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“What the fuck, Cold?” Lorre shouted, furious that Cold was ignoring them and was so caught up in Jimmy. “I demand fuckin’ blood for my brother. Let me have the kid! Are you listening to anything I’m sayin’? He’s Detective Duplin’s son!”

Cold was not impressed by Lorre’s outburst, and he glared at him heatedly as he calmly said, “Yes… I know.”

Chapter nine

No one was more shocked than Jimmy. He was frozen in place, gawking stupidly at Cold.

He knew.

Cold knew Augustus was his adoptive father.

Why?

How?

Jimmy’s mind spun with questions, trying to stay grounded, but he was totally terrified. Was this the part where Cold made him go sleep with the fishes? Cement shoes? Was this all some horrible trap?

“You brought that pig’s fuckin’ kid here? Why?” Lorre snarled.

“My intentions with Mr. Poe are none of your business,” Cold said coolly, “but I can assure you he’s no threat to any of you.”

“What about my brother?” Lorre demanded.

“You’ll get your blood debt some other way.” Cold bared his teeth. “You will not get it tonight, and you will certainly not get it from Mr. Poe.”

Jimmy clung to Cold’s wrist and stared at Lorre to see what he was going to do.

Lorre backed off, clearly not pleased but loyal enough to stand down. “Fine, Boss,” he spat. “Whatever you say.”

Tamerlane lowered his gun, then moved to Lorre’s side and rested his hand on his shoulder. They exchanged a brief glance, something tender and meaningful that was over all too fast when Corman spoke back up.

“I think not. I’ve got my own personal business with Detective Duplin.” Corman grinned at Jimmy, and his tone turned nasty as he spat, “And I would love to tell Mr. Poe here all about it.”

“Yeah? And let you put your fucking hands on him again?” Rowena grabbed her shoes up from the floor. She raised one over her head. “I don’t know what is going on here, but if you think you’re gonna hurt Jimmy? Oh, I will rock your fucking skull with six inches of steel—”

“Rowena,” Cold said, his voice quick and stern.

Rowena glared, but she lowered the shoe.

The Gentlemen watched silently, the air tense. There had been a serious violation of their decorum, and now it had to be corrected. They all seemed to know what was coming.

“Mr. Corman,” Cold said, his voice eerily calm. “I think you’re forgetting something very important here. We Gentlemen have rules.” Guiding Jimmy into Rowena’s arms, he looked to Jules in an unspoken command.

Jules grabbed Corman without question and roughly dragged him over to the bar.

Cold was right beside them in a flash, and he snatched Corman’s arm and forced his hand up on the bar top.

Tamerlane followed and aimed his gun right at Corman’s head.

“Hey, hey! Come on now!” Corman struggled, trying in vain to break away from Jules’ iron grip. He looked up to find the barrel of Tamerlane’s gun and went still, his eyes bulging in terror. There was no way to escape, and he grunted as Cold spread his fingers wide, forcing Corman’s pinkie out from the rest.

“Oh, you fucked up now.” Thirdsies giggled menacingly.

Jimmy could only watch in horror, clinging to Rowena.

Oh God.

What was Cold going to do?