Page 52 of Rockland

Ice forms in the pit of my stomach at the thought and I push it from my mind.

She got further than I would have imagined. All I saw was the tail end of a fiery red braid leaving the doorway when I heard John shout my name. When I saw the flash of red, I thought it was my imagination—my longing finally coming to a head and creating a hallucination to mend my broken heart. But then I got a glimpse of that ass, covered in the strangest tan shorts, and I knew she was here in the flesh. I called after her, sprinting behind her but damn if that morning running with her didn’t come back to bite me. Fueled by whatever had her fleeing in the first place and her newfound ability, she was so fast I didn’t catch up with her until she fell.

I’ll never forget the way she looked, crumpled amongst the leaves, bleeding from the wound on her head. The translucent lids of her eyes fluttering…

I banish the image. It hurts too much. And it won’t help her to get better.

We’ve got the best doctor in Athens boarding our jet right now. After the boat ride, he should be here within two hours. Our resident doctor is excellent but not specialized in brain injuries and I’m not taking any chances.

Not when it comes to Tess.

I stare at her pale face. The Beauties have done what they can to make her body rest comfortably. Smoothed and braided her hair. Washed her face. Dressed her in a soft cotton gown.

She looks like an angel.

I reach out, stroking back her hair. Murmur to her, “Good girl. You’ll be better soon. You’ll see.” Same as I did for hours as she slept, the night we came home from my brother’s first memorial. I keep watch, my eyes never leaving her face until the doctor finally arrives.

I stand to greet him. The words flow from my mouth, how special she is to me, how imperative it is that he does everything in his power to help her. He’s nodding, ignoring me, moving past me to get to her. I’m blocking his way, impeding his ability to care for her. It’s a strange turn of events to go from being the man others usually look to for their instructions, to now being powerless, useless. Dante comes, takes my arm, and ushers me from the room. I try to fight, to stay, but when Dante whispers in my ear, “It’s what’s best for Tess,” I comply.

I’m outside the room, pacing back and forth down the long corridor. My cousins come to me, offering me whispered words of comfort, food, drink. I decline them all. My brothers come and give me rough, wordless pats on the back, a hand on my shoulder.

I continue to pace.

Dr. Adamos finally emerges from the bedroom. I rush to meet him. Before I can ask of her health, he begins to speak. “She took quite a knock to the head, Rockland. But she’s going to be okay. She’s beginning to wake now. She may experience headaches, some blurred vision but if she begins to vomit⁠—”

I don’t listen to the rest of the speech. As soon as I’ve processed that she’s conscious, I’m pushing past the doctor, the brothers, to get to her.

They know better than to try to stop me this time.

“Tess!”

Her eyes are open and when she sees me, she reaches out a hand. Then, as if stung by a wasp, she snatches it back. Her face crumples.

I kneel at her side, taking her hand in mine. “Tess—what happened?” She’s quiet. All I want in this moment is to hear her voice. I beg, “Speak to me. Princess…”

She stares at the ceiling, her eyes glassy. When she finally speaks, her voice is raspy. “I’m sorry, Rockland. I just want you to be happy. I’ll go back to the Village as soon as Dr. Adamos clears me. I shouldn’t have come here… I shouldn’t have come unannounced. I should have known that you’d have a life here without me⁠—”

I grasp her hand, will her to meet my eye. She continues to stare above her. “Tess, what are you talking about?”

Her head is lolling back on the pillow. Her face pales, exhaustion covering it. Her eyes begin to close as she murmurs, “The woman. The one that made you laugh.”

My brow creases in disbelief as Dr. Adamos arrives at my side. Leaning over my shoulder, he takes one good look at Tess and sends me from the room. “I’m sorry, sir, but it’s too much for her. You’re too much for her right now.”

Shocked, I let them escort me back to the hall as they tell me she needs her rest.

What woman?

Who had I spoken to that morning? It was our usual late morning Saturday brunch. The entire family gathers in my home for food, drinks. To celebrate another good week behind us. I must have spoken to every woman there. How long had she been lurking in the shadows? Or was she startled by the fountain as John thought, then after a head injury, conjured up a mysterious lover in her unconscious mind?

I’m standing outside the room, hands on my hips. Racking my brain. Frustrated, I let out a deep growl, rubbing at my forehead. Adrianna breezes up beside me, her familiar hand lands soft as a bird on my shoulder. She leans over, whispering in my ear, her voice a light trill, “Is she alright? Do you know yet what spooked her?” I turn to Adrianna, her dark eyes wide with concern. She tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear, awaiting my response.

I take a long look at her. Gazelle-like legs that she gets from my mother’s side of the family. When I started the Parish, many of my extended family members wanted in. Their Italian bloodline already predisposed them to the dark hair and olive complexion of our Greek Bachmans. Turned off by the childlessness at the Village, they didn’t show much interest in signing up for mafia life before, when I was stationed in New York. But here, in the Parish, many of my family have joined me and they are thriving.

I have two cousins being tattooed next week, in fact.

Pulling me from my thoughts, Adrianna says my name, concern etched in her voice, “Rockland, will she be okay? Is your Tessie going to be alright?”

“I think I’ve found what sent our little redheaded friend flying.”