Joey: A brother’s best friend, standalone dark mafia romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 2)
Joey: Chapter 38

“Hey.” Max grabs my wrist and yanks me into the study, closing the door behind us.

“Hey yourself.” I smile. “I thought you were out with Dante.”

“I was,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is everything okay?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “We found Vito.”

“Oh? That’s good right?”

Max frowns, tension radiating from him in waves.

“Oh, god. He’s not dead, is he?” Poor Kristin.

“No. He’s alive, but from what we know, he’s in rough shape. Dmitri’s men are bringing him here now.”

“Why aren’t they taking him to the hospital?”

“Dante called the surgeon, and he’s on his way. Kat’s going to assist. We can’t risk Vito going to a hospital until we know who kidnapped him and why.”

“Where did you replace him?”

“In that warehouse in Michigan. He was beaten really bad. Locked in a cage and left for dead.”

My grief over all the poor people who were trafficked through that place has me blinking back tears. Kat and I looked into the situation, tried to replace a trace of what happened to them once they left the warehouse, but no records were ever kept and there were no leads to chase. Shaking my head, I refocus on Max. “Why not just kill him though?”

“Maybe they wanted more from him? Maybe they thought he was dead? Who knows? Anyway, I’m going to need your help with Kristin. She didn’t grow up in the same world we did. This will probably be the first person she’s ever seen who’s been beaten within an inch of his life.”

“And it’s her dad.”

“Exactly. Can you stay with her? Help me prepare her for what to expect when she first sees him?”

“Of course. But where will you be?”

“I’m going to be in with Kat and the doc while they’re checking Vito over, in case he says anything. Dante and I are going to need answers from him. If he was found at that warehouse, maybe there’s a link between him and Pushkin?”

“I know he really hurt you in the past,” I say softly.

“I’m not going to fucking kill him, baby.” He sighs. “You think I’d go to all this trouble to replace him if I was going to do that?”

Slipping my arms around his waist, I rest my cheek against his chest. Despite his cool, calm exterior, Max’s heart is hammering. “I know you wouldn’t, but I also know how much what he did affects you.”

“I told you it doesn’t. It’s all in the past.”

Lifting my head, I look up into his dark brown eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Max DiMarco. It’s okay to feel pain.”

“Not in my world, baby.”

“Yes, in your world. Our world. In fact, don’t we feel more pain than most?”

He brushes my hair back from my face. “As long as I have you, nothing can ever hurt me.”

I wish that were true. “What time will Vito be here?”

“In a couple of hours. You want to come replace Kristin with me and I can tell her we found her dad?”

We replace Kristin sitting at the kitchen table with Kat and Gabriella. In the four days since Max’s sister got here, she’s managed to become friends with everyone. She’s sweet and funny, and although she’s only eighteen, it’s clear she isn’t the naive little kid Max thinks she is. I think she’s fully prepared for the fact that her father won’t come back in the same condition he left. In fact, I think she’ll be super relieved just to hear that he’s alive.

“Hey. You’re back?” she says to Max.

He sits down and angles his chair to face her. “Yeah. I have something to talk to you about.”

Kat stands and holds her hands out to her daughter. “I’ll leave you all to it. I need to get some things ready for later.” Dante must have already filled her in on the Vito situation.

I smile at my niece. “I can watch Gabs later if you’re busy.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She waves Gabriella’s chubby little hand at us as they walk out of the kitchen.

“You have some news about my dad?” Kristin asks. See, not the slightest bit naive.

“Yes, we found him.”

“What?” Her hand flies to her mouth and tears well in her eyes. “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Max says with a solemn nod. “But he’s not good, Kristin.”

She frowns. “Not good?”

“I’ve only seen his face, but he’s badly beaten. Real bad.”

“But he’s alive?”

“Yes.”

She throws her arms around her brother’s neck. “I knew you’d replace him. Where is he? When can I see him?”

“He’s on his way here. But maybe you should wait to see him until after Kat and the doc fix him up.”

“He’s been missing for over three weeks, Max. I didn’t expect him to come home looking like he’d been on a vacation to the Bahamas. I know they’ll have tortured him.” A tear runs down her face.

Max wipes it away and wraps an arm around her. “I spoke to the men bringing him here. He’s in and out of consciousness, so you can see him for a few minutes when he gets here, but then he’ll have to be seen by the doctor. Maybe even operated on. You might not get a chance to talk with him until tomorrow. But Joey will stay with you while he’s with the doctor.”

Max glances up at me, his face etched with guilt. They’re going to interrogate Vito before they let him talk to his daughter, but it needs to be done. We have no idea who took him or why, and they need to know immediately if there’s any ongoing danger to our family. The safety of the people in this house is our main priority, and it always will be. I can’t forget the things Kristin’s father told her about us either. How we aren’t to be trusted. We’re the enemy.

Kristin may be innocent in all this, but I doubt her father is. Giving Max a gentle smile, I communicate that he’s doing the right thing.

I hold onto Kristin’s hand while her father is brought into the house in a wheelchair. His head rests on his shoulder like he’s sleeping, and his face is a mess of dried blood, cuts, and bruises. One of Dmitri’s men must have given him the huge overcoat he’s wearing because it’s clean.

“Dad!” Kristin lunges forward.

Vito’s head lolls to the side and his eyes flicker open. “K-K …” he croaks, but he can’t say her name.

“You’re going to be okay, Dad. Max will take care of you. I promise. You’re safe,” she sobs.

“B-buh,” he mumbles, and his eyes shutter closed again.

Kristin takes hold of his hand and gives it a soft squeeze. “They’ll take care of you, Dad. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Promise.”

“We need to check him over,” Kat says as she ushers the men with the wheelchair through to the room at the back of the house where she keeps all of her medical supplies. It also doubles as a makeshift operating theater when the occasion calls for it, which happens more frequently than it should.