“Yes.”
“That motherfucker! Does he know what they were doing?”
“Possibly, but none of that matters right now,” Vincent said. “Squint has his eyes set on the girl, so she needs to be watched for that reason.”
It didn’t make sense to Carmine, but he knew his father wasn’t going to tell him anything more.
* * *
“Just relax,” Carmine said softly, pulling out a chair for Haven as they made their way to the table for dinner that night. He took the seat beside her, and Haven remained still as they bowed their heads for a prayer. They helped themselves to food but Haven only took a little, too anxious to eat. She scooted the food around on her plate with her fork, alarmed, as she tried to ignore Nunzio’s gawking from across the table.
“So, Carmine,” Salvatore said, attempting conversation. “You’ll be eighteen in a few months. Any plans for the future?”
Haven peered at him, curious. She, too, wondered what his plans were, but Carmine merely shrugged, offering no answer.
Dr. DeMarco cleared his throat. “Carmine can do what he wants with his life, but I like to think he’ll hang around here until he graduates.”
Nunzio laughed mockingly. “School’s useless. What’s a diploma gonna get you these days—a job at McDonald’s? There’s money to be made out there, and no piece of paper from some school will matter a bit when it comes to it.”
Dr. DeMarco spoke up again, his voice sharp. “A diploma may not matter in our line of work, but it’s not about a piece of paper. It’s about finishing what you started, being dedicated and not selling out. Nothing is worse than an opportunist.”
“I wouldn’t call it being an opportunist,” Nunzio said. “It’s wising up and changing priorities.”
“Your priorities shouldn’t change when you’re on a path you swore you’d stay on,” Vincent said. “Carmine’s mother would want him to see it through.”
Nunzio shrugged. “But Maura’s not here anymore, so why does it matter what she’d want?”
Dr. DeMarco jumped to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. “Don’t even say her name, scarafaggio! You never disregard your family!”
Haven tensed, her heart feverishly pounding and making her dizzy. Salvatore grabbed Dr. DeMarco’s arm and forced him to sit down. They went back to eating without another word, strained silence overtaking the room.
“So, Haven . . .”
Her name spoken in the high-pitched voice made the fork slip from her fingers. It clanged against her plate, and she winced at the sound. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Salvatore. She wanted nothing more than to blend into the background, wishing she could be overlooked.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Salvatore said. “I’m just curious how you’re finding life with Vincent. As hidden away as you were, I wondered if you were a figment of the imagination.”
“The DeMarcos are kind to me, sir,” she said quietly. “They treat me fairly.”
Salvatore nodded. “That’s great to hear. If I had known the Antonellis acted so cruelly, I would’ve stepped in. By the time Vincent informed me, it was too complicated to intervene.”
Before Haven had the chance to make sense of what he had said, Carmine interjected. “What the f**k are you talking about?”
Dr. DeMarco groaned. “Mind your manners, son.”
Salvatore shrugged. “Perhaps I’ve said too much. Forget I brought it up.”
“You can’t say some shit like that and then say, ‘forget about it,’” Carmine said. “If you knew one of your own abused a kid, why didn’t you do anything?”
Salvatore glanced at Dr. DeMarco, who subtly shook his head.
“Michael Antonelli is hardly one of our own,” Salvatore said, turning back to Carmine. “There are certain rules that govern this life—rules you can’t disregard because you don’t like something that’s going on. Personal feelings have no place in business.”
Nunzio let out a bitter laugh from his seat but offered no opinion.
The strained silence returned as Carmine glared at Salvatore and his father. They seemed oblivious to the looks, both of them instead focusing on Haven.
She cleared her throat, unable to take it. “Thank you for your concern, sir.”
Under his breath, Carmine mumbled, “Don’t f**king thank him.”
* * *
Haven lay with her head on Carmine’s shoulder later that night as the two of them watched a movie in her bedroom. She ran her fingers down his forearm and stroked the back of his hand before turning it over and tracing the creases of his palm. His fingers twitched as she grazed the tattoo on his wrist. “Do you really believe that? Trust no one?”
“I used to,” he said. “Until you came along.”
She picked her head up to look at him. “You trust me?”
“Yeah, why does that surprise you?” he asked. “I let you sleep in my bed and be around my stuff. You think I’d do that if I didn’t trust you? That’s not me at all.”
“That’s right,” she said. “You’re finicky.”
He chuckled, shaking their bodies with the motion. “Am I that bad?”
“No,” she said. “You still won’t let me clean your room, though.”
He sighed exaggeratedly. “That has nothing to do with trust or being finicky. I feel like an a**hole having you clean up after me. I mean, you’re my girl—you aren’t supposed to do that shit.”
A swell of hope surged inside her when the words my girl rolled from his lips. “But don’t you see? That’s one of the only things I can do for you. I have nothing to offer, Carmine. No way to make you happy.”
He stared at her, his expression intense. Self-conscious, Haven looked away, but Carmine grasped her chin and pulled her gaze back to him. “Don’t feel like you have to do things to impress me. Being yourself is enough to keep me interested.”
Staring at him, she wondered if it could really be that simple.
“You’re pure,” he said, as if he could sense her reservation. “After everything I’ve done, I just hope I can be good enough for you.”
She blinked a few times, stunned he’d say such a thing. “You’re too good for me.”
“Me?” He scoffed. “Are we talking about the same person? The selfish f**ker who curses and yells and beats up people because he can’t control his temper? You know, the one who drinks like a fish and fries his brain with drugs? That person is too good for you?”
She shook her head. “I’m talking about the boy who shared his chocolate bar with me when he probably never shared anything before, who gave me his mama’s favorite book because he thought I deserved to read. I’m talking about the boy who treats me like a regular girl, the one who desperately needs his bedroom cleaned and laundry washed but chooses to live in a mess and wear dirty clothes because he’s too polite to ask the girl he kisses for help.”
“Wow,” Carmine said. “I’d like to meet that motherfucker.”
Haven smiled as he pulled her toward him again, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Carmine took her hand, running his fingers along it much like she’d done his, being careful to avoid the fresh wound.
17
Haven headed out of her bedroom at a quarter after eight in the morning and collided with Dominic outside her door. She recoiled, but he just stood in front of her, holding a DVD and a bowl of popcorn. “About time you wake up, Twinkle Toes. Now turn around and head back into the room.”
Dominic took a step forward, and Haven instinctively took one back. He found it amusing and did it again, continuing until they were both inside the bedroom. He shut the door and put the bowl on the table before turning on the DVD.
Grabbing the remote, he flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the table. He started the movie, chewing noisily as he munched on the popcorn. “You just gonna stand there? Your feet might get tired.”
Haven tentatively sat beside him, her brow furrowing when she realized he’d put on a cartoon. She was about to ask him what they were watching when he thrust the bowl of popcorn into her face.
She cowered from the sudden movement, and he froze. “Scared of popcorn?”
“No,” she said as he pushed the bowl closer to her. She took a small handful and turned to the television. “What are we watching?”
“Shrek!” He threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “I love this shit.”
She watched for a bit. After getting to know Dominic, she wasn’t surprised he enjoyed such a movie. “It makes sense we’re watching cartoons. Isn’t that what people do when they babysit?”
He laughed, startling Haven when he playfully tossed a piece of popcorn at her. “Look at you making a joke! You’re funny. No wonder Carmine fell in love with you.”
She stared at him. “Uh, I don’t know if I’d say he was . . . in love.” She whispered the last part, having a hard time getting the words to leave her lips.
“Please, girl. He’s given up all of his puttani and that’s something I never thought I’d see. His favorite pastime was always busting a nut.”
“A nut?”
Dominic ruffled her hair. “Oh so innocent. Ask Carmine what a nut is when he gets home. I wanna see him try to explain it to you.”
* * *
After the movie finished, Haven followed Dominic out into the backyard. She sighed as the warm sunshine hit her face. Dampness lingered in the air, a cool breeze wafting across her bare arms and flushed cheeks.
She paused a few feet from the door. “Are you sure I’m allowed out here?”
“I’m positive,” he said. “I asked.”
The two of them strolled toward the thinning trees, the brittle, fallen leaves crunching under her shoes. She was apprehensive when they headed into the forest, the same ones she’d tried to escape through months before, but she wanted to believe he wouldn’t lead her astray.
The sound of rushing water met her ears as they walked, the two of them coming upon a small creek. She knelt down, dipping her hand into the frigid water. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“I guess,” Dominic said. “I’m not fond of nature. Carmine’s the one who plays in the woods.”
“Carmine comes out here?”
“He hasn’t since he got back from the boarding school, but he used to when he wanted to be alone. He got into funks, so he’d come down by the water or run along the trail.”
Dominic sat down and leaned against a barren tree as he gazed at the water. Haven mulled it over before pulling off her shoes and wiggling her toes in the thick grass. Rolling up her pant legs to her knees, she stepped into the freezing water.
“There are all kinds of creatures in there,” Dominic warned. “Fish. Bugs. Snakes.”
She smiled as the mud squished between her toes. “I’m not afraid of what’s in this water.”