Page 18 of Rockland

My hands go to my hair. I want to tear it out. I scream, “Stop, this instant! That’s my property. You leave it right where it is and get out of here!”

Her back is facing me and her ponytail sways as she gives a hard shake of her head. “Can’t. Bronson’s orders.”

“What are Bronson’s orders, exactly?” I sneer.

“All the wine in the Village goes to the family cellar in the restaurant till you get yourself under control. Every single bottle.” She’s so fast, she’s already filled one box and is on to the next one.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“Nope. And we’ve all agreed—we’re going dry, too. Especially with Brett’s memorial this weekend. We’re all going to be sober. At least until he gets here, to get you under control,” she snaps.

He who?

Rockland.

The tips of my fingers go to my lips, pressing lightly against them. For a moment, I forget about the wine thief who’s stealing my stash. I see his face. Those gold eyes. The black spirals that mark his hard muscles.

But the mental lapse is short lived, and my temper awakens within me. I dash around the island, almost falling from my lightheadedness. I grab the edges of the full box on the floor beside her, but it’s too heavy for me to lift. I gasp, releasing it. Sasha shoos me away like a pesky fly. Effortlessly lifts the heavy box from the floor, moving it behind her.

How have I become this weak?

She steps closer to me, blocking the box as well as the fridge from me with her body. Her hands go to her hips.

She stares me down. “It’s been two years, Tess. Life goes on. You have to let it.”

I want to slap her beautiful face. Claw out her gorgeous eyes. What does she know of timelines when you’ve lost your husband? Become the lone widow in a Village of lovers? Anger roils in me, making me nauseous. She may be a hell of a lot stronger than me, but I have crazy lady psycho energy on my side. I say, “Get the hell out of my house, now. Or I will make you.”

No longer tugging her hair or trembling over her words, she’s suddenly hard as steel. The tigress is rising in her and she growls at me, “So help me, Tess. I know you’re hurting but I will kick-box the crap out of you right now if you touch me.”

My mouth drops open. I want to scream, to yell. My hands reach out toward her, I want to hurt someone.

To make someone feel as much pain as I do.

I take a step toward her.

Her arms wrap around me, engulfing me. She holds me to her chest. She’s stroking my hair. Rubbing my back. My body racks with sobs. My words choke in my thick throat, but she knows what I’m saying.

“I’m just so damn… lonely!”

Her voice is full of empathy. “I know. I know, sweetheart. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through.”

“I just… I feel like I don’t belong here anymore,” I say.

She pushes my wild hair from my eyes. “Oh, Tess! I hate that you feel that way. We miss you so much, but we’ve been trying to give you your space. We’re here for you. We love you.”

“If you love me, why are you taking all my wine?” I sniffle.

She smiles. “What you need right now may not look like love. But it is… tough love. For a tough woman.” She gives me a tight hug. Holds me at arm’s length and searches my gaze. “Why don’t you go on up to bed? I’ll take care of this and you can just sleep through the whole thing. Okay?”

I nod, sniffling and wiping at my eyes. I turn to leave the kitchen, head up the stairs to my room.

She calls out, “And Tess?”

I turn to her, my eyes blurry from tears. I say, “Yes?”

She says, smiling as her nose wrinkles, “For goodness’ sake, woman, take a shower. You look like crap.”

I laugh. And it feels good.