by Billy London
“I’m going now because I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” She headed in the same direction as Rocco, in fact, feeding into a perverse need to see how the two of them would behave toward each other.
“Hold the lift,” she called, just as Rocco took a step inside. He held the door with one large hand, and his eyes lightened deviously on Imogen, with baby in tow.
“Imogen Barnes,” he said. “Look at you, rearing the innocent.”
Anna was shocked. Whatever she had expected, it wasn’t that.
“I’ll wait for the next one. Anna, I’ll talk to you when you get your senses back.” The lift doors closed just as the baby started to wail again. Rocco leaned against the closed elevator doors. “So you’re still friends. Really?”
Anna glanced at him edgily. “Sometimes, yes.”
“Forgive me if I find that absurd.”
“She’s made up for it. It was a mistake.”
He snorted a laugh. “It was a fabrication.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, it was a fabrication. You tell me what on this planet would induce me to fuck that?”
“I don’t know, maybe simple availability!” Anna raged. “Oh, look, there’s a pussy, why don’t I stick my dick into it?”
Rocco suddenly crowded her space, and she found herself pressed to the wall of the lift, clutching the support bars. “You knew every single inch of my body. Ask her. Compare notes.”
“Why would she lie about that? Why would she completely ruin our friendship over a lie?”
He shrugged. “Why does anyone do something that makes them infamous in a person’s life? What else does she have going for her? Ask her where my tattoos are. If she slept with me like she said she did, she’ll know.”
“That’s crap, what if I’d told her?”
“Did you?”
Course not, the wonders of his body were all for her and for everyone else’s imagination. “It won’t prove anything.”
He smiled sadly. “My learned friend, I beg to differ. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mimi, the sleek and normally patient Amelia Johnson, looked unimpressed when Anna saw her tapping the rim of a half-empty wineglass. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”
Mimi accepted the kiss on the cheek. “You are taking the blind arse mick with me.”
“I said sorry!”
“Imogen?” she asked warily.
“Funny story,” Anna replied, removing her coat and sitting her bag on the nearest chair. “Imogen came asking for me to babysit.”
“Nothing new.”
“She saw Rocco and called me mad, asking me what the hell I was doing after everything he did to me.”
Mimi’s bottom lip nearly hit the table. “She said what?”
“Oh wait, there’s more. So I’m in the lift with Rocco—”
“Really?”
“Shut up. And he tells me that Imogen made it up.”
“Why?”
“He made out like she’s obsessed with me and she’s trying to make herself an important person in my life. He then said I should ask Imogen where his tattoos are, like that will make any difference.”
“Do you know where my piercings are?” Mimi asked dryly.
“Eww no!”
“That’s because you and I haven’t had sex. Trust me, you wouldn’t forget.”
Anna winced, and then curiosity prompted her. “Tits or kitty?”
“None of your business, but it’s a fair point. Did you compare notes?”
“No. I wanted to forget he and Imogen ever exchanged bodily fluids. Maybe they did it in the dark and he fucked her from behind. Doesn’t mean jack.”
Mimi watched her carefully. “Where are his tattoos, for the sake of argument?”
Anna closed her eyes for a brief moment, and the image of Rocco’s body flashed behind her lids. “He’s got a crucifix over his heart, with In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti written beside it. Then he’s got a gun just over his left hip. And then...right on his...”
“Say it!” Mimi pressed. “Is it on it?”
“No! It’s just above the pubes,” she whispered. “It says chase the storm.”
Mimi grinned over the rim of her wineglass. “When did he get that? Before or after he met you?”
“After,” Anna admitted. Rocco said that she’d known his body. She could have picked out that man’s body by touch and taste alone. When he showed her the new tattoo, she went all hot with pleasure and decided it was her job to make sure it healed properly by carefully rubbing in skin cream with slow strokes of her fingertips. It’d take less than a minute for Rocco to encourage her hand lower, to tell her how much better it would feel—
“Stop reminiscing! And she never mentioned any of them?”
“No. Like I said, I didn’t want details.”
Mimi sighed. “You need to talk to him.”
“No. It’s what happened, it’s over. End of story.”
“It’s not, because it’s right in front of you.”
Anna started to feel frustrated. “Why are you taking his side?”
“One, I’ve never liked Imogen. You know that. Two, you need to put this whole thing to bed. You’re clearly not sleeping properly, which means you’re going to kill his grandmother if she does the smallest thing to annoy you and I don’t want to visit you in prison.”
That blasted old woman. Maybe prison would be worth it. “Shall we order? We have to be at the show in a bit.”
“Side steps,” Mimi singsonged. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable, but you know that you’ll never deal with it unless you actually deal with it. Talk to him last year already.”
“You’re not my friend anymore,” Anna muttered.
Chapter Eight
Rocco looked in the bottom of his bottle of beer. Beppe was pulling notes from a huge roll of cash. “Cannot believe G got us in here for free. Again.”
“You think Gina still strips on the sly?” Beppe asked.
Rocco appreciated that idea for a half second. “Doubt it. She lasted ten minutes, that’s what I can’t believe. Can’t see her trying to slide down the pole and falling asleep before she’s half finished.”
“Good point. Do you think she’ll let me take a sample of blood? I’m thinking about sedatives.”
“No.” Rocco choked a laugh.
“What’s wrong with you?” Beppe demanded. “Is it still Anna?”
Rocco sent him a dirty look. “No, SARS. Yes, of course it’s Anna!”
Beppe ignored the taunt. “Nick can’t wait to be reacquainted, by the way. Get you back for the ‘hot for a black chick’ comment.”
Rocco growled, “He can fuck off about that, I was winding him up. Easiest thing on the planet when it comes to Gina.”
“I do miss those early days. That was fun. Good times.” Beppe sighed. “But you need to be prepared to get it fourfold. I think there were days when Tony was almost in tears when he first met Lyds coz of Nick. He’ll be happy to comedy roast you.”
“Again, he can jog on.”
Beppe rolled his shoulders. “Ah well. It’ll be fun for me anyways. Did you tell her about Imogen?”
“Oh, get this. Imogen was in the office and was all imperious with me. Like she was defending her friend.”
“That crazy bitch wouldn’t know a friend if it slapped her in the face with a dick. Did you tell Anna what she did at your birthday?”
Rocco snorted. “Mate. Even I think you’re lying about that.”
“Why would I lie? No one has ever done that to me. I have never dry heaved like that in my life.” Beppe made dramatic motions with his hands. “You know what? I can feel it repeating on me.”
“Calm down.”
“Would Anna listen to me?”
“Nope,” Rocco said shortly, peeling at the beer label. “But then, today was the first time we’d had a conversation where she didn’t threaten to throw something at my head.”
“Ah, well that can only be a
good thing.” Beppe leaned into Rocco’s view. “Sorry to say, mate, but you may have to treat this like you did cheat.”
“I did not touch that skank.”
“That’s not my point. I mean, does she think at the end of the day that you’re sorry?”
That gave him serious pause. He’d been so intent on proving his innocence to Anna, he hadn’t let her know that if he could have done anything differently, he would have told her he was sorry she’d been hurt. A stripper approached their table, with a glossy smile and perfectly mussed hair. “Private dance for you?”
“No thank you, bedda.” Rocco sighed, taking one of Beppe's notes and tucking it into her g-string. She gave him a wink and moved on. What was it that another beer wouldn’t assist with? “I’m going for a slash.”
“Nice,” Beppe answered. “Think about it.”
“In the minute and a half it’ll take to go and come back? All right then.”
“And cheer the fuck up too,” Beppe called out after him.
Beppe waited until Rocco was two tables away, then removed his friend’s phone. He hadn’t lifted a mobile in years. “Still got it,” he murmured to himself. Humming along to the Britney song that was playing in the background, he pulled up Anna’s number.
Someone answered who was not Anna.
“Is that Rocco?”
“No, and you’re not Anna.”
“No, Interested Party. She’s gone to get us a drink. Tell me where you are and I’ll get her to you guys. Things need straightening out.”
“What a thoroughly intelligent woman you are. We’re at Sun Lounge. Fair warning, it’s a strip club. But to be honest, it was our friend’s idea and she’s a girl, a pregnant one at that, so. Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ve got to go,” mystery woman said slowly. “See you in about half an hour.”
“Later.”
Beppe deftly ordered shots and enough beers to keep Rocco in one place for half an hour. Or at the very least at the edge of passed out. Maybe a little of that powder he’d been experimenting with would do the trick? No, he swore to himself, no more human testing. Okay, just this once. It’d do Rocco the world of good.
Rocco wasn’t drunk, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t feel his legs. “Did you do something to my drink, Bep?”
Beppe was nodding aimlessly at the table. “What? Nah, I didn’t say your mother was fit.”
A very valid fear twisted Rocco’s stomach. “I am going to kill you.”
“It’ll wear off in two minutes.”
“That gives you a head start,” Rocco growled. Beppe took the hint and grabbed his jacket. Struggling to pull himself to his feet, he glanced up from the steady table he still had hands on and prayed he’d stay upright. All right, that couldn’t be Anna—he was hallucinating. There was no way Anna Taylor would be seen dead in a strip club.
“What in the name of all that is fuggery?”
No hallucinations. “Hey, Anna.”
Anna turned to the silken-looking woman beside her. “Amelia Johnson, I am going to kill you.”
“Have a nice evening,” Amelia gurned, turning tail and disappearing.
Rocco lifted his fingers from the table, and his jelly legs completely collapsed from under him so that he found himself sitting down, looking up at Anna. Why did she have to be so beautiful? Her hair was loose to her shoulders, a red halo in the club’s lights, the faintest kiss of golden brown on her full lips and her shirt scandalously unbuttoned to show the bow on her bra.
“Are you drunk?” she demanded, coming to stand beside his table. Her hip bumped the wood and his beer bottle wobbled. His reactions were so slow, he couldn’t save it from overturning.
“Nope, a little drugged.”
“Beppe?” she guessed.
“Never leave a drink alone with him.”
Her frown deepened. “Your friend set you up.”
“So did yours.”
“For which she shall die.”
He smiled and prayed he wasn’t drooling. “She obviously thinks you and I have things to sort out.”
Anna rubbed a hand over her face. “Again, she’ll be executed at a later date.”
He wanted to touch her. God knows, he couldn’t feel the lower half of his body enough to get up and hold her, but at least he could have skin-to-skin contact, even for a moment. Then if she killed him, it’d be with a smile in his heart. “You should have some friends left.”
“I’m running low on mates, yeah, whose fault is that?” she flared. The Bambi-eyed stripper was taking another circuit. She took one look at Anna’s face and carried on walking.
“Annie, sit down a minute?” he asked gently.
“Fuck no.” She closed her eyes briefly. “What do you want from me? What else do you want from me? Haven’t you had enough?”
Rocco caught her free hand and pulled her closer so she could hear. “I want you to forgive me.”
She laughed bitterly. “If you didn’t do anything wrong, why do you need my forgiveness?”
“I did, because you left me. How is that anything but wrong? I’m sorry.” He palmed her cheek, petal soft to the touch, before he carefully lifted the hand tight in his own to his mouth. Raising his lashes, he saw her visibly swallow before she pulled away. The world was wrong. Not just because he realised Anna couldn’t bear to have him touch her, and not because he was pretty sure the knowledge was killing him. Mainly it was because Giuseppe Nardiello had said something right. She didn’t know that he was sorry. If he could take it all back and never, ever see that look in Anna’s face, he would. Without a second thought. He needed the equivalent of hail Marys to wipe the slate clean with her. If she’d ever let him.
“I can’t do this. I’m not.” She turned and disappeared into the crowd. If he could even crawl, he’d be after her right now.
Anna gulped lungfuls of air. She couldn’t cope with a contrite Rocco. It was all too genuine, and she couldn’t be that stupid woman who ignored all the warning signs and walked into a destructive relationship because he said he was sorry. Sorry? What the hell would she do with sorry? Oh God, her heart was collapsing in on itself.
“The sun’ll come out, tomorrow!” Beppe’s rich baritone belted across the car park. “Hello, Annie.”
“Don’t call me that,” she warned, even as she accepted a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek. “You’re such a degenerate, how are you still friends with Rocco?”
“Shameful secrets.” Beppe shrugged. “I’m waiting for the memory loss to kick in and then I’ll go and get him. Speaking of Rocco, why aren’t you friends with him anymore? You know he swore off women for at least two years because of you.”
Anna tutted, “Well then, he shouldn’t have banged my mate.”
Beppe looked at her for a moment, amber eyes dark with secrets. “You really believed he’d do that? Annie, do you understand how important trust is to him?”
“It is now because he was sprung like a chump!”
“No, sweetheart, you know his dad was a serial cheat.”
“Yes, it was obviously genetic.”
“He saw what it did to his mum, and he would never do that to someone he loved. He’d chop a ball off before he betrayed you.”
This was really starting to wind her up. Bros before hos. “My friend had no reason to lie!”
Beppe laughed, slapping his thigh. “That crazy bitch had every reason to lie—she fucking hates you!”
Anna jolted. “What? No she doesn’t.”
“She hated you, trust me. What did she have compared to you? Did she have her own home? No. You did. Did she have a close family who were all Cosby Show around her? No, but you did. I mean your parents actually like you.”
“Er, I never let you near my parents.”
“I spoke to them when you and Rocks were in the hot tub. I reassured them that you had arrived safe and well and you weren’t doing anything that a sexual deviant would be proud of.” No wonder they’d been off with her when she’d gotten back. Be
ppe! “Listen. They weren’t hurrying you to get the fuck out of their home and set up by yourself. You were and I suspect still are happy with yourself, your job, your money, your sexuality. Just for the cherry on the top of the sundae of ultimate my-life-is-better-than-yours, you had Rocky on your arm. Actually, you had him on a collar and dog leash because he would have rolled over for you.” Anna couldn’t speak. Beppe rubbed his temples. “I think I think too much. Do you ever feel like that?”
“Just wait a minute, I mean, he didn’t deny it.”
“What did he say?”
“Trust me.” The one time she let him speak. Because she didn’t answer his phone calls, she also deleted his text messages, destroyed his e-mails and burned his letters and cards.
Beppe shook his head. “He couldn’t deny it, Annie. Because if he wasn’t with crazy bitch, he was with us. If he was with us, then he was doing something pretty fucking bad and then he’d have been fucked.”
“What,” Anna begged, eyes tightly closed, “are you talking about?”
“Okay, if he was at home banging your crazy mate, then he definitely wasn’t anywhere doing anything illegal, so yeah, he couldn’t deny it.”
“What, now you’re saying he lied so he could play boy gangster?”
“No, so he could protect people he loves. Like his father’s stupid arse. Annie, don’t look so upset.”
She was struggling not to burst into tears. “You would stick up for him. He’s the only one who understands you’re fucking mental.”
“Fine, hold on.” He pulled out his phone and with one eye closed he tapped out a text message. “You should be more upset about your crappy friendship.”
“She’s a much better friend now,” she said defensively, sniffing in the chilled night air.
Beppe snorted. “Because she broke you two up. When was the last time you two had a girly pillow fight and talked about your feelings?”
Anna eyed him with distaste. “You know that doesn’t happen.”
“Whine about your feelings?”
“Have naked pillow fights.”