Sempre (Forever) (41 page)

She shook her head. She wasn’t aware of much of his life. Carmine alluded to the things his father did, but he never elaborated.

Dr. DeMarco continued after a moment. “I’ve watched it happen too many times to count. I’ve witnessed men ordered to murder their own family, and they’d either do it or die themselves. I wasn’t kidding around when I told you the man that visited the house was my master, just as no matter what I do, you’ll continue to see me as your master. Because I hold the key to your survival, just as Sal holds the key to mine. I wasn’t much older than Carmine when I got involved, and I was just as stupid then as he is now. He has no idea what it is he’s getting himself into with any of this—neither of you do. And that’s why there’s nothing happy about my birthday.”

She was too stunned to speak. He stared at her quizzically. “Did you acknowledge your birthday in Blackburn?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what day it is.”

His brow furrowed, and Haven waited for him to say something, but instead he just picked up his pen. She figured the conversation was over and reached for the book to pass the time when Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out once more, paralyzing her. “Are you in love with him?”

The book slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. “Who?”

She knew who he was talking about, but she wasn’t sure how to answer. Was there a point in lying when he’d never believe her?

“You know who,” he said. “Don’t pretend to be dumb with me.”

She felt the bile rising up at his demanding tone. “Yes.”

He stood after a moment and grabbed a black case. Haven’s heart racing as he sat in the chair beside her. He pulled out his laptop and set it on the desk. “Carmine asked me if you had a tracking chip inside of you. I wasn’t happy he was inquiring about it.”

“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to tell.”

“That’s not why I was unhappy. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not he knows. What matters to me—what worries me—is the fact that he’s so interested. The only reason I can come up with as to why Carmine would risk confronting me is if he’s contemplating doing something that would be affected by your chip. And the only scenario that makes sense is my son taking you on the run.”

She sat frozen as Dr. DeMarco opened a program on his laptop. “I’m not going to run away, sir. I swear.”

He held his hand up to silence her before punching a few numbers into the program. A map popped up, a red dot flashing in the center of it. “The problem is that you’ve been around some of the most dangerous men in the country. Because of that, you’re desensitized to moderately harmful situations. I love my son, but he can be volatile. I was the same way at his age, and I know what results from that. I’m not a horrible man. I have a heart, and as much as you may love my son, I recognize he cares for you in return. He’s an idiot if he believes he could’ve fooled me. I’ve been trying to let nature take its course, hoping everything would fix itself, but Carmine’s growing impatient. He’s digging himself in deep.”

He pointed at the dot on the screen. “That’s you. No matter where you go, all I have to do is open this program and punch in the code, and it’ll give me your location. Running is only going to get someone hurt, and I can’t let that happen. I’d try to explain it to Carmine, but he’d want answers I can’t give him—answers he’d be better off never hearing. So instead, I’m telling you. If you recall our previous conversations, you’ll remember I expect your loyalty. If you go on the lam with my son, I’ll take that as a betrayal, and I’ll track you down and kill you if I have to. I don’t want to, but I can’t sacrifice him. And if you two are stupid enough to try to disappear, Carmine will end up hurt at the end.”

She stared at him, frightened. The last thing she wanted was for Carmine to suffer.

“You’re walking a fine line right now, and if Carmine crosses it, I’m going to step in. I don’t like keeping secrets from my son, but his safety comes first. Because these secrets? They revolve around you.”

He turned off the laptop and returned it to the bag before sitting back down in his chair. Haven remained quiet, trying to absorb what he’d said. She couldn’t imagine what the big deal was, but one thing she was certain about was that too many people had been hurt because of her. Carmine couldn’t be one of them. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Dr. DeMarco said. “I’m walking a fine line myself by trying to distance my son from this lifestyle. When I vowed my life to the organization, I swore they would always come first. Little did I know, years later, they’d expect me to just hand my son over to them. Sal views Carmine as the
Principe
, a Mafia prince, and if he finds out I speak out against them, he’s going to see me as a traitor. Do you know what the punishment for treachery is in my world? What happens to people when they forget their place?”

She flinched at his choice of words. “Death.”

“So you see the predicament I’ve found myself in. You’re helping my son in ways I’ve failed him, but you need to realize that I'm trying to save him too. I’m saving him from something he doesn’t realize he needs saved from. I just haven’t found a way out of this without somebody getting hurt, a way where someone doesn’t have to be sacrificed.”

He looked at her, awaiting a response. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask, but she was so taken aback that she couldn’t get the words to form. The last thing she wanted to do was anger him by asking the wrong thing. “I understand, sir.”

He grabbed his pen and started sorting through papers, and she watched him for a moment before picking up the book from the floor.

Hours flew by. Before Haven knew it, there was a loud knock behind her. Dr. DeMarco started to speak when the door opened.

“How many times do we have to go through this, Carmine Marcell, before you stop entering rooms without permission?”

Haven sat still, staring straight ahead at the desk, and felt the skin on her neck prickling as Carmine plopped down in the chair beside her. “I thought I had permission. You told me to be here.”

Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “Give me your car keys.”

Carmine tensed. “Excuse me?”

“What is it with you kids acting ignorant? Give me your keys.”

“This shit again?”

“Son...”

Carmine pulled out his keys and threw them on his father’s desk. They landed on a pile of papers, and Dr. DeMarco picked them up before tossing a different set to Carmine.

Carmine looked at him with confusion. “Why are you giving me the keys to the Mercedes?”

“Because it’s not yours.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I figured you’d prefer to start with someone else’s,” Dr. DeMarco said, “but if you’d rather her start with the Mazda, by all means take your keys back.”

Carmine shook his head. “You aren’t making any fucking sense.”

“Watch your mouth,” Dr. DeMarco said. “If you’d stop being defensive, you’d see I was telling you to teach the girl how to drive.”

Carmine’s eyes widened. “You’re fucking kidding me?”

Dr. DeMarco groaned. “Sometimes I want to knock the shit out of you, son.”

“You realize you’re cursing at me for cursing, right? What kinda role model are you?”

“Not the type of role model you need. Do what I say, not what I do. You’re too good to follow in my footsteps.”

“Too good to be a doctor?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

There was a subtle sadness in Dr. DeMarco’s expression that struck Haven hard. Up until then, she hadn’t been able to sympathize with him. She could understand him now, could see his fears, and the most startling part was they wanted the same thing.

How was that possible? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“Doesn’t seem so bad,” Carmine said. “Look what it’s gotten you.”

“Looks are deceiving, son.”

“You’re telling me,” he said. “So, why are we at the hospital? Implanting shit? Running more tests? Or let me guess—it’s a secret?”

Dr. DeMarco’s expression flickered with the same aggravation Haven had seen earlier in the day. “You kids should get going. I have patients I need to see today.”

He walked out, leaving Carmine and her alone. They sat quietly for a moment after the door clicked closed before Carmine stood up. “It scared the hell out of me when I saw you sitting here. I thought I was gonna have to sucker punch him and grab you and run.”

His words brought back everything Dr. DeMarco had said. Last week, Carmine had told her he’d put her safety above her desires, and she knew now she needed to do the same. She didn’t want him to get hurt, and if that meant giving Dr. DeMarco her loyalty, she’d do it for Carmine.

Because she’d rather sacrifice herself than for him to suffer a single moment because of her existence.

*  *  *  *

Haven stepped off the curb and paused beside the passenger door to the car. She and Carmine stood there silently for a second before he cleared his throat. “Why are you over here? You’re driving.”

“Now?”

He jingled the keys in front of her face. “Yeah, why not?”

She took them. “But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” he said. “See the black thing with the big ass red button on it? Push—”

Before he could tell her what to push, she hit the red button. The lights started flashing as the horn blared. He hit the button to stop it as she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

He nodded, realizing this was about to be a disaster if they couldn’t even get the doors open without a mistake. “It’s fine. You see the button with the picture of the opened lock?”

“Yes.”

“Press that motherfucker.” She pressed it, her face lighting up when the car unlocked. He smiled at her expression of pride. “Good. Now get into the car, but don’t touch anything.”

Haven climbed into the driver’s side as he got in beside her, and Carmine laughed when he saw how far the seat was back. He used the controls to adjust it so she could see over the dash and reach the pedals.

She put on her seatbelt and glanced at him, her eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you going to wear yours?”

“Do I ever wear it?”

“No, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Driving is a piece of cake,” he said. “You can’t be that bad at it.”

“Whatever you say.”

“That’s right—whatever I say. And I say put the key in.” She stuck it in the ignition. He waited for her to turn it but she didn’t. “Are you going to start the car or what?”

She glanced at him nervously. “You didn’t tell me to.”

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Haven turned the key and the engine roared to life, but she continued to hold it so it kept grinding. “Christ, let go before you burn the starter up or something!”

She pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I should’ve told you, but I figured you’d at least know that much.”

“I can count the number of times I've been in a car on one hand, Carmine. I know nothing about them.”

“I didn’t think about that,” he said. “Look—gas to go, break to stop. R is reverse to go backward, D is drive to go forward, and P is park... to fucking park. Side mirrors, rearview mirror—you look into them to see what’s around. Got it?”

“I think so,” she said. “What about all of the signs?”

“Stop at the big ass red octagons that say ‘stop’ on them. The rest aren’t really important. And if the stoplight is red, you stop at the white line on the road. If it’s green, you keep going. It's common sense.”

“What if it’s yellow?”

“Uh, if the light’s yellow, just speed up to get through it before it turns red. I hate waiting.”

“Okay.”

“All right then, baby. Put this bitch in reverse and back up.”

She grabbed the gearshift, pulling it in reverse, and took a deep breath before hitting the gas. The car jolted backward as she whipped it around, nearly running up on the sidewalk. She slammed the brake hard, and they stopped abruptly. Carmine clutched onto his seat. “Christ, I said hit the gas, not floor it. Just press lightly.”

She nodded, putting the car in drive, and pressed the gas. They started through the parking lot to the stop sign, and she hit the brake hard, jolting them again. She stayed there, and he started to grow impatient, wondering why she wasn’t going anywhere. “If there’s nothing coming, you can go.”

She sighed. “And where am I going, Carmine?”

“Oh, that way,” he said, pointing left.

She glanced both ways before turning out onto the road, and Carmine wondered why she hadn’t signaled until he realized he forgot to explain them. She got into her lane, and her hands trembled against the steering wheel. They neared a yellow light, and he expected her to hit the brakes. Instead, she slammed the gas and ran straight through it after it turned red.

“You just ran a fucking red light, Haven! Red means stop!”

She cut her eyes at him. “But you said I should hit the gas when it was yellow.”

“Yeah, if you can make it through, which you couldn’t.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

He had no answer. How was she supposed to know when he hadn't told her? He felt bad for snapping and glanced out of the windshield in enough time to see her heading for a mailbox. “Oh, fuck!”

He grabbed the steering wheel and turned it sharply, the side mirror clipping the mailbox. Haven slammed the breaks, the car skidding to a stop on the side of the road.

He let go of the wheel. “Let’s see if we can try this again. I’ll shut up and quit distracting you, and you just pay attention to the road.”

He knew he was going about it wrong, but like with her reading, he didn’t know how to teach something that came naturally to him. He grabbed his seatbelt and put it on, waving his hand and silently telling her to go.

Haven pulled back into the lane and hadn’t driven more than a hundred feet when she came to a yield sign. It struck him at that moment that he hadn’t told her what it meant, but he was too late. She blew right through it without even slowing down.

Tires screeched, and Haven screamed as she slammed the brakes in a panic. Carmine knew that was the last thing she should do when she’d just cut off a car. He told her to hit the gas again, and she clutched the steering wheel tightly as her eyes welled up with tears.