by JM Darhower
“Uh, well—”
“It was just Jen,” Carmine said, stepping off the porch. “My father must’ve kicked her to the curb. You know how scorned bitches are.”
“I don’t think that—”
“She always was shady,” Nicholas said. “I never understood why Dr. D would stoop that low. Even I wouldn’t touch her.”
“Bullshit,” Carmine said. “You slept with her.”
“No, I didn’t. I never touched her.”
“Yes, you did. We were at the hospital last year, and I dared you to do it. You never turned down my dares.”
“Seriously, Carmine? Are you forgetting you tried to kill me that same weekend? I never even had a chance to try!”
“I didn’t try to kill you. If I wanted to kill you, I’d kill you. I only snapped because you stabbed me in the back.”
Nicholas glared at him. When he finally spoke, he said the last thing Carmine expected to hear. “You’re right.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“I said you’re right. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m sorry about that, but you screwed up too, Carmine.”
It was first time Nicholas had ever acknowledged he’d wronged him, and it caught Carmine off guard. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have tried to get with your sister. I’m so—uh, shit, whatever.”
Haven eyed the two of them in shock. “Wow, are you—?”
“Anyway,” Carmine said, cutting her off before she could make a big deal out of it. “Everything’s fine. Haven could’ve handled it. She had the rolling pin ready.”
Nicholas laughed as Haven blushed. “I didn’t know what to do. Jen went away and then I saw someone standing out back.”
Carmine gaped at her. “Someone? Who was it?”
“I don’t know. He was near the woods and had on all black.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t the landscaper or something?” Carmine asked. “Maybe it was the guy that pushes the lawn-mower.”
“Does it look like the grass was mowed today, Carmine?”
He glanced around. “No.”
The phone in the house started ringing, and Carmine ran into the foyer for it. Grabbing it off the floor, he answered it as he stepped back out onto the porch. “Hello?”
“Carmine?” Vincent’s voice cracked a bit. “Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“So, I have a joke for you,” Nicholas said. Carmine rolled his eyes as his father started talking about something to do with the airport, but the reception was getting worse and Nicholas’s voice drowned him out. “What’s black, white, and red all over?”
“I don’t know,” Haven said. “What?”
A loud bang rang out in the distance. Carmine dropped the phone and cursed, reaching down to pick it up, when a piercing scream cut through the air. The hair on Carmine’s arms bristled as he spun around. Nicholas dropped to his knees as red seeped onto his white shirt. Clutching his chest, he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He dropped forward to the ground within a matter of seconds. Haven screamed again, so loudly Carmine’s ears rang.
Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. He jumped off the porch and landed on top of Haven. Another bang shattered the air as he knocked her to the ground behind the car, his body weight forcing the air from her lungs.
“Listen to me,” he said, pinning her trembling body there as she struggled to breathe. “I’m gonna count to three and start shooting. I need you to get up and get into this damn car. Got it?”
She was unresponsive, and he groaned as another shot rang out. He winced as it collided with metal, the bullet hitting the car. “Christ, Haven, you need to fucking listen to me. We have to get out of here. I need you to do this, so can you?”
Her voice shook just as hard as her body. “I think so.”
Carmine reached up and opened the passenger door a crack. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”
Yet another gunshot cut through the stifling air. He flinched at the sound and took a deep breath. They were taunting them, he realized. Whoever it was could’ve easily executed them by now.
He started counting, and Haven’s eyes widened as she clutched onto him. “Wait!”
“Christ, we don’t have time to fuck around here.”
“I love you,” she said, the words catching in her throat and escaping as a sob. The sound of it burned, like she taken a knife and plunged it straight into his chest, twisting it.
“Don’t act like we won’t see each other again in thirty seconds,” he said, grabbing his gun from his waistband and flicking off the safety. “Get in the goddamn car, baby. Three.”
He stood up and aimed at nothing in particular, firing off rounds in the direction the shots had come from. Running around to the driver’s side, he cursed when he almost tripped over Nicholas. Shame overwhelmed him as tears stung his eyes, but he fought to hold himself together for Haven’s sake.
Bullets whizzed by him as he ducked inside the car. Haven was curled into a ball in the passenger seat, sobbing. He fumbled with the keys as he laid the gun down between them.
He threw the car in gear and swung it around, slamming the gas to get away from the house. Reaching over, he brushed Haven’s hair aside to get a good look at her as he flew down the driveway. “Are you okay, tesoro? Talk to me, please.”
She flinched when he touched her. ”Nicholas,” she gasped through her sobs. “We can’t leave Nicholas!”
“We have to. Someone is shooting at us. It’s too late for him.”
She shook her head hysterically. “But he was just helping!”
“I know, hummingbird,” he said, swinging the car onto the main road. He wasn’t sure what else to say. “I know.”
He tried to focus on the road, but something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. A black car was flying up behind them. “Fuck.”
Haven glanced behind them. “Oh, God.”
“Put on your fucking seatbelt,” he said. She froze for a split second before snapping it on. Carmine wanted to say something to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure those words even existed.
The vehicle rapidly approached as gunshots cut through the air again, bullets hitting the back of the car. The right rear tire blew out as it was struck, the car jolting, but Carmine managed to keep it on the road. A moment later the left tire shredded, the screech of metal rim against the highway drowning out the sound of gunfire. Sparks flew, and Carmine’s panic deepened when he realized they couldn’t outrun them now. He grasped onto the steering wheel to brace himself and looked at Haven, unparalleled devastation reflecting in her eyes.
“Carmine,” she said. The sound of his name on her lips made his chest swell with love despite the fear. Nothing would ever override or overpower it, and that moment proved that fact. He stared into her deep brown eyes, and it seemed as if time stopped for her. It always would, he realized. Carmine’s world wouldn’t go on without her.
“I love you, too,” he said, struggling to fight back the emotion so as not to scare her. “Sempre.”
The moment he said the word, the black sedan rammed the back of their car. They skidded off the side of the road toward some trees. Carmine threw his hands out instinctively to protect Haven, knowing it was too late to stop what was happening. He was thrust forward and hit the steering wheel, pain ripping through his chest as the air left his body.
Blackness stole him instantly.
Chapter 46
The airbag deployed with a loud pop, silencing Haven’s screams as her seatbelt locked into place. Slamming into it, she gasped for air, unable to take a breath until it started to deflate. She glanced at the driver’s side, her chest on fire. Carmine was slumped forward, his airbag splattered with blood from his face.
“Carmine!” she screamed, grasping at her seatbelt until she got it to unbuckle. She pawed at him, trying to find some sign of life, and cried out with relief as he took a shaky breath.
He was alive. There was still ho
pe.
The slam of a car door alarmed Haven. The black sedan was parked alongside the road, everything hitting Haven at once. She glanced around in horror as four men approached, all of them shrouded in black masks.
They were a blur in her panicked state, their rapid approach severing any grip she might’ve had on herself. She considered trying to run, but she didn’t want to leave Carmine behind. There was no way she could abandon him when he was unable to fend for himself. “Carmine, I need you! Please!”
Her distress skyrocketed as the men neared, their voices muffled to her ears. Glancing around the front seat, she spotted Carmine’s gun on the floorboard. Her heart pounded vigorously. She hesitated for a split second before grasping it with trembling hands.
Someone appeared at the driver's side, and Haven pulled the trigger as a reflex. It sounded like an explosion in the confined space, and she yelped, remembering to keep a grip on the gun so it didn’t slip out of her hand. The bullet shattered the driver’s side window and grazed the man’s face. He grasped his cheek and turned as someone screamed, the man behind him dropping to the ground a few feet away. She stared, stunned she’d shot someone, as the first man ripped off his mask.
He spun back around, and Haven shrieked when she recognized Nunzio. He whipped out his pistol and reached into the window, grabbing Carmine by the hair. Yanking his head back, Nunzio pointed the gun to his temple the same time the passenger door opened. She heard a click as a gun was pressed to the back of her head.
The person behind her spoke, his voice heavily accented. “Drop your fucking gun.”
She let go of it. The man grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the car. He threw her to the ground and picked up the weapon, checking it as Nunzio slammed Carmine’s head against the steering wheel.
“Please,” she screamed, feeling sick as the word rolled from her lips. “Please don’t hurt him!”
“Shut up,” Nunzio said as the man tossed him Carmine’s gun. “Did your boyfriend teach you how to use this thing?”
She just stared at him. The guy beside her lost his patience and pointed his pistol at her again. “Answer.”
“Yes!”
Nunzio shook his head. “I never understood what Sal saw in him. Principe della Mafia, the future of the organization. He doesn’t have the brains for this.”
He glared at her, an eerie silence surrounding them as Nunzio slipped Carmine’s gun into his coat. “Get her up. We don’t have time to dick around.”
The man yanked Haven to her feet and pulled her toward their car. She hyperventilated, frantically looking for some way to escape.
“What about him?” a third man asked, glancing at their partner on the ground. His voice also carried an accent.
“Leave him,” Nunzio said. “I would’ve killed him, anyway.”
“And the kid? DeMarco?”
Haven’s heart felt like it stopped in that instant, pain radiating out through every inch of her body. She screamed and tried to pull away, fear making her knees buckle. The man’s grasp slipped, and she collapsed, sobbing. “Please don’t kill him!”
“Get her up,” Nunzio said.
“Please! I’ll go with you, I will! I won’t fight! Just don’t hurt him!”
Devastation consumed her when the man drew his gun and pointed it at Carmine. She let out a shriek, the sound originating somewhere down inside of her soul and resonating so loudly that her own ears rang. Both men in front of her recoiled from the sound. Something hard slammed into the back of her head, the force silencing her.
“Shut the fuck up,” the man with the thick accent said, followed by another strong blow that knocked her forward.
“Please!” she screamed again through the pain, not caring what happened to her as long as they didn’t touch Carmine. He was still alive, and she needed him to stay that way. “I’ll do anything! Don’t shoot him!”
A foot slammed into her side, and she whimpered, trying to catch her breath.
“That’s enough,” Nunzio said. “We need her in one piece. Just leave DeMarco before she gives me a headache.”
The guy lowered his gun as Nunzio pulled her to her feet, eyeing her so intently her skin crawled.
He pulled her close to him and leaned down, his nose grazing her cheek. She could smell the blood on his face as he smeared it against her. “He’ll die soon, anyway.”
She held her breath, revolted, and collapsed to the ground when he let her go.
“Put her in the car,” Nunzio said, walking away. Arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her toward the road. She could faintly make out Carmine’s body slumped over in the car, the sight of him crippling the last of her resolve. She started screaming his name, desperately hoping he’d hear and wake up.
The man covered her mouth to silence her, and she panicked, biting down on his hand. Her teeth tore his flesh, repulsive blood filling her mouth. He pulled away enough to give her a chance to slip from his grasp. She spat and ran for the car but was grabbed as soon as she made it to the driver’s side.
“I thought you were going to play nice?” Nunzio asked, dragging her back to the vehicle. He forced her into the backseat as the others climbed in, tires squealing as they drove away.
Nunzio grabbed a small pouch and unzipped it, pulling out a syringe full of clear liquid. “It’s a shame I have to do this.”
She shook her head. “I swear I won’t fight anymore.”
“You expect me to believe you? Now?” He laughed. “This might hurt a bit.”
She gasped as his hand shot out and grasped her around the throat. She struggled, slamming her fists into him as hard as she could, trying to knock the needle out of his hand. He jabbed it into her thigh and held onto her tightly for a minute longer as she started fading, slipping into unconsciousness.
* * * *
“Carmine?”
The sound of his name registered in Carmine’s ears, but the voice was muddled and sounded far away. It was familiar, though, and he strained to hear.
“Carmine, open your eyes.”
Everything was black but oddly hazy, like he was submerged under water or in a thick fog.
“Come on,” the voice said, clearer than before. He recognized it as his father’s and tried to respond, but he couldn't seem to get words to form, strangled moans vibrating his chest.
“Wake up, son,” Vincent said. “This is important.”
Carmine forced his eyes open but winced at the pain radiating from his head. He groaned as he tried to move, the stabbing feeling spreading with each attempt. His vision was distorted, everything blurring together.
“You scared me,” Vincent said.
Carmine rubbed his eyes. He was still in the car, the entire front end wedged against some trees. Smoke and heat still filtered from under the hood, so he knew he couldn't have been there too long. He saw his father standing beside the driver’s side door and made a move to get out, but Vincent stopped him. “You shouldn’t move in case you’re injured.”
“I’m fine,” Carmine said, not sure if that was true. He climbed out and grasped onto the side of the car to stabilize himself, his legs wobbly. It took a second for the fog to clear, and he turned to look for Haven. He felt sick right away and hunched over, vomiting.
“You have a serious concussion,” Vincent said. “Probably some fractured ribs. Looks like a broken nose and—”
“Quit fucking diagnosing me,” he said. “Where’s Haven?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. I was on my way back to the house and saw the car here.”
Carmine’s panic flared. “I, uh… she was with me. We were at the house and someone started shooting. Nicholas got hit.”
“Nicholas? Where is he?”
“I guess he's still at the house. I don't know. I had to leave him and get the fuck out of there.” He fought back his guilt, unsure of which hurt worse—the emotional anguish or the physical pain. “We were trying to get away, but a car ran up on us, and here we are. Or fuck, here
I am. Where is she?”
“We'll find her,” Vincent said. Carmine glanced at him, wondering how he could be so calm, and froze when something a few yards behind him caught his attention. His heart pounded forcefully when he realized it was a person.
His father glanced in that direction. “Johnny.”
“Johnny? Who the fuck is Johnny?”
“Nobody important. I’m not even certain that’s his name. He’s a part of Giovanni’s street crew.”
“And you killed him? One of your own?”
“He's still alive,” Vincent said. “He has a gunshot wound to the abdomen, but it's not necessarily fatal. Missed his major organs, but I'm venturing a guess it hit his spinal cord.”
“A gut shot? I thought you shot to kill?”
“I didn't shoot him,” he said, shaking his head. “I was hoping you could tell me what happened to him.”
“You found him there?” Carmine just stared at his father for a moment, bewildered, before turning back to the car. The passenger side door was open and the seatbelt was unlatched, so he didn’t think Haven could’ve been hurt too bad in the accident. There wasn’t any blood on her side.
“Maybe she went for help,” he said, tossing things around. “Where’s my gun?”
The moment he said the words, he spotted the single .45 caliber cartridge on the passenger side floorboard. He picked it up and got back out of the car, eyeing it as his father sighed. “I had a feeling something like this would happen—even before I knew she was related to Sal. After everything I lost, I knew saving her wouldn’t be easy. They all knew how important it was to me. I was afraid someone would take her for leverage, and after the interest he showed in her, I should’ve known it would be him.”
Carmine’s legs wobbled. “Nunzio?”
Vincent nodded. “No one has heard from him in days. He was called in for a sit-down and didn’t show. It was the reason I was going to Chicago this weekend.”
