Authors: JM Darhower
“I called you,” Carmine said. “I left a message. It's not my fault you didn’t answer your damn phone.”
Vincent narrowed his eyes. “You called me? What if I would’ve answered and told you ‘no’? Would you have still done it? Of course you would’ve! You can’t seem to get a grasp on reality! And I know you’re up to something, son. I know you, but I’m telling you right now—whatever it is won't work.”
Carmine said not a word.
“I don’t want you stepping foot in my office or the basement again. You have no business in there anymore. And I know what you saw, too. What you read. I can’t begin to imagine what ideas are floating around in that head of yours, but don’t dare act on it. Whatever it is, don’t do it. There are people who will kill you if they find out you have any knowledge about this.”
Vincent started pacing, muttering to himself. “If you weren’t turning eighteen soon, I’d send you back to the academy tomorrow. I already have half a mind to get rid of the girl.”
“You aren’t gonna do a goddamn thing to her,” Carmine said. “You’re gonna leave her alone.”
“Who do you think you are telling me what to do? I’ll do anything I want with her! Have you not been listening to me? You’re going to get yourself killed! You may not care about your life, but I can’t let you throw it away. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure that doesn’t happen, even if it means her being collateral damage.”
Carmine’s hands shook. He clenched them into fists, those words driving him to the brink. “Fuck you! I’ll kill you if you ever hurt her again!”
“Maybe you will,” Vincent said. “In fact, I don’t doubt it, but at least your mother’s
sole
will still have his light. She would’ve never wanted you involved in this.”
“Don’t bring my mom into this and use her as an excuse to justify your bullshit! I love her. You need to accept that!”
“I can’t!” Vincent stepped toward him. “You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re just a child, Carmine.”
“I may be seventeen, but I’m not a child. I haven’t been a child since I got shot because of you!”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know the devastation that girl has inflicted on my life! Just look at us! Look what she’s causing!”
“She’s not causing it, you are! You’re the one that brought us into this life! You paid money for her—for a fucking child—and you wanna blame her for this?”
Vincent shook his head. “I was trying to help her! I’ve done everything I could for that girl, and none of it is enough. Nothing is ever enough! It’s impossible! You don’t know how much I’ve already suffered because of that little bitch!”
The moment that word escaped his lips, Carmine’s composure slipped. His fist connected with his father’s mouth. Vincent stumbled, not expecting to be struck. “Don’t call her that!”
Before Carmine even realized his father had moved, Vincent was on him. He slammed him into the wall, shoving everything off the table beside the bed. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of Carmine. He gasped for air as his father pinned him against the desk.
There was another commotion as Dominic burst into the room. “What the hell?”
Dominic grabbed his father’s shoulder. It seemed to register with Vincent what he was doing, and he quickly removed his hands. Backing away, he swiped his fingers across his bloody mouth. “Why couldn’t trust me, Carmine? Why couldn’t you let me handle this?”
“Why couldn’t you give me a good reason to?”
“Trying to keep you safe isn’t a good reason?”
Carmine didn’t even hesitate. “My safety means nothing compared to hers.”
* * * *
Standing in the doorway of Carmine’s bedroom, Haven surveyed the damage from the fight. Carmine grumbled to himself as he opened his desk drawer, grabbing a bottle of liquor and taking a drink. He grimaced as he pulled it from his lips and kicked the desk drawer closed. Plopping down in the chair, he stared at the floor in the darkened room.
Haven crouched down beside the bed to pick up things that had been knocked over. She plugged the alarm clock in and tried to set it, but she gave up with the numbers still flashing twelve.
Grabbing the picture frame from the floor, she winced as a shard of the broken glass stabbed her thumb. Blood oozed from the cut as she set it down on the desk.
“Christ, you’re bleeding,” Carmine said. He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away.
“You broke the picture frame,” she said, picking more things off of the floor.
Carmine groaned as he stood up. “Would you just stop cleaning? None of that shit is important!”
Haven flinched from him. “It is important. It’s your mama.”
She tried to fight back her tears as she continued picking up the rest of the stuff, having no idea what else to do. Frustrated, Carmine snatched the bottle of liquor from the desk and flung it at the wall. It shattered, glass and alcohol spraying everywhere.
Haven closed her eyes as her tears slipped through, flashes of memory striking her as hard as fists. Michael’s anger, the shattered glass and revolting stench of spilled liquor.
“You’re worthless,” he’d screamed, spitting the words at her so many times she even heard it in her sleep. “You can’t do anything right, girl! You’re the worst thing I ever did!”
She reopened her eyes, watching the annoyance fade from Carmine’s face. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you. None of this is your fault.”
“It is,” she said quietly. “I’m tearing your family apart.”
Carmine knelt beside her, grabbing a notebook and tossing it on his desk. “This family was torn apart when my mom was killed, so unless you wanna take credit for that, you can drop that bullshit.”
Haven lay in bed with Carmine later, running her fingers along his swollen knuckles. Guilt ran rampant through her. No matter what he said, she still felt like she’d caused it.
She didn’t sleep much. The peace she’d found over the weeks was suddenly tainted. Carmine was in and out of consciousness for a while, thrashing around with nightmares again.
Sometime later she climbed out of bed and headed downstairs in a daze. She pulled things out for Easter dinner, going through the motions like she’d been taught to do. She glanced out the window briefly as the sun started rising and noticed the Mercedes wasn’t parked in its usual spot. She wondered if there was even a point in cooking with Dr. DeMarco gone but pushed the thought aside, knowing the others would still eat it.
The morning flew by quickly, morphing into afternoon, before eventually shifting into early evening. The boys made their way downstairs around noon, both of them somber in their own way. There was a tension lingering in the house, but she was too exhausted to deal with what it meant.
She stood in front of the stove while Carmine sat on the counter, staring at her. Dominic bounded into the room and reached by her, grabbing one of the deviled eggs she’d made. She glanced at him briefly before going back to cooking.
“You feeling alright today, Haven?”
“Yes.”
“You sure? Because I took some food, and you didn’t hit me.”
“She’s on autopilot,” Carmine said. “Happy Easter to us all.”
She said nothing, a faint sound outside drawing her attention. Glancing out the window, she stared at Dr. DeMarco’s car as it came to a stop.
Carmine leapt down from the counter and wrapped his arms around her protectively when the front door opened, and Dr. DeMarco headed their way. There was silence, the tension in the house escalating as the footsteps entered the kitchen.
Dr. DeMarco paused a foot from them, his voice strained. “Let me see your hand, Carmine.”
“Excuse me?”
“You put too much stress on your fourth and fifth fingers. I’ll be surprised if you didn’t fracture them.”
“Fuck you.”
Dominic sighed exasperatedly. “Just let him look at your hand and get it over with.”
Carmine stayed still for a moment before pulling his hand from Haven’s hip. Dr. DeMarco’s expression remained blank as he eyed his son’s hand, and Carmine winced a few times as he pressed on his knuckles. “You’ll be fine.”
“Like I said…” Carmine pulled his hand away. “Fuck you.”
Haven started carrying the food to the table once it was done, but Dominic stopped her and offered to do it. She thanked him quietly and planned to go to her room, but Carmine took her hand and led her into the dining room. Pulling out a chair, he motioned for her to sit down.
“
Signore, benedici questi peccatori che essi mangiano la loro cene
,” Dr. DeMarco mumbled before they filled their plates with food.
The tension mounted through dinner. No one wanted to be there, none of them wanting to deal with the situation, but they all knew it couldn’t be avoided anymore. The wheels had been set into motion, and it was too late for any of them to go back.
A fork clanged loudly as Dominic cracked. “I can’t take this anymore. We need to get a mediator or something, because this can’t go on.” No one spoke as he glanced around. “No one has anything to say? We have to clear the air. We need to have a sit-down.”
Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “You know nothing about sit-downs.”
“You’re right, and I hope to never find out what happens at one, but we’re going to have our own version,” Dominic said. “No one leaves the table until we get some answers.”
“There are questions I can’t answer.”
“That’s fine,” Dominic said. “If you can’t answer something, just tell us. Plead the fifth—it’ll be good practice in case the cops ever haul you in. But things can’t keep going like they are, Dad. We used to feel like a family—a dysfunctional as hell one, but still a family. And now it’s every man for themselves.”
Dr. DeMarco stared at his plate. “Fine. Family meeting.”
The word ‘family’ struck Haven, and she jumped to her feet. “May I be excused, sir?”
“Yes,” Dr. DeMarco said, waving her away.
Carmine glared at her. “Sit down, Haven. This involves you, too.”
She remained frozen, having no idea what she was supposed to do.
Frowning, Dr. DeMarco pointed at her chair. “Take your seat.”
She sat back down carefully, folding her hands in her lap.
“Okay,” Dominic said. “I’ll start. What’s your problem with Haven?”
Her eyes widened at the question. She suddenly wished she would’ve left anyway.
“Why do you think I have a problem with her?” Dr. DeMarco asked.
Carmine scoffed. “Maybe because you fucking threaten her?”
“Hey, calm the hell down,” Dominic said. “There’s no yelling in my sit-down’s. Let me handle this.”
Carmine grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’s better,” Dominic said, turning back to his father. “Maybe because you fucking threaten her?”
Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “I have nothing against the child.”
“But you said…” she started before she realized what she was doing. She shut her mouth, nervous she’d spoken out in the middle of their meeting.
“I said what?” Dr. DeMarco raised his eyebrows. ”Be out with it.”
“You told those men I wasn’t worth it.”
“You’re right. I did say that, and I won’t take it back. It doesn’t mean I have a problem with you, though.”
Carmine shook his head, fighting to remain silent, while Dominic continued with his questions. “So if you don’t hate her, what’s the big deal about her and Carmine being together?”
“Because there are complications they don’t understand,” he said. “I’ve told them they can be together for the time being if that’s what they want.”
Carmine couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “Can’t you see how unfair that is? We can be together ‘for the time being’? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means until I figure things out, I can’t give you any guarantees on the future.”
“What things?” Carmine asked. Dr. DeMarco didn’t answer. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself. Just tell me—who is she related to?”
“I can’t say. If they find out you know, you’re going to get hurt. I need you all to understand that.”
“Why don’t you just tell whoever the guy is?” Dominic asked. “What’s the big deal? So she has more family… isn’t that good?”
“No, it’s not good. He’ll expect her to be handed over, and she wouldn’t be safe with him. That’s why I haven’t told him.”
Haven’s mind furiously tried to work through what he’d just said.
“No one’s taking her,” Carmine said. “I won’t let it happen.”
“I know. If I turn her over, you’ll follow right behind, and I can’t have that. I can’t have you both being taken down. I’m trying to find a way out where you walk away from this, but you’re making that difficult on me.”
“Do I know him?” Carmine asked.
“I can’t answer that.”
He laughed dryly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You need to mind your own business,” Dr. DeMarco said. “You have to forget all about the DNA test.”
“Why can’t you?” Dominic asked. “Forget about it. Burn the results and let the information die.”
“Because three can keep a secret if two of them are dead—that’s why. People know. You have no idea the dilemma this has put me in, how hard it has made helping her.”
“I’m still confused,” Dominic said. “If you’re trying to help her, why do you threaten her?”
“Because Carmine has no regard for his own life. He made that clear again last night. Threatening him wouldn’t affect him, but threatening her would. And it’s not an idle threat. If it comes down to it, I will choose my blood.”
Haven’s heart thumped hard in her chest as Carmine snapped. “You’re stupid if you think I’d just move on with my life if something happened to her.”
“I know you think that—”
Carmine growled. “Don’t pretend to know my feelings! Stop treating me like a child!”
Dr. DeMarco slammed his hands down on the table. “Then grow up! I know how you’re feeling, because I felt the same way when I was your age! I know what you’d risk for her, but I can’t let you. I have to at least try for your mother!”
Carmine’s eyes narrowed. “My mom has nothing to do with this!”
“Your mother has everything to do with it! She loved her!”
Carmine blanched at that, his eyes darting to Haven before going right back to his father. His mouth flew open, like words were trying to force themselves out, but there was nothing but silence.