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Trembling, Jimmy nodded tearfully. “Tell me, just tell me what to do.”

“Come on,” Jules urged, gesturing to Jimmy to strip the bed. They pulled off all the sheets so Jules could throw down a plastic tarp. Jimmy didn’t even know where he had gotten it from. It was just there, and Jules shoved one end at Jimmy to drape over the bed.

They tucked it around the mattress and then Jules dragged one of the bedside tables out of the way.

Tamerlane was there next, his face bloodied, but it didn’t seem to be his. He had a tall fluorescent lamp over his shoulder. “They’re not here yet?”

“Does it look like they are?” Jules snapped, taking the lamp and then positioning it next to the bed.

“Fuck you!” Tamerlane spat.

“Fuck you!” Jules barked back. “They’ll be here.”

“What happened?” Jimmy asked in a tiny, frightened voice, wrapping his arms around himself.

Tamerlane glanced at Jules before replying, “Meeting with the Luchesis. Went bad. Real bad. We got a rat in the house.”

“You mean a traitor?” Jimmy clarified.

“Uh-huh.” Tamerlane sneered hatefully. “No one knew where the meeting was going down until the last minute. And yet, some fuckhead with a gun came blazing in, aiming for Cold and Matteo Luchesi. Matteo didn’t get hit, but Cold…”

“He took two bullets, both gut shots,” Jules said gently, trying to soothe the terrified look on Jimmy’s face. “He’s bleedin’ bad, but he’s fightin’. We got Doc Queen on her way, and she’s the baddest bitch I know.”

“Can’t you take him to a hospital?” Jimmy pleaded.

“And get him arrested? Fuck, come on now,” Jules gruffed. “Cops are all over the place as it is now. Another big fuckin’ problem.”

“Wh-what is?” Jimmy struggled to follow along.

“Cops were on their way before the gunman started shooting,” Tamerlane explained. “We heard sirens before the first shot.”

“A setup.” Jimmy hastily scrubbed his hands across his face. “But by who? The Luchesis? Would they risk taking out their own guy to get Cold?”

Tamerlane and Jules exchanged concerned looks, as if they had already said too much. Before they could decide on whether or not to confirm Jimmy’s suspicions, there was a new commotion downstairs. It was a rush of raised voices, something being knocked over and broken, and a loud groan of pain.

Rod.

Jules and Tamerlane rushed out of sight, leaving Jimmy to stand there feeling like a fool. He didn’t know if he needed to go help or if he needed to be doing something else here. He was scared and useless, his heart clinging to his tonsils as he rocked back and forth on his heels by the bed.

Jules returned, Boss Cold in his arms, limp and pale. “Come here, help me,” Jules snapped at Jimmy, nodding for him to join him at the bed. “Hold his head.”

Jimmy obeyed, cradling Cold’s head as Jules lowered him.

Cold was sweaty, gaunt from the blood loss, and his eyes fluttered open. He seemed to relax when he saw Jimmy, but still he groaned softly.

“Rod,” Jimmy whispered, the tarp crinkling beneath him as he crawled up on the bed.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Cold murmured. His eyes closed. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. Really.” Petting Cold’s brow, Jimmy tried to smile and ignore the blood that soaked his shirt and pants. He could see it oozing through the makeshift bandage that had been applied to Cold’s side, and he demanded, “Where is the doctor?”

“Right here,” a firm, smooth voice called out, heels clicking loudly on the wooden floors as she approached. She was a thin woman with a shock of peroxide blonde hair.

Jimmy would have almost mistaken her for frail, but her expression told a different story. Despite her petite frame, her entire energy screamed of danger and strength as she gloved up and sat on the edge of the bed next to Cold.

A young woman accompanied her, small and quick, carrying a large surgeon’s bag, from which she pulled out a plethora of equipment.

“Abigail, start two IVs,” the doctor ordered. “I want a saline drip and start pushing morphine stat. Mr. Legrand is not going to like what we’re about to do.”