rise to my feet. I felt a strong, warm hand close around my arm. I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come out. I felt him hoist me up, as effortlessly as if I was a doll. I swear I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly, my entire body was leaning against his for support.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I glanced up and my eyes collided with his ocean blue gaze. Jesus! That eye contact felt like being seared with a branding iron. I jumped away from his hold and stood on my own two feet. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” I muttered awkwardly, then looked around for the dog. “Mickey,” I called. He came to me and I picked up the handle of his leash.
Angelo said nothing and I couldn’t for the life of me think of anything to say, so I limped away. Not towards the house as a normal person who’d been injured would but away from it. It was just pride.
I knew he watched me as I walked and I couldn’t recall ever feeling so painfully self-conscious.
But even pride couldn’t make me walk on my bruised ankle all the way to the old tree, so I just headed towards my Nonna’s pride and joy, her garden. I was surprised to see how much it had grown and matured since my last visit. It was a sight to behold. Filled with a mixture of fruit trees, flowering plants and herbs. The oranges, lemons and kumquats were ready for picking and the blood red roses were also in flower.
I sat on the bench by the pond. I patted my knees.
Mickey jumped up into my lap and curled up in it.
It was very peaceful here with the sound of water running down stacked rocks to empty into the clear pond, where rosy red minnows and koi swam amongst the broad green lily leaves. I watched the fish as they glided in never ending circles.
Eventually, I turned and glanced behind me. I thought he would be out of sight.
No, he was leaning against one of the trees. His hooded gaze unapologetically zeroed in on me.
My lips stretched into a nervous smile. “I want to explain,” I said. “About yesterday.”
Just as I expected he didn’t respond. It was rude and I could feel myself getting irritated, but I removed my gaze from him and continued, “I know I was wrong, for trying to get away, especially for the way that I tried to do it. It put too many people at risk, but I had my reasons.”
I heard him sigh.
“Anyway, it won’t happen again,” I announced. You weren’t wrong in trying to escape, my heart cried out. But my realization of the real tragedy that could have befallen my friends from my decision to run away still filled me with remorse. Perhaps someday soon, I’d get over it and try again ‒ this time making more elaborate plans and making sure no one else was in harm’s way ‒ but for now, I was physically and emotionally spent. I was ready and willing to do all that my father asked, without even the ghost of a complaint. I went on, “A-and I'm sorry about the hug earlier. I was just thankful, and uh … remorseful at seeing your injuries.”
He remained rudely silent, which was really beginning to get on my nerves. I turned my attention to stroking the sleeping dog on my lap.
“What about you?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t you have injuries from last night?”
I stared over at him in astonishment. Did he care I was hurt? Don’t be silly, Sienna. Of course not. He thinks you’re spoiled garbage. I shook my head. “No, other than a few bruises, I’m fine.” I turned my face away then. Mostly because my cheeks were turning red, a sight he especially did not need to see, but also because holding his piercing blue gaze actually made my toes curl.
The silence ruled between us again, but I could no longer contain the desire to speak to him. I turned around to face him.
His gaze seemed to be set into the distance.
It sure sent me a message: having to guard me was possibly the worst thing he wanted to be doing right now, which perversely made me even more curious about him. Who is he? And how did he become one of the guards in my father’s camp? “Since it seems like we are going to be spending a bit more time