Page 9 of Cold Hard Cash

He had to wait until Cold said he could move.

“Consider this a tip,” Cold said with a shrug, smirking happily. “I’ve decided to officially accept your deal. You’ll need to be here again tomorrow night. Nine o’clock.”

Jimmy didn’t move, but a quick glance at the cash scattered all over him definitely didn’t seem like the agreed upon amount. “This isn’t... ten thousand?”

“No, it’s not,” Cold snorted, his brows raised in amusement. “This was just a test run, remember? Think of it as an interview that went exceptionally well. I wasn’t going to agree to buy the cow without tasting the milk first, Mr. Poe.”

Jimmy’s face flushed, his head dropping back against the pillows. He had honestly forgotten that tonight wasn’t the official start of their arrangement.

“Besides, when and if you do earn your ten thousand dollars for a good night’s work, did you really think that I was just going to give you cash?” Cold pursed his lips, apparently amused by the idea.

“Well... yes?”

“Cash that you would turn around and pay right back to me?” Cold said with a short laugh.

“When you put it that way, okay, yes, it’s...” Jimmy closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. “Right. Got it.”

“I think your track record proves that you’re not fiscally responsible,” Cold lectured, making one last adjustment to his sweater before walking back toward the desk. “I wouldn’t trust you not to waste it like you did all the rest of the money you owe me.”

“I didn’t waste it,” Jimmy protested softly.

Cold paused, huffing incredulously. “I’ve seen your apartment, Mr. Poe. Whatever you spent that cash on, it was definitely a waste because you have nothing to show for it.”

Those words cut deeper than Cold could ever know, Jimmy’s eyes instantly welling up with tears. The crime boss was right. Thousands upon thousands of dollars spent, and his father was still in jail. He sniffed quietly, rolling over onto his side, the crisp bills crunching softly as he moved.

“Can I go now, sir?” Jimmy asked, struggling to keep his voice from shaking.

“Is it five o’clock?” Cold asked sternly.

“No.”

“There’s your answer,” Cold replied flatly as he sat back down at his desk. “Get up. Take another shower. I may wanna fuck you again before you leave.”

Jimmy had to force himself to get moving, grabbing his robe and gathering up all the sticky bills. He wadded them into a bunch to take with him to the bathroom, shoving them into the pocket of the robe to count later. After shutting the door and getting the water going, he cradled his face in his hands and sobbed quietly. He collapsed on the floor by the tub, trying to keep his sounds of sorrow as discreet as possible.

His father was still rotting away in jail for a crime he didn’t commit, a fact that Cold had been kind enough to remind Jimmy of. He knew that Cold hadn’t meant to, but Jimmy had never felt more like a failure than right at that moment. He was no closer to freeing his father despite all the debt he had incurred, he hadn’t been able to keep a job for more than a few months, his bank accounts were all in the negative, credit cards maxed out, and his only friend was a crooked old loan shark.

He had literally just had sex for money with a ruthless criminal, his feelings even more conflicted about what he had done because while he felt completely filthy, he had enjoyed it. Every second of it.

And he already knew he was going to do it again. Again and again. Because right now, Roderick Legrand was the only hope he had of getting his life back on track. Ironic, really, since he was the one threatening Jimmy’s life if he didn’t pay up.

Jimmy sighed miserably, finally reaching into his pocket to dig out the cash, sniffling sadly as he thumbed through the bills. He frowned as he counted it. That couldn’t be right. He counted it again.

“Holy shit,” he breathed excitedly. It was sixteen hundred dollars.

Cold had tipped him sixteen hundred fucking dollars.

Jimmy was giddy. He started laughing, hugging the money tightly to his chest. He could buy groceries, real groceries. He could actually purchase fruit and vegetables and eat a real meal. He could finally pay his rent so he wouldn’t be kicked out of his apartment.

Sure beat the hell out of the eighty-six dollars and nineteen cents he’d started the day with.

Chapter Three

Jimmy went back to Cold’s bed after his shower, anxiously awaiting the gangster’s return. The hours ticked by in silence, Cold working tirelessly at the stack of ledgers in front of him and not paying Jimmy a bit of attention.

Pulling the blankets up over himself, Jimmy stayed quiet and got comfortable. He didn’t dare ask permission to watch television or even order room service as his stomach rumbled but spent his time looking around the room in search of any clues to the man he had chosen to fall into bed with.

He found very little.