Joey: Chapter 22

I stare out of the car window, my head spinning and my stomach churning as Max drives me home. I’ve never felt more humiliated in my life as I did when he turned up at Mo’s party and literally dragged Logan Blake off me by the scruff of his neck while we were making out.

Logan is the hottest guy in this whole goddamn city, and I finally get a shot with him only to have it spectacularly and publicly ruined by my older brothers’ attack dog. But the humiliation is nothing compared to the anxiety at facing my brothers’ wrath when I get home. I was already on my last warning for sneaking out, but what’s a girl to do when the two of them don’t even give me room to breathe? And Max is no better. He watches me like a hawk. They should applaud my ingenuity at being able to escape their clutches occasionally.

Not that being rescued by Max usually bothers me so much. He is HOT. Man-hot, not boy-hot like Logan. Max is the whole freaking package. Dark and dangerous, with muscles on top of muscles and a body covered by tattoos. I love the way they peek out of his dress shirts, revealing a glimpse of the hidden secrets beneath.

Not that anything could ever happen between us. He sees me as his best friends’ annoying kid sister and nothing more. But that doesn’t stop me from staring at him every chance I get and making him feel as uncomfortable as humanly possible.

“Did you really have to do that tonight?” I ask with a sigh and an eye roll.

“Do what?” he says coolly, as though he didn’t just ruin my goddamn life.

“Grab Logan like that? Drag me out of that party like a naughty teenager?”

He glances at me sideways, taking his eyes off the road for a split second. “You are a naughty teenager.”

“I’m eighteen!” I snap.

“You snuck out of the fucking house with no protection—”

“Actually I have plenty of condoms in my purse,” I say with a casual shrug. It’s a lie, but it’s way too much fun to see that thick vein bulge in his neck when he’s pissed.

His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “That’s not the kind of protection I meant, Joey,” he says with a snarl. “What the fuck?”

“I know.” I suppress a snicker. “But why are you so bothered about what guys I might hook up with, Maximo?” I ask seductively, running my fingertips over his arm.

“Because I fucking care about you,” he snaps. “And I don’t want to see you hurt. You keep putting yourself in these stupid fucking situations—”

“I was at a goddamn party,” I yell. “That’s what eighteen-year-olds do.”

“With a purse full of fucking condoms,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Better that than an unwanted pregnancy, huh?” I laugh. “Can you imagine what Dante and Lorenzo would say if that happened?”

“Can you imagine what your father would say?” His cold tone is a sobering reminder of why I’ve never had sex with anyone. And why most guys wouldn’t even dare try. A shudder runs down my spine. “Can you imagine what we would do to the poor guy who knocked you up, Joey?” he adds, his tone a little softer now.

“We?” I whisper.

“I would cut off his cock with a blunt hacksaw before your brothers even got anywhere near him,” he tells me matter-of-factly.

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I’ve never had sex. Never likely to, given that I’m basically a prisoner and now I’m going to be on complete lockdown until college starts.”

Max’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You’ve never …?”

“Nope,” I snap, going back to staring out of the window. “No guy stupid enough to fuck Joey Moretti around here.”

“Joey.” My name is a heavy sigh tumbling from his lips.

“Just take me home, Max. Let me listen to my lecture so I can go to bed and forget this awful night ever happened.”

He opens his mouth, probably about to come up with another bullshit excuse for why he and my brothers are overbearing assholes who treat me like I’m a second-class citizen, but he closes it without saying anything, and the rest of the drive is spent in awkward silence.

Two days later, I find myself sitting in a car with Max again. Only this time he’s driving me to the airport. My brothers were beyond pissed when I got home the other night, and I guess this is my punishment. My heart is heavy in my chest, and I fight back tears as I stare out of the window. I finger the St. Christopher pendant absent-mindedly. Apparently he’s the patron saint of travelers. It belonged to my mom, and my brothers gave me it for this trip.

Never take it off, Joey! As if some crusty old saint is going to protect me. But I’ll always wear it because it was my mom’s. And because a part of me believes that there’s something bigger than me in the universe.

“They’re doing this to protect you, Joey,” Max says softly.

I ignore him. He’s as big an asshole as the rest of them. They can dress this up any damn way they please but shipping me off to some convent school in Italy will never be what’s best for me.

“They just want—”

“Stop!” I shout. “Just stop it. You’re as bad as they are.”

Max sighs deeply, but at least he stops talking. I continue to stare out the window. My brothers couldn’t even be bothered to take me to the airport themselves. Instead they farmed me out to Max to handle. Dealing with all that female emotion would be too much for the Moretti brothers, right? They think they’re so damn tough, but they can’t handle a few tears. Cowards.

A tear runs down my cheek, and I swat it away before Max sees. It’s easier to focus on my rage toward my brothers right now. If I lose sight of that, all I’ll have left is the soul-crushing despair of being sent to live on the other side of the world with people I don’t even know.

When Dante and Lorenzo told me yesterday that I was going to Italy for three years and that I had no say at all in the matter, I thought they were playing a practical joke. No discussion. No consideration of my feelings at all. The decision was made, and it was final. I guess the joke’s on me.

The two of them barely looked at me once after breaking their news. Not even Anya fought for me, which is so unlike her. She stands up to them on my behalf all the time, but not on this. She sat quietly by and watched while they ruined my whole life.

And here I am, headed to Italy all alone. Well except for the four armed escorts who will accompany me until I reach the convent school and receive my new security detail. No family. No friends. Nobody.

“Joey,” Maximo says softly, and I realize I’m crying.

“Leave me the hell alone,” I sniff. Max moved into our house when I was four. He’s ten years older, and he always looked out for me like a big brother. Although for the past two years, I’ve fantasized about him being way more than that. I flirt with him constantly, and he pretends not to notice. His betrayal hurts just as much as my brothers’ does.

When we pull up at the airport, I reach for the door handle but Maximo locks it, preventing me from leaving.

“Joey. Look at me.”

“No.” He doesn’t get to give me some speech about this being for my own good to make himself feel better. They’re getting rid of me because I’m a pain in their ass and their lives will be easier without me in it. Nothing he says can convince me otherwise.

“Joey,” he says, his voice low and demanding.

I turn and glare at him.

“One day you will see that this was for your protection …”

“The fuck I will!”

He closes his eyes and draws a deep breath through his nose. When he opens them again, he places his hand on my chin and a jolt of electricity surges through me. He tilts my head until I’m forced to look at him. “Your brothers only want what’s best for you, and I promise you that one day you’ll see that.”

I let the tears run freely down my cheeks. Screw them all to hell. “You’re a fucking liar, Max. This is my punishment and we both know it.”

Shaking his head, he sighs. “It’s not. But sometimes the right thing to do hurts, Joey.”

“The right thing for who? Dante and Lorenzo? Because this only benefits them as far as I can see. Get Joey out of the way and forget about her, yeah?” I wipe my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

“I wish I could explain,” he says, his brow furrowed in a frown. “But just know that they would do anything to protect you.”

“I’m eighteen years old. I don’t need their goddamn protection.”

He grips my jaw tighter, his eyes burning into mine. “Listen to me, Joey Moretti,” he commands. “Like it or not, you will always be a target. There will always be men who will want to hurt you. To make you feel less than simply because you’re a woman who was born into power.”

“I’m not—”

He narrows his eyes in warning, and I stop talking.

“There’ll be people who will try to take that power from you using any means necessary. Do you understand me?”

“I know our life is dangerous. I know all that already. But I can look after myself. I’m not a child.”

“Then stop fucking acting like one,” he says, his tone dripping with anger.

“I hate all of you. I’m going to run away the first chance I get, and I will never fucking speak to any of you again.”

His jaw ticks and he glowers at me. “You will not fucking run, Joey.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Watch me.”

“I will be watching, Joey,” he says, his tone menacing. “Know that there is nowhere far enough you can run that I won’t find you.”

I swallow hard as his dark eyes burn into mine. That sounds like a threat but feels like something more. “Why would you even care to look?” I sniff as another tear rolls down my cheek.

He shakes his head in exasperation.

“Max?”

His eyes narrow as they search my face. “You know why.”

I don’t. And this all hurts too much for me to figure it out.

“If anyone ever comes for you, Joey, you give them whatever’s necessary to keep yourself safe. You have one job and that’s to keep yourself alive, you got that?”

I blink at him in confusion. Why is he talking about all this stuff?

He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Know that I will always be looking for you, Joey. And I will always find you.”