86
JOEY
Ow! There's a reason I don't drink a lot. Hangovers are hell. A hell of a lot of fun while you're getting one, not so much when you actually live through it. My head throbs as I open my eyes. Damn margaritas.
Except I'm not in my room. Not in my bed. These covers aren't soft like mine. They're rough and scratchy against my bare calves.
Holy shit! Where the hell am I? Where is Max? Where's Ash?
Bile burns my throat. My headache has nothing to do with the margaritas. I banged my head. But Ash was there. He told me we had to go home. What the hell happened? Think, Joey!
I was changing out of my bathing suit. Monique gave me a cocktail.
Monique! That bitch fucking drugged me. And then she shot Ash. Bile surges up from my gullet.
I survey my current situation. My dress is dirty, but I'm still in it, my underwear too. My knees are scraped from when I fell. My wrists and ankles are bound together with zip ties. I twist against them, but the plastic only tightens, pinching my skin.
"Hey! Where the hell am I?" I yell, but my voice is little more than a croak, my throat raw and dry. "Hey!" I try again, and this time it's loud enough to send someone walking through the door. "Morning, princess," Monique says, wearing a saccharine smile. Bitch!
"What the hell, Mo?" I shriek. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"A joke?" She throws her head back and laughs like the psycho she so obviously is. "What exactly do you think is funny, Jo? Although seeing you all trussed up like a turkey is kinda funny." My stomach rolls. She's unhinged. "What the hell, Mo? You're supposed to be my best friend!"
"Your best friend?" She whines the last two words in a mocking tone. "You have any idea how fucking infuriating it is to be your friend, Joey? Watching you get every single fucking thing you want just because you're Joey Moretti." She rolls her eyes and sticks her index finger down her throat.
I blink at her. Where the hell is this coming from? "But... you and me... we were..."
"You never liked me. You were only ever my friend to make yourself feel good and we both know it."
"That's not true. You're rewriting our entire lives."
She stalks toward the bed and leans over me. "You are a spoiled little bitch, Joey. Snapping your fingers and getting whatever you want."
"You have everything, Mo. Any guy you want. Money." Those are the only things that have ever been important to her. "What more do I have that you don't?"
"Money?" She snorts. "I have nothing, Joey. My mom has burned through it all. Every last cent."
"I didn't know." I frown.
She sneers. "Of course you didn't. Because you wander around in your own little perfect Joey world."
"Are you out of your freaking mind?" I scream. "My world is far from perfect." My mom died when I was three. My father was a maniac. I was sent off to Italy for three long years-for reasons I still can't fathom-and she knows all of this. She folds her arms across her chest and looks down at me like I'm something she just stepped in.
"Mo? Please?" I plead with her. Surely she has to see reason. "Why are you doing this?"
She sighs dreamily. "For Viktor." "Viktor?"
"Hmm. He's my ticket out of here."
I only know one Viktor, but it can't be him, right? "Tell me Viktor Pushkin isn't Mystery Guy?"
Her only response is a smug smile. It makes a sick kind of sense. Her man was always disappearing for weeks on end and more recently seemed to have gone completely off the radar. "But why? What does Viktor Pushkin want with me?" She runs a finger through one of my curls and I yank my head out of her reach, making her laugh. "Poor little naive Joey. Nobody ever tells you what's going on, do they? Even screwing Max didn't make him open up to you." My stomach rolls again. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Before she can answer, the door opens and a heavyset man with tattoos on his face and a shaved head walks into the room.
"Hey, baby," she squeals when she sees him. This must be Viktor.
He doesn't smile. There isn't even a flicker of affection for her in his eyes. He lifts his arm, and it's only then that I see the gun in his hand. I close my eyes and shrink back. Dear god, he's going to kill me.
A deafening gunshot rings out and I'm splattered with warm stickiness. Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath, and something drips into my mouth. Blood. Is it mine?
Refocusing on my surroundings, I see Viktor standing directly in front of me. On the floor is Monique, face down with a huge hole in the back of her skull.
I lurch forward and vomit onto the floor.
"We meet at last, Guiseppina," Viktor says in a thick Russian accent. He smirks, not in the least bit bothered by the dead body or the puddle of puke at his feet. "You're a psychopath."
"Maybe." His smirk transforms into a full smile. "But I am your husband also. At least this time next week I will be."
MAX
"I can't fucking stand this, D," I snap, pacing up and down the corridor. "We need to be out there doing something, not sitting around waiting."
"Doing what, Max? Lorenzo has a team of men ripping Monique's house apart. Dmitri has half his army scouring the city. I got all my tech guys searching every traffic camera for Monique's car. But our best lead is in that fucking room having
his chest sewn back together." He nods in the direction of the operating room. "This is where we need to be. But if it makes you feel better to be out there busting some heads open, you go do that."
I glare at him, hating him for being right. "It's been six fucking hours, and nothing." I rake my hands through my hair. My ability to think logically or rationally has fled. I'm consumed with rage and terror. My girl is out there somewhere, and they could be hurting her right now. They could be-
A woman in scrubs steps into the waiting room. "Mr. Moretti?"
Please, fuck, let Ash have made it.
Dante steps forward. "Yes."
"Your friend is out of surgery and he's stable. He's in recovery."
Thank whatever god or devil is responsible for saving that lucky fucker's life.
"When can we talk to him, Doctor?"
She frowns. "He's had major surgery. He needs his rest."
"I understand that, but I need to speak with him. I assume you've been informed of our particular circumstances?"
She winces. "I have."
The Morettis pay for this hospital's discretion and cooperation in the form of millions of dollars in donations each year. This nurse knows she's unlikely to work in another hospital in the entire tri-state area if she refuses to comply. He lifts his eyebrows. "So when can I speak with him?"
"You can wait in his room and speak with him when he wakes," she says reluctantly.
"Which room is he in?" I ask.
"Follow me."
Ash is hooked up to a dozen machines, but he looks pretty good for a guy who was shot earlier today and almost died.
"Please don't wake him. You won't get any sense out of him if you do. He should start coming around in about half an hour when the anesthesia wears off."
Dante thanks the nurse and she leaves us alone to stare at Ash, lying motionless in the hospital bed.
I cough, breaking the long silence. "What now?"
Dante takes a seat in one of the bedside chairs. "We wait until he wakes up."
With a deep sigh, I sit next to him and stare at Ash, willing him to wake the fuck up and hand us the key to finding Joey.
"Why the fuck would Monique drug her?"
"Money," he answers without hesitation. "You know her mom has all but burned through what her dad left them?"
"I figured as much."
"I knew though. I should have seen it, Max. It should have been a huge fucking red flag. I know people like her. They will do anything for money."
"So, she what? Delivered Joey to Viktor Pushkin? Why?"
"Because Monique is his girlfriend," Ash croaks.
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I jump out of my seat. I could fucking kiss him. "Ash, you tough-as-nails son of a bitch!"
Nodding, he winces.
"What else did you hear?"
"Not much. I was in and out... wherever he's been hiding... they've taken her there."
"If she's his girlfriend, why did she help him take Joey?" Dante asks with a frown.
"Revenge," Ash answers, coughing.
"No." I shake my head. "The guys who took me said their boss was furious with me for touching his girl. They very much implied she belonged to him. He took Joey because he wants the Italian Mafia princess he was promised. He wants her to be his wife."
"Twisted fuck," Dante says with a snarl.
"This is good news, D. It means that Monique is dispensable, but not Joey."
"You know my sister though, right? Never backs down from a challenge. Never runs from a fight. She will run her mouth as soon as she finds out what the fuck is going on. He'll kill her."
"No, she won't. She's smarter than that," I assure him.
"I fucking hope so."
I take Ash's face in my hands and kiss his forehead, making him groan with disgust.
Everything's falling into place like a puzzle that I just found the last, most important piece of. "I fucking love you, but we have to go to Racine."
"Why are we going to Racine?" Dante asks.
"Because I know where his place is."
"What? Where?"
"Above a sex club called Elena's Erotic Arena in Racine."
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"I'll explain in the car. Now, can we please go get my fucking girl?"
He turns to Ash. "Get some rest, buddy and thank you."
"My pleasure. Tell her I'm sorry I let her down," he whispers as his eyes close.
"You didn't, Ash," I tell him, but I doubt he heard me.
I call Lorenzo and bring him up to speed while Dante drives as fast as possible to Racine. When I'm done, I tell Dante how a complimentary tin of breath mints is going to lead us to his sister.