Page 41 of Last First Kiss
* * *
Rocco had checked up on Annabelle at least a dozen times in the last four hours, and she’d been completely passed out. He was so pissed at her brother he could barely contain himself. But then those last words she said kept replaying in his head over and over.
Maybe he’d misunderstood her. A virgin?
There was just no possible way. She was, by far, the sexiest woman he’d ever met. She oozed sex appeal. And the way she kissed, a virgin didn’t kiss that way, right?
Jesus, the way he’d spoken to her, eye-fucked her, propositioned her . . . he felt like a complete asshole now. If she was, in fact, telling the truth.
How could a woman who looked like that be a virgin? Things weren’t adding up.
He turned the television off, tired of hearing all the reports about Mendoza that were now in the forefront of the news. It was great publicity, and surely NHN was thrilled about it, but it was overkill. Mendoza had been the most famous drug lord of the early eighties but he probably hadn’t received as much publicity then as he had now.
As he was about to walk into the room to check up on Annie one last time, his phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Monroe, it’s Josef Clad.”
His anger rose again. He closed his bedroom door, not wanting Annie to overhear any of the conversation. “Monroe? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m trying to reach Annie. Is everything okay? She left upset, but it’s not like her to—”
“You sonofabitch,” he snarled into the phone.
“Pardon?”
“How could you do that to your sister?”
“I didn’t do anything to her.” The man was practically growling. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Monroe.”
“I know more than you think. I know she’s hurt and you hurt her.”
“I’m not discussing this with you. You and I have other shit to hash out, like your paws all over my sister.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“You’re my client and she’s my sister, it most certainly is my business. It didn’t look like a pretend kiss to me.”
“Once she came home all banged up, it became my business,” Rocco answered, ignoring the other part of the statement. He didn’t want to explain the kiss to Joey or anyone.
Annie’s brother let out a deep sigh. “Is she okay?”
“She’s asleep, I gave her some pain meds and it knocked her out.”
“Pain meds?” There was silence on the line. “There was . . . I mean, I know the guys took hits from her, but I thought she was okay. Pain meds? Annie doesn’t take pain meds.”
“Well, she has a black-and-blue face and what looks like a bullet wound on her shoulder. She says her ribs aren’t broken, but . . .”
“What?” Joey asked, softly, in shock. “Annie’s my baby sister—maybe I overdid it with the Gridiron, but I did it with good intentions. God, I would never intentionally hurt her. I want to talk to her, apologize.”
“She’s asleep, and I will not wake her up and neither will you.”
The silence was deafening. “I’ll send backup. You shouldn’t be—“
“No. You will not. And you will leave Annabelle alone. When she wakes up, I’ll give her the message and if she wants to call you, she will. Otherwise, if you set one foot on my property I will call the police.” With that, he hung up the phone.
