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Corman pulled him roughly away from the fireplace and dragged him toward the hallway. “I’ll take care of this little problem,” he promised, leering horribly at Jimmy. “Personally.”

Jimmy was scared, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere with Corman without a fight. He swung, trying to push him away. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Corman, let him go!” Rowena took off one of her heels and reared her arm back. “God fuckin’ help me, I will beat the brains out of your head with my fuckin’ Jimmy Choo if you don’t let him go!”

“Rowena, for fuck’s sake!” Lorre groaned. “That guy is a pig’s fuckin’ brat, probably came here to spy on us! You think it’s a coincidence that Duplin is up Cold’s ass about Dickie, and now this guy just happens to show up?”

“I don’t care!” Rowena snarled, pointing her shoe at Lorre now. “Roddy said hands the fuck off, and I don’t see Roddy right now. Do you?”

“No, but—”

“But fuckin’ nothin’!” Rowena raged, her furious gaze snapping to Corman. “Get your nasty fuckin’ mitts off of him. We’ll let Roddy decide what to do. Until then, let him go.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Rowena,” Corman said, and Jimmy tried to wiggle away again while he seemed distracted. Corman’s grip only tightened, and he suddenly crashed Jimmy’s face into his knee.

Jimmy collapsed to the floor, crying out in pain. His lip was split, and he could taste blood.

“You bastard!” Rowena seethed as she flung her shoe at Corman’s head. She missed by a mile and cursed loudly, pulling off her other heel.

“Easy now.” Corman chuckled, holding up his hands and easily batting away the other shoe as it came flying at his head. “Just a little tap. He’s fine.”

“You are such a fucking douche nozzle.” Rowena growled as she dropped beside Jimmy, She wrapped her arms around him protectively and glared up at Corman. “Roddy is gonna fuck you up.”

“Over some cop’s kid? Please,” Corman sneered in disgust. “Cold won’t fucking care, he’ll probably thank me!”

“And what exactly am I thanking you for?” Cold’s voice boomed, his eyes glittering with a fury that chilled Jimmy to his marrow as Cold walked into the den with Jules and Tamerlane flanking either side of him.

Jules’ giant hands curled into fists, and Tamerlane had a gun drawn before Jimmy could blink. They weren’t looking at Jimmy though. Their wrath was aimed directly at Corman. Jimmy didn’t understand the reason for the animosity, but it was very clear that no one was a fan of him.

Corman rolled his eyes and gestured toward Jimmy. “Your little escort here is not what he seems.”

“Cold, this kid is Augustus Duplin’s son,” Lorre snapped. “I knew I’d seen him before.”

“Same here.” Corman laughed. “Tell me, Jimmy. When’d ya start dyeing your hair? I kinda miss the blond.”

“What?” Jimmy touched his hair instinctively. He hadn’t been blond since middle school, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how any of these gangsters would know that.

“Tried finding him or Duplin’s daughter a year or so back,” Lorre chimed back in. “Was looking for some payback for my brother. Couldn’t ever track ’em down.”

Cold reached for Jimmy, his hands firm but gentle as he pulled him from Rowena’s arms and up to his feet. He cradled the back of Jimmy’s head, tilting his face toward him so he could get a better look at the damage.

Jimmy trembled, and his fingers curled tight around Cold’s wrist as his vision blurred with tears.

This was it.

Cold was going to kill him.

He was going to tear him into pieces and feed him to the damn dogs outside.

“Are you all right?” Cold asked quietly. His rage appeared to be simmering for the moment, but his expression was stern. He let Jimmy hold his wrist without protest, his icy blue eyes peering at him intently.

“I’m o-okay.” Jimmy didn’t want this to end, no. Not like this. He had to plead his case, he had to fight, and he had to tell Cold the truth right now. “Please. Listen. Look, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I kept trying to tell you—”

“Shhh, be quiet,” Cold soothed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket so he could dab at Jimmy’s bleeding lip.

Jimmy was stunned.

Cold had to have heard the Gentlemen’s accusations, but he didn’t seem to care. He was only concerned with Jimmy, scrutinizing the wound once more with a frown.