Tara would have guessed in a moment like this, seeing Ori bleeding, she would have been inconsolable.  Instead, she found a cold numbness settling in.  It started when she shot at the men and had gotten worse at the sight of her lover’s blood.  Tara helped Jo as best as she could to get her into the car as quickly and gently as possible, but it was no easy task.  Oriana was all muscle, dead weight.

A crowd was starting to gather; Jo looked around frantically, then ran off inside a store. Tara just stared at Ori, lying in the back seat. Was she even breathing? Tara couldn’t make herself check- at least not before Jo ran back out of the store she’d run into.

“Go! Drive! North! We need to get to Rome!”

Getting back into the car, Tara realized she had to drive.  She couldn’t hold Ori or try to save her, there was a nurse who was better able to do that with them.  She had to trust Jo and she had to get them to safety or it wouldn’t matter if the bullets took Ori or not.  

“The plane,”  she finally found her voice again.  “We have medical supplies.  It’s over two hours to Rome from here in the car-”

“You have the plane?! Go there! I’ll try to take care of her.” Jo climbed in the back seat with Ori.

Only occasionally looking into the back seat through the mirror, Tara navigated the roads by memory as best as she could.  Just as she was about to start to panic, the airport was in sight.  The plane had never looked more beautiful to her.  She drove straight to the hanger, not bothering to stop for anything or anyone.  She would not be kept from that which might save Ori’s life.  Happily, Patches had a pair of men ready to help them carrying Ori onto the plane.

Jo walked right behind where they were carrying Ori, with her mind half-lost already in what she’d have to do.  Tara was staring, she hadn’t said much of anything.  Her face was pale, more than a touch distressed, but silence was all that was coming from her until Ori was safely on the plane.

“Can you save her?”  She finally made herself ask.

“I don’t know,” said Jo quietly as she and Tara followed the men toward the medical room. “I need your help.”

Tara nodded dumbly, “Whatever you need, whatever she needs… my life if it would help.”  She wished that it would. She wished it was her not Ori who was bleeding everywhere. It should have been.  She’d been the one who had delayed, Ori wanted to go. She’d done this to Ori. She would never forgive herself.

“On her stomach!” shouted Jo. The men had been about to deposit Ori on the table face-up. They twisted her, placing her on her stomach. Ori had gone pale. Jo had cut off Ori’s blouse; the only things staining her back were her bra strap and the bullet holes. One was higher up, near her left shoulder. The other was low on her right side near her hip.

Jo took a deep breath and put her hair up, rubbing her hands in alcohol and telling Tara to do the same. 

“Her skin looks like milk.”  Tara whispered, mostly to herself as she washed her hands in the alcohol, looking over to Ori as she did so.  “She’s never looked like that before…”

“The lower one missed the intestine, thank God, or there would have been nothing to do.”

“Thank God.”  Tara agreed. “What do I do?”  She asked realizing that if Jo was having her wash her hands in alcohol that meant she’d be touching Ori near her wounds… perhaps, in them?  She winced and tried not to think about what might be coming, what might need to be done to save her.

Jo studied the higher wound. “This one… looks like it clipped her lung. Could be punctured. If it is… you’re not flying anytime soon with her. But let’s hope it gets to that.”

Jo took a deep breath, trying to decide between the two.

“My grandfather had his lung hit before, twice I think,” said Tara, "He lived.  So, it’s something she can make it through… right?”  She nodded to herself, trying to reassure herself.  After all, Oriana had to be at least as tough as Grandpa Gavin, right?  “Maybe that’s why she’s out like this?  Can she breathe?”

“She’s still breathing, but it doesn’t sound good.” Jo frowned, wishing for the thousandth time that Doc Magniotti was here. “I can’t fix all this, Tara. Even here. I’ll get her stabilized, I hope, stop the bleeding, but it’s a short term fix. She needs a surgeon.”

“Maybe my parents know someone, a doctor nearby.  I can call them…”

“Tara, that was the Italian Army out there- not a mob hit. You’re all going to be hunted for this. You need to go underground… Rome is the only option I can think of. Renato is a player there.  But it has to be someone he trusts; any doctor in the city right now would just turn you in.”

“It’s hours away…”  Tara didn’t ask if Oriana could make it that long.  She couldn’t bear to hear any doubt in Jo’s voice.

“Two. I know. Let me stabilize her. She can make it for a couple hours.” I think.

Tara leaned down to Ori’s face and kissed her lips.  “I’ll get you to Rome.  Please just stay with me, Ori.  Don’t go.  Just a little while and we’ll have you somewhere safe.  I swear.”

Taking a deep breath, Jo removed the sloppy bandaging she’d done in the car and worked for a while, cleaning and attending to each wound. “Keep pressure on the lower one, keep it from bleeding too much.

Taking another deep breath, Jo removed a tampon from the things she’d run into the store for and stuck it into the bullet hole on Ori’s side.

Tara moved down to the lower wound and without hesitation put her hands over it.  Feeling the warm and sticky substance which now coated her hands, she tried not to think about it being blood.  In fact, Tara tried her damnedest not to think of anything at all… nothing except preventing Ori from losing any more blood and any other order Jo would issue.

Jo examined the lung wound and froze. She seemed indecisive for a moment, then did the same thing she’d done before. Then she shook her head.

“I don’t know, Tara. She needs major surgery, multiple days of attention. I don’t know anyone in this city who can do that. We need to drive to Rome. Or halfway. Have your pilot call Renato and have things set up.”

Tara closed her eyes tight and then drew a breath.  “Patches. Where you can you land this plane between Naples and Rome… or fuck… just… find me a god damn truck!  We are NOT letting her die. I’ll carry her to Rome if I have to, do you understand!”

“Tara…” Jo spoke softly. Even on the hunt for Francesco that had taken months, she’d never seen Tara like this. “We can’t fly. Ori can’t fly.” Jo looked in Tara’s eyes, then the nurse turned to the pilot. “Find a phone, call this number. Tell the man who answers that you need to speak to Renato Cambio. The person who answers may not speak English. Just be insistent until you talk to Renato. Tell him to get a surgeon and a hospital set up outside Sperlonga as soon as possible; we’ll be there in… as soon as we can. Do it now, then get your plane out of the country before the army shoots you down.” 

Tara brushed her fingers through Ori’s hair, looking down at her blood-drained face, helpless.  “I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I’m so very sorry…”

Jo looked at the men who’d carried Ori. “Go get a truck. One with a flat back; throw a mat down, blankets, whatever.”

“We have blankets.”  she said numbly, remembering the plane had much of what they needed.  “We can take some things from here. Make her comfortable at least. As much as possible.”  She kissed Ori’s brow trying to ignore how cool she felt to the touch.

“Let’s move. Now,” snapped Jo, getting the men to move.

***

The team of doctors was waiting for them in the villa outside of Sperlonga, along with Renato and a half dozen men. They quickly moved Oriana into the room they’d hastily set up as the operating area and got to work. 

Tara could smell the ocean.  They were near the sea, though she could not see it from this place which Renato had set up for them.  She hadn’t said much to him since arriving, a hug, a brief thanks and then she began pacing.  Praying.  In her hands she held a crucifix necklace she often wore.  She rubbed her thumb across the smooth back, feeling Christ’s body pressing into her hand hard.  It almost hurt.  She wished it hurt more.  Ori was right.  She should have listened.  Renato tried to save her.  Why hadn’t she listened?  What good had she done anyone?  She thought she was being kind to a man who was dead now, thought she was being kind to her lover who might die… what have I done?
Jo limped out of the room and made her way to Tara, sliding into the seat next to her. Renato was on Tara’s other side, his brow furrowed in concern.

Jo looked exhausted. They’d been operating for two hours, even if it had only felt like fifteen minutes to Tara.

“Okay,” began Jo. “She’s alive… the damage is repaired. But they had problems fixing her lung. There was a lot of damage. If she makes it through the night, she should be fine. She’ll be out of commission for a while, but a full recovery isn’t out of the question. She just needs to hold on while her body heals.” Jo reached out and took one of Tara’s hands in hers. “What can I do for you?”

Tara’s eyes were red with weariness and unshed tears.  She shook her head slowly.  “I … Ori’s all that matters.  I’ll rest when she’s okay.  Did… Patches get the plane out of Italy?”  She asked not sure if they knew.  Had the woman left when they did?  What happened?  So much blurred together now.  Was it a day ago they left Bacchus, or hours?  

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Jo frowned, half-looking like she was about to cry herself. When Laurent had died on the operating table, Jo had washed her hands until they were raw, but it was days before she stopped seeing the blood on them. For now, she tried to hope as much as she could.

“Ren?”  Tara whispered.  

“I’m with you, Tara. So is Jo," said Renato. "I think she should go rest… but one of us will be here with you as long as you are.” Jo nodded.

“I was going to ask you, if we could trouble you for a place for Jo to sleep.  At some point my body is going to stop and I want her rested when that time comes.  I know she’ll take care of Ori when I can’t. Can you help her find a place to rest?  I’ll be fine here until you come back. I just… I can’t leave Ori right now. I can’t leave until they say for sure she’ll be okay.”  she turned her head to look at Ren, “Maybe we could find some coffee?”

“This villa has six bedrooms. And coffee can be arranged,” said Ren.

Jo stood, wobbling slightly on her feet and handed Tara a brown paper bag. “This is all the stuff she had on her. Personal effects.”

“Thanks.”  She said taking the bag and opening it to see what was inside.  There wasn’t much. A knife. Some money. An engagement ring on a silver chain.

Tara pulled out the ring and the chain and examining it she sighed.  “Rest well, Jo.” Staring at the ring, Tara sat in silence alternating between guilty thoughts and silent prayers.  Both said with equal parts fervor.

***

“Taa?”  Billy’s voice caused Tara to lift her head.  She blinked at the sight of him standing in the doorway. 

“Dad?”

The man opened his arms to her and Tara leaped up and ran to him.  “You shouldn’t have come.  Mom needs you.  Things are -”  

“You needed me.  I’m here.”  He petted her hair the way he used to when she was upset as a little girl and for a long moment she let her father’s massive arms hold her while she cried.  

“It’s all my fault.”  She sobbed finally finding her voice.

“It’s the fault of soldiers and the man who sent them.  No one else, Taa.  Oriana will tell you that when she wakes up.”

“If.”  Tara whimpered.

“When.  She’s young and strong.  Do you know how many bullets your mother has taken?  Or her father?  No.  She’ll be okay and when she is she’s going to tell you that you’re being silly.  You’re going to get upset with her because she’ll push herself too hard and too fast to be out of the bed - and everything will be just as it was.”  Billy wiped Tara’s tears from her cheek.  “You’re just tired Tara.  You need to sleep.  When you wake up, the sun will rise and everything will be better.  You’ll have a big breakfast and you’ll know just what to do, just like you always do.”

“I messed up…”  Tara shook her head.

“You are so your mother’s daughter, Kiddo.  Look, even if you did mess up, just don’t do it again.  Oriana will be okay.  You’ve learned something.  You’ll be smarter and better next time.  Just… close your eyes for a little while.”

Tara leaned her head against her father’s barrel chest and closed her eyes.  He was warm and here she felt safe, like everything he said might actually be true.  

Blinking, Tara lifted her head from her father… no… Ren’s chest.  She’d fallen asleep on Ren.  “Ori?”  

“She’s okay.”  Ren said, the morning light just beginning to come through the windows.  Tara looked towards the rising sun and drew a breath. It was the first sleep since leaving home where she didn’t dream of saying goodbye to her parents.  Though, all things considered, that was probably understandable. And yet, her father’s presence had seemed so real that she had honestly thought he was here with her now for a moment.

“Is… is there a phone here?”  she asked Ren. “I should call home.  I know it’s the middle of the night, my parents won’t mind.  They’ll want to know what happened to Oriana.”

Renato helped Tara get a cup of coffee and took her to a phone.  She called home and after the fifth ring she hung up and stared at the sun coming over the rocky shoreline out the window.  Taking a moment to breathe she called Brigitte’s apartment. Renato became concerned as she hung up and dialed a third and then a fourth number.  Aunt Addie hadn’t answered. Catalina hadn’t either. There was only one reason for all of them not picking up. There should have been bodyguards, men on duty even at this hour.  

“... do you want me to call a friend in New York?” asked Ren.

“I have…”  she swallowed the lump in her throat.  “One more number.” She had to dig into her bag for this number.  Pulling out the book of addresses she kept in her things she’d pulled off the plane she paged through the book and entered the number one carefully selected digit at a time.

“Hello?”  Gavin’s voice.

Tara sobbed.

“Hello?”  Gavin tried again, waiting to hear whose voice he was hearing.  She knew the line was about as clear for him as it was for her.  

“You’re in Port Huron.”  Tara said softly.

“Tara.”  Gavin sighed.  “Are you okay?”

She nodded and then voiced, “I’ll be okay.  I’m alive. Have… are you okay?”

There was a long pause, his voice was kind but had that edge to it that was dutiful in giving a direct response when requested.  It was the sort of thing mom liked, the sort of thing Gavin did. The facts. Honest. Sometimes brutal… but his heart made them sound kind.  “Victoria, Mal, Izzy, Jack, Sage, Cerise… all with me and accounted for.”

Always with the win.  Could have said he lost Indigo, Azure and Brigitte somewhere along the way.  He wouldn’t though.

“I’m not going to be back for a bit.  Oriana is hurt. She’s recovering. Do you have money?  Food?”

“We have the briefcases.  Dad showed me where they were.  I grabbed them all. We’ll be good for a long while if I stick with the basics.  Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I didn’t get shot, but no… I’m not the least bit okay, Gav.  It’s been a shit day already and I just woke up. Anything else I need to know?”

“Cerise and Sage are keeping an eye out, I told them no one would look for us here but they’re not listening to me too well.”

“Let them.  In fact, ask them to keep doing it.  There’s no harm, especially if it makes them feel safer and keeps them out of trouble.  Settle in. You could be there a while.”

“Brigitte was with Mom and Dad.”  he finally offered.  

“I’ll call to check in again, tomorrow maybe.  Let’s hope she meets up with you. Are you sure you got everything handled, Gavin?”

“No.”  He admitted, “But that doesn’t matter now.  I’ll figure it out. Take care of Oriana. Come home soon.  We need you.”

Tara nodded, “As soon as we can travel.  I promise. I’ll call when I can.”

“Love you, Taa.”

Tara sighed.  “Love you too, Gav.”  She hung up the phone and sunk into a nearby chair.  She looked to Ren and simply said, “They’re gone.”

Ren’s mouth dropped open slightly as he moved to sit next to Tara.

“I’m sorry, Tara. I’m so sorry.” He took her hand and a deep breath. “Can I do anything for you? Help with anything?” He asked, knowing the answer was almost certainly no, but he asked anyway.

“My sister Brigitte.  She was with my parents.  I doubt they escaped whatever happened but, you might put the word out to keep an eye out for her.  With your friends in New York.  She might need help.  My brother and my other siblings they’re safe, but if Brigitte is hurt or something she’s all alone.”

“I’ll make some calls. My practical reach doesn’t extend much past Italy… but I’ll do what I can.”

“It's more than I can do from here.  I will try a few family friends I have in this book.  My parents might not have burned every bridge they built, no matter what happened in New York.  With luck, Brigitte wanders into the house sometime today and maybe things aren’t as bleak as they feel right now.  I think could probably use another coffee.  It’s going to be a very long day for me.  And… breakfast, if our gracious host has anything to spare.”  She gave him a weary smile, “Thank you, for everything Ren.  Again, you are my MVP.  The Godfather made a smart call picking you.”

Ren patted Tara’s knee. “I have a reputation to maintain, don’t I?” He froze as a doctor appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Mastrosimone?” asked the doctor.

Tara stood abruptly, the calm she’d wrapped herself up inside for the news of her family, wavered.  The dam holding her emotions back threatened to break as she waited for the doctor to speak.

“I wanted to update you on Miss Montini’s condition. Her lung has stabilized and her wounds are avoiding infection so far. Her lung function seems to be returning to normal. Things are trending in the right direction, but…”

Tara took hold of Ren’s arm, fearing she might faint.  Relief washed over her entire body, and she felt weaker than she had in a very long time.

“But?”  She said holding her breath.

“There’s no need for concern yet,” said the doctor. “But we tried to wake her and failed to do so. We didn’t do everything, I should be very clear about that. It’s quite possible that your friend is stubborn, that her body knows it needs to heal. There’s a small chance, though, that there’s something else wrong. We can let her rest. Or we can try to force the issue- force her awake. At this point, there’s no medical necessity with either option.”

“Let her sleep.”  Tara instructed. “I’ll come to sit by her bed soon.  When you get worried about how long she’s sleeping, we’ll try something to wake her, but rest assured Doctor, Oriana is stubborn.  Without a doubt. And I’m sure she probably just wants to sleep more. Let’s allow her body the chance to heal, if you don’t think there’s a need to worry yet.”

“Of course. We’ll have someone on standby, of course. The team will reassemble fully in a few hours to check in with her again, although you should call us immediately if she wakes up.”

“I’ll have you sent for the moment she opens her eyes.  Thank you for saving her, Doctor. I can’t tell you how much your gifts mean to me.  If you ever need anything from me, I am in your debt. And I don’t just mean the bill.”  She smiled, trying to make a joke in the wake of so much somberness.

She looked to Ren, “Food and coffee.  Then I need to sit with Oriana. I’ll… put my thinking cap on about how I’m going to get us back to the United States before every crook and thief on the east coast steals my family’s legacies from I and my siblings.”

Ren frowned. “That’s a tall order; Jo mentioned Oriana can’t fly. You could leave her here with us, of course.”

She shook her head, “My grandfather had his lung punctured in Russia.  He took a steamer back to the United States. We’ll do the same I think.  Ori doesn’t even need to be fully healed for that. They have doctors on the ships.  She can rest in a bed. We’ll figure it out. I’m head of my family now, I can’t leave them.”

“A good plan. I can help you organize it, but…” Ren looked uncomfortable. “I… well, get your coffee. Then we’ll talk strategy.”

“Ren?”  She called after him.  “I know the Godfather of Rome won’t do whatever business he was doing with my father, with me.  If that’s what’s bothering you… there are other ways to make sure he gets what he needs without dealing with me.  We’ll figure it out. Whatever my father promised the Godfather, I’ll see he gets it. I’ll see that it’s done. You have my word.”

Ren stopped, returning back to Tara. He seemed bothered, but he wasn’t in the business of lying to his friends. “Tara… it’s not that the Godfather wouldn’t do business with you. But your father ran New York. You…” Ren shrugged apologetically.

“I see.”  She said. “Well, if I can’t be of help to him, I understand if he needs to look elsewhere.  These days, friends are going to be at a premium, I think. For you… for me. But if he decides my father’s money and guns or whatever is still needed… you gave me Oriana back.  I may not have a city full of Soldato but do have wealth and connections. And you need friends. And I owe you. So… you have my number.”

“Tara, I’m not insulting you. At least not me personally. I’m your friend. I’d take a bullet for you, and I’ll always bet on you. But right now… you don’t have anything in the States. If you’ll permit a tired old friend some blunt speech… stop thinking like a Don. You’ve got some money and resources, I’m sure. But when you go back to the US, you’re starting over, basically. We were looking for a large organization. You don’t even have a small crew of your own. And I was going to mention… if you get caught here in Italy, I will be taking that bullet for you, either from the army or the Godfather. We can’t just book you a ship. We’re going to have to smuggle you out of the country. Maybe France.” 

Ren sighed, resting both hands on Tara’s shoulders as he looked at her steadily. “You’re not alone, Tara. You’ve got me. Jo. And Ori. But think short-term. Take care of Ori. Take care of your family… save the international alliances for another day.”

Tara nodded.  “You’re right about almost everything.  And I’ll take your advice as my friend - but as my friend, I need you to know that regardless of what I have or don’t have, my family doesn’t forget things like this.  I’m no one today.  Ren, I won’t be no-one forever.  I will remember what you’ve done for me.  I swear it.  And I’m not offended… I’m only offended that you’re right and I have nothing to give you for all this kindness.”  She swallowed.  “But one day.  I will.”

“You’ve given me a lot, Tara,” said Ren. “And friendship doesn’t have a balance sheet.” He dug into his pocket, retrieving a piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to Tara. “Sorry if I sound nervous. It’s because I’m nervous.”

Tara glanced down at the sheet of paper, scanning through some name, dates, and titles, to the content.
 

Three women escaped from the targeted zone. Initially believed to be prostitutes, one of them demonstrated advanced combat ability by killing a squad of ten soldiers inside a moving vehicle. They should be considered extremely dangerous; if encountered, do not engage them, but simply call for overwhelming reinforcements. 

A rough description of Oriana, Tara, and Jo followed. 

“They’re looking for you, Tara.,” said Ren.

Tara nodded.  “France then. I hear it’s nice this time of year?”  She tried to make him smile. She put a hand on his arm.  “I’m not going to let them shoot you, Ren. If you catch a Godfather’s bullet it won’t be because of Ori, Jo, and I.  We’ll do whatever we have to in order to leave quietly and quickly.”

Ren nodded. “I know. You just… Jo and I were worried about you yesterday. You weren’t yourself. We wanted to make sure what we said sunk in.”

“I got Oriana shot.  I’m not going to put that one aside.  I fucked up a lot yesterday. I’m better now.  Just… tired. Heartsore.”  

“You didn’t-” Ren stopped himself. “Go get breakfast, Tara. We’ll talk about the other things after. But this isn’t your fault.”

“She wanted to leave Bacchus immediately.”  Tara said. “I took her to his bedroom. We fucked all day… because of me.

“Because of Bacchus. He shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m a big girl.  I made my decision.  I wanted to give him and Ori something neither of them needed and it -  it was stupid. If I’d done as she asked, we would have been out of there an hour after you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can.  And I do.  I fucked up.  I endangered us all and the only good thing about it was leaving when we did, how we did, we found Jo.  Other than that, everything about what I did yesterday was one long shit show after another.”

“For all you know, that attack was in place all day. I have…” Ren paused. “Look, I don’t want to hit you with too much here. But I have a couple sources quietly telling me that they rushed things- moved the timeline up to try to hit you as a secondary target- because someone in the government has something against your family.” He sighed. “It’s quite possible that if you left an hour earlier, everything would have happened then. But unless you’re blaming yourself for not being omniscient…” He shook his head. “Go get breakfast, Go see Ori. We’ll have time to talk later, if you want. Jo should be here; she’ll know how to get through with things I don't.”

Tara gathered herself up, a cup of coffee and breakfast and eventually found her way back to Oriana’s side.  Settling into the chair beside her bed she quietly ate breakfast and sipped her coffee.  The information from home wasn’t real yet.  She knew it was true.  She just didn’t feel it.  Maybe it was the worry for Oriana or the feelings of anger at herself, or the challenges ahead of them in the immediate, but the rest of it all was just too distant to digest.  

With each bite of breakfast Tara’s head became a little clearer.  Slowly the coffee woke her senses and she began to review the events leading her to this place and time.  Bit by bit she considered what she should have done, and what might yet play out as a result… as well as what person in the Government might have pushed things forward as revenge against her family.  Of course, only one name came to mind.  She would deal with that later, if it didn’t sort itself out.

For now all that mattered in the immediate was here, in the bed beside her.  Once she was finished with her breakfast she carefully picked up Ori’s hand and held it in her own.  “Did I ever tell you that I think scars are attractive?  I mean, I’m not as taken with them as Nona Bella, but there is something special about them.  They show us where we’ve been.  Stories.  God, Ori I’m not going to be able to look at you without thinking… about how stupid I was yesterday.  How right you were.  I should have listened.  When you wake up, I'm going to start listening more and shut my damn mouth a bit more often.”

She wet her lips, “We can’t fly home.  Your lung is fucked up.  Going to be a while before you’re in top form again.  I’ll have to be gentle with you.”  Tara leaned down and kissed Ori’s hand.  “But I’m going to get you out of this hell hole country.  My parents were right… nothing good ever happens when someone from my family comes to Italy.”  

“I can think of a few good things,” said Ori, wincing.

She hugged Ori’s hand to her heart.  “Someone call the doctor!”  Tara called out with a brightness to her tone she hadn’t had in almost twenty-four hours.

“Oh God, Ori - don’t move or anything.  The doctor he’ll need to look you over.  That soldier did a number on you.”

“What happened? I remember jumping.”

“You were a lovely, wonderful fucking idiot hero.”  She sighed shaking her head.  “You just had to go proving you were serious and actual take bullets for me.  Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?  Well, I … ”  She kissed Ori’s hand.    

“Where are we?”  asked Oriana.

“Sperlonga,”  Tara replied. “We drove here.  The Godfather’s surgeon came to save your life.  And thank God he did because… you… you were pretty bad.”

“I’m fine.” Ori moved, shifting like she was preparing to get out of the bed. 

“Bullshit.  Your lung collapsed damn it.  Lay still! I won’t have you getting up until the doctor says.  We didn’t save you just to have you die here from some post-operation injury.”

Ori, as if suddenly remembering something, reached between her breasts, then raised her hand to her neck.

“I have it.”  She whispered.  “Do you … I can put it on you if you like.  I’ll bring your knife too.” She knew the last one would make her more comfortable.

“I... “ she paused. “I think I lost my guns. On the truck.”

Tara sighed.  “We’ll get you new guns.”  She stood up and went to get the brown bag.  Bringing it over to the bed she reached inside and pulled out the knife.  Offering it hilt first to her she gave that to her first. Oriana slid it under her pillow. 

She then pulled out the necklace and the ring.  “Lift your head.” She said and waited.  

Oriana, frowning, lifted her head. 

“Well, here you go.”  She put the necklace on Oriana.  “Safe and sound. So… the plan in simple.  Once you’re clear to move, as soon as it’s safe…”

“Go back to New York, watch your parents throw a giant pile of money at me again when they hear about the truck story?”

Tara stared at Oriana, but contrary to what would be normal, her open mouth closed slowly and her eyes fell.

“What happened? How many days was I…. what happened?”

“I should go get the doctor.”  She said softly and standing up.

Ori lunged forward, grabbing Tara’s shirt. Her grey eyes drilled into their target. “What happened, Tara?”

“I don’t have the details yet, but New York fell.  My parents are gone.  Azure.  Indigo.  Gone.  Brigitte… probably her too.”  She shook her head. “Gavin and the rest of the kids are safe and accounted for.  I can’t find Cat.  I have people to call, but I haven’t even started on that because we’ve got our own problems here in Italy.  We’re far from out of the woods and your injuries aren’t the only issue we’re facing.”

Oriana fell back on the bed. Her eye twitched at the mention of Brigitte, and both eyes widened at the mention of Cat. Ori took a deep breath. 

“I know we both have our reasons for needing to get back, but we have to take things one step at a time.  We can’t look back.  We can’t worry about what’s ahead.  We have enough to deal with in this moment.  We’ll deal with it together.  One step at a time.”

The team of doctors appeared at the doorway. Oriana looked at them, then nodded at Tara. 

“Do what the doctors tell you.  I’ll make some more calls and see if I can’t get some answers while we wait for Ren to make his arrangements for us.  Jo should be by soon.”

Oriana just nodded. There was a strange look in her eye, one Tara had really only seen when they buried Francesco Bianchi.

“I’ll be fine. Go make your calls. I’m sorry, Tara.”

“Not the time.”  She said echoing Ori’s words from yesterday.  “We’ll mourn when we’re safe.  I’m afraid we’re not yet.  So, get well.  I’ll get us what we need to get back …”  She stopped herself from saying ‘home.’   “ … to the States.”

Oriana nodded.

***

Tara, in the middle of making her calls upstairs, sat behind the desk with her head in her hands. All the news was bad. Everyone was saying that- Tara froze. Were her ears playing tricks on her? No, shouting from downstairs. 

Tara took out her gun and sprinted down the hall, grabbing the railing and skidding around a corner to take the stairs down two at a time. She could hear the shouting.

“Just do it!” shouted one of the doctors, sounding strained. Then there was the sound of breaking glass.

When Tara reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Oriana sprawled out on the floor. Two of the doctors had pinned her down. One of the others was holding a needle and panting with his hands on his knees. 

“I… I’m sorry, Miss Mastrosimone. We had to do. She became violent, tried to force her way out. We couldn’t…” A couple of the doctors seemed injured, though no one was bleeding. 

Tara leveled her gun at the doctor trying to explain, “What did you give her?”  She growled.

“A sedative. Knocked her out. A few hours.” He pointed at the red spot at Oriana’s side. “She opened one of her stitches.”

“If Oriana wanted to escape and was willing to attack you, you’d all be dead, do you know what she did to a dozen trained soldiers in a moving vehicle?  If you think I believe for one second that you’re not on the take and trying to take her back to the government - then you’re as dumb as you look. Turn on your friends and maybe I don’t shoot you all.”  Tara was most certainly NOT joking.

The doctors all began to look concerned, and they raised their hands in surrender. The chief surgeon spoke again.

“Miss Mastrosimone...  your friend… she is very sick. I have no doubt of her combat ability, but-”

Jo and Ren both arrived around the same time, both looking disheveled.

“Ren,” said Tara.  “you got some bad people here and I’d hate to fuck up our host’s nice floor with dead bodies… but Ori could have killed them even in her state - no one is bleeding.  They’re lying.”

“Tara… put the gun down,” said Ren. His voice was gentle and he moved toward her. Jo’s hands were at her mouth, staring wide-eyed at Tara.

“Ori wouldn’t leave me right now.  I know her.  She wouldn’t.  She couldn’t.”  Tara snarled through tear-filled eyes.  “They’re lying.  They gave her something… if they hurt her...”

“Tara… do you trust me?” asked Ren, walking toward her. “Give me the gun. Please.”

“You said it yourself, they know what she did.  They may have guessed who she is… they took her from me once.  They…”  A tear raced down her cheek.

“Tara, this surgeon… he’s the Godfather’s brother. He’s not dirty. And if they wanted her, they could have taken her. Killed her on the operating table. You’d never know. Or the army would be here....” Ren walked in between Tara and the doctors,  hands spread wide. “You’re not well, Tara. You need to sleep. You need to process. Ori, your family… the stress of this situation… I understand. It’s okay. But… please put down the gun.”

“Ren… I’m scared.  I don’t want to be wrong again.”  She said with a quivering lip.  “I can’t … I can’t be wrong again.”  

“Tara,” said Jo. “You don’t need to drop the gun. Can you at least point it away from Ren and the doctors?” 

Tara lowered the gun.

“Can I come to you?” asked Jo. 

“Help Ori.”  she said quietly.

“I’m trying to, Tara.” Jo looked scared. “This isn’t you.”

“Stop talking like I’m crazy.  My whole family was just … Oriana was shot.  Bacchus was… god… there are people here who want us dead, I THINK I’m justified in my suspicion of just about everything.”

“Tara, I watched these doctors save Oriana’s life. They were in surgery for eight hours, manually draining and refilling her lung, repairing the damage. And I know them.”

Tara looked at Jo’s eyes and then Ren’s.  “Why would she leave me … now?”  She dropped the gun and sobbed uncontrollably.  

Jo immediately ran to Tara and hugged her, speaking in her ear as Ren ran to the doctors. “Ori’s not well, Tara. She’s still drugged up, not thinking clearly. She’s not herself. Neither are you. I heard about your family and…” Jo was crying too, and she brought Tara into her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Tara. You just need some sleep.”

Tara clung to Jo and wept. “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry…”  Whether she was speaking to Jo, Ren, the Doctors or someone else remained unclear.  She would later reflect that it was all of the above.

Amidst the faces of fear, anger, grief, and concern, Oriana Montini’s face was singularly calm as she bled onto the floor of the villa in the morning sun.

***

Tara woke up listening to the sweet sounds of poker chips getting shuffled. She blinked, lifted her head, and found herself sitting at a table with several people. 

“She’s awake.”

Blinking and lifting up her head, Tara looked in the direction of the voice, but someone else spoke to her before she could pin it down.

“Where am I?”

“A poker game.”

“What… what happened in Italy?”

“Bad shit only,” said at least four voices in synchronization.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Tara looked around to see who she was playing with.

To her left sat a roguish looking man wearing a suit; his dress shirt was open to his neck, and his sky-blue eyes studied Tara carefully.

To his left sat a beautiful woman in a red dress; her doe-like eyes seemed to bounce between Tara and the man sitting between them.

The next player was a woman staring at Tara; she was older, wearing a green dress, and her brown eyes seemed to house a formidable intelligence.

Turning to the other side of the table, Tara smiled at her parents.

And next to her, Oriana stared at her.

Tara blinked. 

“... did we… die?”  Oriana asked.

“Only if I’m dead.”  Tara said smartly, looking at her cards, “And I’m pretty sure I’m still alive since I’m pissed at you.”

Oriana bristled and opened her mouth to respond, but the blue-eyed man just shook his head. “Don’t bother. You’ll never win.” He smirked. 

The lady in red clicked her tongue but said nothing.  She shifted herself slightly in the seat so that Tara was sure she put her leg closer to the man beside her.

“This is a dream, then,” said Tara, trying to sound confident.

“I told you she’s smart,”  Aurora said with a smile. 

“She gets that from both of us,” said Billy, draping his arm around his wife.

Aurora giggled and pecked her husband on the cheek, trying to steal a look at his cards.

Tara saw Oriana reach between her breasts. No ring. But… no wounds. No pain.

“They drugged me,” said Oriana. “When I tried to leave. Well, they must have given me the good stuff.”

“Yep,”  Tara said in a coarse voice, tossing her ante into the pot.  “When you tried to leave…”

The lady in red looked at Oriana and then Tara and then back to Oriana before turning her gaze to Aurora, who was still flirting with Billy as if no one else was there.

“I wasn’t thinking,” protested Oriana. “I was just… I’m fucked up. I told you that the first time I met you. The second, if you count the time I had a knife at your throat.”

“No,”  Tara said flatly.  “Fucked up is… putting a knife to my throat in the first place or trying to kill my mom…”

Gavin looked across the table at his daughter with a raised, curious eyebrow. Aurora shrugged.

“... or running off to Italy to your crazy ex-boyfriend and staying to save a dozen other girls and get revenge, fucked up isn’t leaving me immediately after I tell you that we’re in over our heads - in danger still and my family is dead.  I needed you!” 

“That’s why I fucking left,” said Oriana.

“Tara,”  Aurora said in a cautionary tone before tossing in her ante.

“I keep thinking you’re talking to me,” said the brown-eyed woman in green as she studied her cards.

“Rora.”  The woman in red gave the same tone back to Aurora.  “They’re working on things. Let them talk it out unless you intend to be in the middle of their relationship forever.  You need to know when to step back and let the kids work things out for themselves like your Dad and I did.” The lady in red looked to the man beside her who hadn’t said a word yet and she immediately began to justify herself to him.  “Well, I was gone. I couldn’t butt in. But you did fine staying out of things.”

Gavin shrugged. Then he smiled.

The lady in red looked to the lady in the green dress, “We really need better nicknames for the kids.”

“Taa.”  Billy threw out.

“Where did that come from anyway?”  The lady in red asked.

“Gav.”  Billy replied.  “He was really little and was missing some teeth.  He used to call her Taa and it became a joke that sorta stuck.”

“I like it,” said Tara Byrne. “The only nicknames I received from my sibling tended to be less… endearing.” She smirked at her brother. “Tara Byrne, by the way. It’s nice to finally meet my namesake. We’ll have to talk more, if we have the time.”

“Speaking of the Scab.”  Aurora said, “Am I to assume Will’s off chasing Angie’s skirt again and that’s why he’s not here for the weekly game?  I mean, not that I’m complaining, I actually have a shot of winning with him gone.”

Bella laughed, “Dear, neither you nor I have any hope of winning this game.  Your father has it on lock I think.”

“Well,” said Tara Byrne. “My best analysis of the situation is that since Tara, Oriana, or both are currently imagining this, it’s their memories that are largely generating us. They’ve both read your very detailed journals, dear niece. The other, less flattering interpretation is that we’re all dead, in some sort of purgatory or hellscape, and Will is the only one who didn’t-”

Aurora blushed.  “We’re clearly dreams imagined up by the girls, and-”

“I get that a lot,” said Gavin.