Page 42 of Rockland

I can still smell her on my skin.

I pour a cup to go and I head out the door. I need to clear my mind.

Reset my emotions.

Remember why it is I’ve come here, and what I need to do.

Work always puts things in perspective. What we do in the Brotherhood is high stakes. Your mind has to be all in or you’re dead.

And I thrive in those conditions.

I leave the house. Hop into Thunder. Roar the engine, bringing her to life, and head to work.

I make a mental checklist as I drive. I have a few favors to do for the family before I leave. They involve the gun, the knife, and the masking tape I have in the glovebox of my truck. I love my brothers, but there are a few weak links here in the Village. A few that prefer suits to black leather gloves. A handful who want to faint at the sight of blood.

She wonders why it is I never have a shirt on when she comes home. The simple answer is that they’re often stained. Red blotches of our enemies not easily removed. Best to destroy the evidence.

No matter. I’ve no issue completing the hard tasks. The messier ones. The ones that have weaker men losing their breakfast on the toes of their boots. I’m quick about it. No need to cause a scene as long as the end result comes. I’m not one for speeches or drawing out screams. I show up. Take care of the problem. Let the younger guys dispose of the evidence and go on with my day.

I’ve got a ten o’clock with a hacker in the Bronx who keeps trying to invade our system, find our accounts. From there I’ll head over to United Nations to deliver a generous donation (bribe) to keep our New York connection with the Parish strong and our air paths clear. No bloodshed with that one so I’ll probably grab a quick lunch.

Then the final task. The one with the knife. Ending the life of a man who has assaulted one of our women. That one I will enjoy.

Back to Bronson to report the deeds done and home by dinner.

Where I wonder if Tess and I will cross that line once more. Exploring one another’s bodies and tasting heaven. I push her beautiful body and husky voice from my mind—just the thought of the sound she makes when she climaxes is making me hard—and focus on the tasks at hand.

The day is longer than I thought. I complete my missions. Finish up, hit Barbells for a quick workout then shower and change clothes. Now I’m driving to Bronson’s. I park the truck and make my way up the stairs. The door opens before I even knock.

Bronson stands in the doorway, the lines on his face creased, his eyes dark. “Come in.”

I step inside and he shuts the door behind me. He says, “It’s just us, I’ve sent Paige to Mary’s. Have a seat.”

We sit down in his immaculate kitchen, each taking a black leather barstool. I have the sense he has something important to tell me. Something he thinks I may not like. I say, “Missions are complete.”

A bit of relief washes over his face as he thanks me. Then he says, “We’ve got to get you back to the Parish. Now.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. I’ve known they’d come but I thought I had more time. I say, “What’s going on? Surely if there was a problem, my people would have contacted me.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing like that. Good news, actually. We’ve gotten an opportunity to purchase an adjacent island. Another just like what we have—registered as uninhabited. Private airways, waterways, the whole bit. I want it for… storage.”

Storage. Our key word for hiding the mass of weapons we collect. “Say no more.”

“And I want you to oversee the purchase. But we have to move fast before any other buyers get word it’s up. I don’t want people poking around and I certainly don’t want any flashy billionaires, rock stars, or some other idiots who’ve just gotten a payday snooping around our island. This transaction is vital to the protection of the Parish.”

I nod my head. Ignore the tearing in my chest. “I understand.”

“How soon can you leave?” he asks, his dark brow knitted at me.

I shrug. Hide the emotion from my face. Carefully arrange my features, the limbs of my body into a stance of indifference. I ask, “How soon do you need me to?”

He gives me that look Bronson saves for when he wants something done immediately. He says, “Yesterday.”

I say, “I can be packed and on the jet in three hours.”

He gives me a long look. Twists the ring on his left hand. Clears his throat before speaking. “Do you think Tess is stable now? Will she be able to assimilate back into Village life without you here to care for her?”

A hard lump sticks in my throat and I fight to swallow it back. I tell him the truth. “She’ll be fine.”