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“I’m fine!” Jimmy panted, coughing as he fought to get more oxygen into his body. “Are you?”
“Fine! What fucking assholes!” She growled, holding Jimmy still but turning her body enough so she could kick Gary in the face.
Jimmy saw Vincenzo bleeding from a busted nose, probably broken, curled up on the floor behind him. Giant bouncers arrived to drag him and Gary away, and others calmed the crowd and promised everything was under control as the music came back on.
Their rescuer was casually dusting himself off, and he turned around to flash them a wry grin.
Mickey Tamerlane, the Gentleman assassin fresh out of prison.
“Well, that was fun,” Tamerland crooned with a light chuckle. “Luchesis feelin’ mighty brave today, aren’t they?”
“Fuckin’ assholes,” Rowena muttered, cradling Jimmy close.
Jimmy stared dumbly at Tamerlane. “I… Wow. Um. That was… intense. Thank you.”
Tamerlane shrugged, his dark eyes locking with Jimmy’s. “You’re family. It’s what we do.”
Jimmy wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t know how he should feel about being an honorary member of the Gentlemen family.
Flattered, terrified?
Both?
Struck by a wave of dizziness, he pulled away from Rowena and collapsed against the bar. All the alcohol was rushing up from his stomach, and he was instantly nauseous.
Rowena fussed over him, petting his hair and cooing, “Hey, are you okay?”
Jimmy shook his head. “Yeah, no. Pretty sure I’m gonna be sick.”
Tamerlane made a face and spoke to Rowena. “Get him back to the limo. Some prick has probably called the cops by now. I’ll be right behind you.”
Rowena nodded, urging, “Come on, Jimmy.”
Every step was torture, and Jimmy’s stomach sloshed violently. He gasped, shaking his head in protest of the inevitable before promptly throwing up on the sidewalk. He groaned at the smell of liquor wafting back toward him and the disgusted murmur from the crowd still waiting to get in.
“I don’t think I wanna be a mafia boyfriend anymore,” he whimpered.
“Oh, sure you do,” Rowena soothed, petting his back in comforting little circles.
Jimmy puked again, coughing and hacking. “Fu-uck.”
“Okay. We’ll work on it. Okay?”
Jimmy vomited one more time. “Okay.”
“Let’s go, sweetie.”
Chapter fifteen
Crawling into the back of the limo with help from Rowena and Jerry, Jimmy stretched out across the back seat. He dropped his head in Rowena’s lap and swore to himself that he would never drink again.
“Where are we going?” he asked numbly.
“Home,” Rowena said, petting Jimmy’s hair. “We’re going home.”
The door popped open, Tamerlane shouting, “Let’s fuckin’ go, Jerry!” He got in and sat down opposite Rowena and Jimmy, helping himself to some liquor from the bar.
The limo took off, and Jimmy groaned as his stomach lurched in protest.
