Page 6 of Rockland

Another warning.

He escorts me to the car. Drops me into the passenger’s seat. He gives me a long, hard look. Reaches up to my shoulder and pulls the buckle over my lap. Clicking it in. He throws me one more glance, as if I’ll run off.

He’s in the driver’s seat. His jaw is clenched beneath that beard—I just know it. Fury and sorrow and exhaustion billow within me. But the anger wins out over the other emotions and I direct it at my sitting target.

“Who do you think you are? Dragging a widow from her husband’s burial before he’s even laid to rest?” My fingers clutch the kerchief he’s given me. It dampens from my tears.

“You were ready to leave.” His eyes cut to me as he starts the car.

“How could you possibly know? You never asked.”

“I didn’t need to. I’ve grown quite good at reading you.”

“Reading me? You mean staring at me from across the room with that disapproving look on your face?” Now he gives me one of those familiar glances from the side of his eyes. “See—you did it just then! You think I’m such a problem. Well, guess what? Consider yourself relieved of your duties. I certainly don’t need you looking after me⁠—”

The look goes from general displeasure to something deeper. He rumbles, “It’s not your call.”

He’s infuriating.

But no match for me. I never back down. My voice lowers, my words made of steel. “Rockland Bachman. As soon as this gathering is over, you get yourself on the next plane to the Greek Islands or wherever the hell it is your Neanderthal cave is hiding.” I sniff, turning my body toward the window. Scooting toward the car door and as far from him as possible.

The slightest hint of that smug smile dances across his face.

What does he know that I don’t? What has him so amused?

My stomach drops. I say, “Don’t you dare say Bronson’s enacting the hierarchy.”

“Did you not feel the weight of my sword against your chest?” His tone is equally as icy.

“Did you not see me rip it from my throat and throw it to the ground?” I snap.

He heaves a sigh—the one I’m familiar with. The one that reminds me he thinks I’m a child he’s dealing with. “Tess, it’s just a symbol. You know when a Bachman woman is in the family, it’s forever. And that any woman in our family would be cared for by one of the brothers. The day my brother married you, he clasped the necklace with his sword around your neck—showing you he would lay down his life for you. Now that he’s gone, I take his place in that same way. Protect you, lay down my life for you should you need it. But it’s symbolic, Tess. We all know you’re a big girl who can take care of yourself. You will continue to live your own life, but the sword, the hierarchy, it’s in place to care for you should you need it.”

“I will never, ever need care from you.”

He doesn’t answer me.

I want to keep fighting. I want to stay mad. Do anything to keep this deep sob that’s sitting in my belly from rising. Anything to keep the maddening grief at bay.

I sit back in the seat and sigh. We’re pulling up to my house.

The house where I built a life with Brett.

And now, I live alone.

Rockland

Of all the shitty luck. My brother goes out on a mission and dies of a heart attack.

How many times did I tell him to lay off the burgers? Hit the gym? Our fellow brother, Carter, owns one only a few blocks from the Village—Brett could have gone anytime. Instead, he always brushed me off, attributing my good health and trim body with the fact that I’m ten years younger than him. Not my Mediterranean diet and five-mile morning run, or daily swim in the ocean.

Now I’m stuck, caretaker of Miss Temper Tantrum herself.

Tess—the sexy little redhead my brother has spoiled and coddled for the past five years.

Bronson knew what he was doing when he enacted the hierarchy for this one—she’s out of control.

I sigh as I drive her to the house. I know the hierarchy is an excellent idea in theory—having a line of order so that each of our Bachman women are cared for in the special way of the Brotherhood, should one of us not be able to do so, or in my brother’s case, leave this earth and a widow behind—but Tess’s arrogant nature has always infuriated me.