Page 8 of Joey

“Just a feeling.” Everything about the way she described him, his tattoos, his paranoia, the way he disappeared at a moment’s notice, his money, it all screamed Bratva.

“I’ll ask around, but it’s not a lot to go on. Unless he’s someone high up, then maybe I can trace him.”

“If you could get me a name and a location, I’d appreciate it.”

“Anything I should be concerned about?”

“No. Just helping out a friend.”

“I’ll see what I can do. And I’ll keep you updated on Pushkin.”

I end the call and stare out the window. Kristin’s situation is a problem I could do without right now. With everything going on for Lorenzo and Dante, I need to pick up the slack, but instead I’m distracted looking for Kristin’s father.

And then of course there’s my other distraction. My constant, makes my cock twitch just looking at her, sarcastic, spoiled brat, ray of utter fucking sunshine of a distraction. I open the app on my phone and stare at the small blue dot on the screen.

That’s her. Joey Moretti. My girl. At some bar with her friends. I didn’t stick around after her workout today to see what she chose to wear to go to said bar, but I can guarantee it was short and tight. The best outfit she could find to show off her perfect long legs. The amount of time I spend tracking her movements is borderline obsessive. But what else can I do? Knowing that she’s out there without my protection. Knowing that some jackass is probably salivating over her right now, thinking he might have a shot with her. Thinking about touching her. Actually touching her.

Rage bubbles up in my chest and sears through my skin at the thought of another man putting their hands on her. I stare at the dot on the screen. She has two armed escorts with her. They’re some of her brother’s best men. She’s safe. She’s also in a bar with dozens of guys who would love to fuck her.

Grabbing my cell, I stuff it into my pocket and walk into the den to grab the keys to my bike.

“Are you going out?” Kristin asks. She’s curled on the sofa, watching a movie on her laptop even though I have a huge TV.

“Yeah.” I swallow the knot of guilt. She’s perfectly safe here, and I can’t babysit her all the time. I still have a life to live while I’m helping her out. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

She frowns at me. “You have a date?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“When will you be back?”

I glance at my watch. It’s a little after ten, and Joey usually heads home around midnight on Friday nights so she can be awake and ready for Gabriella on Saturday morning. “Two hours. Maybe three. Don’t wait up.”

“You know I will anyway,” she says with a sigh.

“You shouldn’t though, Kristin. I’m more than capable of looking after myself and you are safer here than anywhere else in the world. I promise you.”

“I know. I just…” Her throat contracts as she swallows.

She’sjusta pregnant and terrified eighteen-year-old who just lost the only person in the world she’s been able to depend on. And while Uncle Vito might be a piece of shit for having an affair with his brother’s wife—my mom—and running off with her, he’s still Kristin’s father. I may have only known about my baby sister for a week, but she deserves a better big brother than the one she got.

I close my eyes and sigh. Joey is fine. She’s safe. Me going to that bar and watching her for the next few hours will only end the same way it always does—me frustrated, with a raging boner and only my hand to fuck.

Tossing my keys back onto the sideboard, I walk to the sofa and flop down beside Kristin. “What are we watching?”

“Bridesmaids,” she says with a smile.

“Then can we at least watch it on the TV instead of this tiny ass screen?”

She picks up the TV remote from the table beside her and hands it to me. “Sure.”

ChapterFive

JOEY

“Oh fuck me, it’s MoJo,” a familiar voice shouts.

“Toby Fiore!” Mo shrieks, arms thrown wide, almost knocking me out of the way as she lunges for the guy standing behind me. Toby was our friend in high school. Actually, he was more like our obedient puppy dog the way he used to follow us around. Mo never really had much time for him, so I figure her reaction has more to do with the six cocktails she’s knocked back in the past hour than happiness at seeing our old friend.