Sempre (Forever) (64 page)

“Can I?”

He nodded, running his fingertips along her cheek. “Corrado will be there all day and said I could bring you by to visit.”

Her eyes glassed over with tears. She threw herself at him, knocking him back onto the bed.

*  *  *  *

Carmine slid on his Nike’s, watching Haven from the corner of his eye. She wore a blue top, slightly low cut, and a pair of skintight jeans. He wondered what they were all going to think, because she wasn’t the same broken girl who had left Blackburn a year ago.

Standing up, he held out his hand. “Time to introduce your boyfriend to your parents.”

Carmine punched the address into the car’s navigation system, and it led them back down the same remote highway from the night before. After a few miles, it alerted them to a path that cut through the desert. Carmine turned on it, and Haven tensed a fraction of a second before the navigation system announced they’d arrived at their destination. She recognized it, he realized. She could sense it in the middle of nowhere.

Haven’s hands trembled as he drove slowly down the path, her fear so powerful he could feel it where he sat. The ranch came into view, and she inhaled sharply as Carmine parked behind Corrado’s rented black sedan. A woman on the porch glanced at the vehicle and bolted inside when he made eye contact.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Haven said, shaking her head so frantically it nearly made him dizzy. “I can’t be here.”

“Listen and listen good,
tesoro
. We’re about to get out of this car, and I know it won’t be easy. It’s gonna make you remember shit that’s happened. I know that, because every time I’ve gone back to Chicago and seen the alley I was shot in, I’ve lost it. You may wanna run as far away from this place as possible, but you can’t. You can’t run anymore. I was wrong when I even suggested you and I run away, because it just gives power to the people chasing you. You can’t let them control you. You can’t let them win.”

She stared at him intently as she took in his words.

“You’re strong, Haven. It may not feel like it right now, but you are. These motherfuckers tried to tear you down, but it didn’t work because you’ve built yourself up. Have you seen yourself lately? You’re a force to be reckoned with. You’re tough and passionate, and you can’t let these people get to you. That’s what they want.”

The anxiety in her expression was being replaced with something else. Carmine knew the look anywhere. It was determination.

“So we’re gonna get out of this car, and we’re gonna go in this house, and we’re gonna tell these people to kiss our asses, because they can’t touch us. And you’re gonna go out there and tell your mom you love her, because you deserve that chance.”

Having said everything he could say, Carmine got out of the car. Haven stepped out after him, cautiously scanning the property. He groaned at the heat, the sun shining brightly and nearly blinding him. Grabbing his sunglasses, he put them on and unbuttoned his long-sleeved green shirt. “Fuck, it’s hot.”

“I remember it being hotter.”

“Well, I’m about to burn up here,” he said, walking over to her side of the car. Gazing into her eyes, he leaned down and softly kissed her.

She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re sweaty.”

“I told you—it’s hot as Hell.”

“It is Hell.”

He gaped at her. “You just cursed.”

“Hell isn’t a curse word.”

“Yes, it is.”

She shook her head. “It’s in the Bible, Carmine. If you spent more time reading it and less time tearing pages out of it, maybe you’d know that.”

He started laughing, but a slamming door interrupted the moment. Haven went rigid at the noise as Carmine glanced up at the porch. Something about the man standing there struck him as familiar, his eyes a deep brown that Carmine knew well.

Leaning down, his lips beside Haven’s ear, Carmine said, “If this is Hell, does that make him the devil?”

Chapter 40

Michael Antonelli stood on his front porch, a glass of whiskey in his left hand and a lit cigar in his right. He wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t blinking. He didn’t even appear to be breathing.

Haven stared at him, stunned by how utterly unchanged he looked. It had nearly been a year, but seeing her old master in his khaki pants and polo shirt, too tight around his bulging gut, made it feel like no time at all had passed.

He seemed surprised. Haven continued to stare at him, trying to get a read on his mood. His brow furrowed as he stared back. It dawned on Haven that he was confused because she hadn’t yet looked away. They’d been trained to keep their heads down, their gaze on their feet. She’d gotten beaten many times for doing exactly what she was standing in the yard doing, but that didn’t deter her. The longer she gazed at him, the more her fear lessened. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. He held no power over her and never again would.

The tense silence was broken when the door behind Michael opened, jolting him back alive. Blinking rapidly, he moved out of the way as Corrado stepped onto the porch. “Carmine, Haven... nice to see the two of you again.”

Carmine nodded in greeting. “Uncle Corrado.”

“Sir,” she said quietly.

“Are you enjoying your trip?” he asked.

The nonchalance of the question seemed strange to Haven, but Carmine didn’t appear to be surprised as he answered. “It was a long drive. Other than that, it’s been fine. Well, except for the fact that I feel like I’m being boiled alive.”

Haven smiled involuntarily at his complaining, and Corrado actually laughed. “It isn’t that bad. Isn’t that right, Haven?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “The heat is—”

She intended to say it was bearable, but loud stomping inside the house cut her off. The front door thrust open and Katrina burst outside, wearing a tan dress and a pair of matching high heels. “Where the hell did Clara go?”

Haven flinched at the hostility. Katrina froze, her face twisting with disgust as she spotted her. “What’s she doing here?”

“Kat, you remember Haven,” Corrado said. “And have you ever had the opportunity to meet Vincent and Maura’s son, Carmine?”

Katrina’s appearance shifted from hatred to alarm as her eyes darted to Carmine, the color draining from her face. She turned and ran back into the house.

Michael looked at the door his wife had just disappeared through with bewilderment, while the smile on Corrado’s face hinted he might not have been as far out of the loop as the rest of them. “Are you going to invite the kids in, Antonelli, or do you intend to allow my nephew to stand here until he bursts into flames? You’re being quite rude. I invited them here under the impression that you remembered how to be hospitable.”

“Oh, yeah!” Michael stuck his cigar into his mouth and opened the screen door. “Come inside.”

Carmine started for the porch, sweat pouring from his flushed skin, but there was no way Haven could go into that house. “I, uh… I need a minute.”

“You can have all the time you need,” Carmine said. “This is your show. If you wanna leave, just tell me and we’ll leave.”

“I don’t want to leave, but my mama…”

A look of understanding crossed his face. “Do you know where she’d be right now?”

“I have an idea. I’m guessing she doesn’t know I’m here, since no one else seemed to know we were coming.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe Corrado didn’t tell them.”

“He seems to enjoy throwing his weight around,” she said. ”Usually Mas—, uh, Michael is the one barking orders at people. It was kind of nice seeing it reversed.”

Carmine chuckled. “Yeah, Michael depends on Corrado too much to ever cross him. Plus, you know… no one’s stupid enough to fuck with Corrado. He can be scary.”

“Michael treated your father the same way,” she said. “I’d never seen him look afraid of anyone until the day Dr. DeMarco showed up. I didn’t know what to make of it. I couldn’t imagine what kind of man I was leaving with if Michael was scared of him.”

“Yeah, well, someone needs to put that motherfucker in his place,” Carmine said, running his hands down his face. His flush was growing, the sweat pouring off of him. “He was probably afraid my father would clip him, too.”

“What does clipping mean?”

The corner of his lips turned up into a nervous smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

She was about to press him to explain, but a loud commotion rang out nearby that stopped her before she could get any words out. Startled by the disruption, she turned around. Her breath hitched the moment she saw her mama standing at the corner of the house, a bunch of metal buckets and tools lying in a pile at her feet.

Unlike Michael, she looked different. Her dark hair had streaks of gray, and wrinkles lined her weary face. She wore a dirty gray shirt that swallowed her skeletal frame and a pair of shorts that exposed a set of startlingly thin legs. Her mama had always been skinny, but it was beyond that now. She was a shell of her former self.

“Haven?”

The sound of her voice was like hot iron striking Haven’s chest, taking her breath away. A sob escaped her throat, and she yanked her hand from Carmine’s to cover her mouth.

Feet started moving on their own accord, frantically carrying Haven to her mama. Their bodies collided, and her mama lost her footing as she wrapped her arms around Haven. They both fell to the ground, her mama’s embrace strong despite her frail body.

Her hands frantically traveled Haven’s back and ran through her hair as she clung to her. “My baby girl! You’re here!”

“Yes,” she choked out. “I’m here, Mama.”

Her mama pulled from the embrace. “Why are you here?”

“It’s okay,” Haven said. “No one’s going to hurt me.”

“You can’t be sure! You know how they are!”

Haven tried to smile through her tears. “Don’t worry. They brought me here so I could see you.”

“Is your master here on business?”

“No, I just told you—they brought me here to see you.”

“You’re here to visit me?” Her hands explored Haven’s face. “I don’t understand. Are you sure? It doesn’t make sense.”

Haven went to speak, wanting to explain that it wasn’t like that with the DeMarco’s, but her mama gasped before she could. “Oh no, baby! No, no, no! How can they do this to you?”

Haven stared at her, perplexed as to what she was ranting about, until her mama placed her trembling hand against the side of her neck. It struck her that she’d seen the mark Carmine left, and she grabbed her hand. “No, Mama, they don’t hurt me!”

“Don’t lie to me, Haven! I know what that is!”

“I know, but it’s not like that. Carmine accidentally did it. He didn’t mean to leave the mark.”

“Who’s Carmine?”

“He’s Dr. DeMarco’s son.”

“Your master’s son does that to you? Oh, Haven!”

“But it’s not like that! I love him, Mama.”

She stared at her, blinking rapidly. “You love him? This is bad, baby girl. This is dangerous! You can never let them know!”

“Stop,” she said, her mama’s panic causing her anxiety to flare. “He already knows. He loves me, too.”

“He loves you?”

“Yes, he does. He’s the one who brought me here.” Haven looked over at the car, wondering where he’d gone. “He was just here a minute ago.”

“How?” Her mama shook her head. ”Haven, he’s—”

“Wonderful,” she interrupted, knowing whatever her mama said would be wrong. “He’s treats me like a treasure, and he’s giving me a life.”

Her mama gaped at her. “A life?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “The kind of life you always wanted me to have, Mama. Carmine’s giving it to me.”

They sat on the ground for a few minutes longer, neither speaking after that was verbalized. Her mama’s panic lessened, the look Haven had seen growing up slinking back in.

Hope.

Eventually, Haven stood up and helped her mama to her feet. “These are nice clothes,” her mama said, giving her the once-over. “I hope they don’t get mad you got them dirty. You can blame me.”

Haven sighed and blocked her mama’s hands as she tried to brush the dirt away. “It doesn’t matter. They’re different.”

Tears welled in her mama’s eyes at the statement, but the banging of the screen door stopped her from saying anything. Michael stepped onto the porch, and Haven’s stomach grew queasy at the sight of him. Michael stepped forward. “Miranda.”

No good ever came from being singled out. Frenzied, Her mama gathered the things she’d dropped. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m supposed to be in the garden. I’m going now.”

Michael put his hand up to stop her. They both flinched at his sudden movement. “Don’t interrupt me. The girl’s here with guests, so work can wait for now.”

Haven stared at him. That wasn’t like Michael at all, but it made sense when Corrado stepped out behind him. Michael nodded at him, grumbling under his breath as he headed back inside.

Corrado gave Haven a quick glance. “Carmine wants me to tell you he’s inside if you need him. I assured him you’d be fine, but you know how he can be.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at her mama and nodded before going back inside.

“I can’t believe you talked to him,” her mama said. “He never speaks.”

“I know, but he’s Carmine’s uncle.”

“You see these people where you are?”

“Not often,” she said. “His wife visited twice, once on Christmas and again when Dom graduated. Corrado came along that time. That’s when he vouched for me, because they wouldn’t let Dr. DeMarco.”

Her mama just stared at her. “What?”

Haven realized she had no idea what she was talking about. “I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?”

*  *  *  *

They spent the next few hours walking around the property as Haven told her mama about life in North Carolina. Most of the conversation centered on Carmine as she explained all the experiences he’d given her, from the first piece of chocolate to bringing her there.

Her mama listened, transfixed as Haven told her about celebrating Christmas, watching fireworks, and going to a school dance. She described learning how to drive and walking into a classroom to test for a GED.