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“Funny thing about guns.” Cold smirked smugly as he pressed the heel of his shoe down on Corman’s throat. “If you want to kill someone…” He pulled out the clip. It was empty. “They require ammunition.”

Corman’s nose was bleeding, and he gurgled as Cold dropped the gun down beside him. “How? Fucking how?”

The door of the dressing room opened suddenly and in walked Matteo Luchesi. He had the receiver from Maury’s pawn shop in one hand and a gun in the other.

Jimmy was pretty sure that one was loaded.

“Ring,” Cold said, reaching back to Jimmy.

Jimmy’s hands were shaking too badly.

Cold reached for him, taking his hand and carefully working the ring off his trembling finger while grinding his foot down on Corman’s neck.

“Matteo,” Corman gasped. “I didn’t—”

“Shut up, Corman,” Matteo snapped. “I heard everything.”

Cold offered the ring out to him, sneering at Corman. “Tough break.”

Handing Cold the receiver, Matteo took the ring and smiled at it adoringly. It was obvious that it meant a lot to him. He nodded at Cold. “Thank you for this.” He looked at Corman in the same way someone would regard a pile of rotting meat. “You’re such an arrogant fool. Never even thought about checking the gun I gave you to make sure it was loaded.”

Cold took his foot off Corman’s throat and put the receiver in his pocket. He pulled Jimmy into his arms, a firm hand at his neck and one at the small of his back.

“This is not fucking over!” Corman roared, his eyes wild and glaring. “Matteo, please, listen to me—”

“No more,” Matteo said, cutting him off. “Not another word from that poisoned tongue of yours. This is for my father, you fucking piece of shit.” He aimed his gun.

Jimmy couldn’t tear his eyes away, and he watched Matteo aim right for Corman’s forehead.

Cold grabbed Jimmy close, pressing his face against his chest and urging, “Don’t look.”

Jimmy closed his eyes, and Matteo fired, the shot ringing in Jimmy’s ears. He couldn’t hear because everything was muddled and weird. The gun kept firing, and Cold pulled Jimmy out of the dressing room and dragged him away.

Jimmy never looked back.

He never saw Corman’s body, but he didn’t need to.

Cold led him down the narrow hallway that exited out the back of the club.

Leaning heavily against Cold, Jimmy’s legs turned weak. Cold guided him through the door, and they ran right into Augustus and several SSPD squad cars. Jimmy started crying, the adrenaline making every inch of his body shake.

It was over. Corman was dead.

“Got everything you need?” Cold asked briskly, eyes locking with Augustus’.

Augustus looked as if he had seen a ghost, but he nodded. He carefully removed the wire from Jimmy’s jacket. “We heard it all. We’ll contact the DA tonight. David Poe is an innocent man, and we’ll get him out as soon as we can. I’ll make sure the courts put a rush on it.”

Jimmy sobbed harder, clinging to Cold.

His father was going to be free.

“And Matteo Luchesi?” Cold went on.

Augustus turned to the officers behind him, all in full battle gear, and he gave them a thumbs-up. They rushed to the back door as Augustus said, “About to be arrested for the murder of Rufus Corman. I don’t suppose you’re going to explain how Matteo happened to hear everything?”

Cold shrugged, innocently replying, “Perhaps he had his ear pressed against the door.” He turned his head slightly when he heard a distant barrage of gunfire. “Guess we’ll never know.”

There was static over Augustus’ radio, and a tinny voice whispered, “Target was hostile and armed, team leader. Target is down, securing the area.”