chastising, “Foolish.”

“I know,” Jimmy confessed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously.”

“Where’s Jules now?” Jimmy asked. “He... he saved me, too. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Keeping a low profile,” Cold replied, his fingers gently sliding along Jimmy’s spine. “At least until the heat dies down.”

“Did they really trash my place?”

“The Luchesis? Yes. Probably won’t be able to tell much difference, all things considered.”

“Why, because my apartment is already so shitty?” Jimmy snorted, grateful for the splash of levity. “Very funny.”

Cold smirked, pleased with himself at his little joke.

“So. I’m really going to be staying here. With you?” Jimmy peered curiously at Cold, hoping he didn’t sound as excited as he felt. “For how long?”

“Until it’s safe,” Cold said, his eyes lingering on Jimmy’s lips.

“Worried about me?”

“You still have quite a debt to work off,” Cold deflected smoothly.

“Mmmm, I really do,” Jimmy said dryly. He knew Cold was being facetious, but it would be so nice to actually hear one genuine statement of endearment.

“I’ll have your things brought over. Anything in particular you need?”