Sempre (Forever) (5 page)

He'd forgotten about the list, after all.

He climbed into the car, debating for a moment before starting through town. He bypassed the road that led toward home, instead taking the highway that went to Lisa’s house. Since he was already going to be in trouble, he figured he might as well make it worth it.

*  *  *  *

Haven hummed while she worked.

It was a habit she'd had all of her life. Her mama used to say that before Haven could even talk, she was humming, mimicking the lullabies she'd sung to her at night out in the stables. It had calmed her as a baby, soothed her, and as she went about her work, it had a similar effect.

The words to the songs were long forgotten, but the melodies continued to play in her head. It always brought Haven back to an earlier time—a time when things were still innocent and happy. She'd hum, and suddenly the sun shined a bit brighter, the world around her not as dark as she knew it could be.

Used to having every detail of her life controlled, she had a hard time sorting through things on her own. She should’ve gotten clarification, because nothing should ever be assumed, but she was so afraid of making a mistake that she couldn’t force the questions out of her mouth. She'd already upset Dr. DeMarco once asking something. How many chances would she get before he snapped?

So she just did what came naturally to her. That afternoon, she scrubbed the hardwood floors and cleaned the bathrooms. She dusted and vacuumed, but stayed out of every room that was locked. She found a clear plastic bottle in the supply closet, labeled in black lettering that it was for use on the windows. They were the only dirty part of the house, so she cleaned them as high up as she could reach.

By three o’clock, Haven was out of things to do.

She was sorting through canned goods in the pantry when she heard a car outside, the alarm in the foyer beeping as the front door opened. Footsteps headed in her direction and her heart thumped wildly. Panicked, she bolted for the doorway, irrationally planning to hide, and collided with Dominic when he stepped into the kitchen. “Whoa, twinkle toes.”

Instinctively, she backed up a few steps. “I’m sorry.”

“No biggie, just warn me next time you wanna dance,” he joked, heading straight for the refrigerator. “You hungry?”

Haven watched the doorway for his company, realizing after a moment that he was talking to her. She stammered, her stomach growling before she could get out a coherent thought.

He laughed. “I'll take that as a yes.”

He slapped some ham and cheese between two slices of bread and grabbed a paper towel, holding it out to her. She stared at the sandwich with surprise but took it carefully. She couldn't recall the last time she'd eaten anything, too nervous to touch their food on her own.

Haven took a small bite as Dominic cleaned up after himself, the entire exchange surreal. She couldn't believe he'd served her, the servant.

Chapter 3

Haven sat on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, her gaze trained on the floor. She could see Dr. DeMarco's shoes from the corner of her eye, a small trail of dirt on the carpet behind them that he'd dragged in from outside. The sudden urge to clean it hit her, but she remained still, not wanting to offend him.

It was a few minutes past six in the evening, and he'd just arrived home from work. She'd slipped back up to her room after eating her sandwich earlier in the day, feeling out of place downstairs with someone there.

“You cleaned,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“But I told you to relax.”

She tensed, not wanting him to think she did it to be disrespectful. “I was awake and didn't know what else to do.”

“I appreciate the effort,” he said. “In all honesty, I can't recall the windows ever being free of grime. You did clean them, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you used the correct cleaner?”

“I think so,” she said. “I used the clear bottle from the closet.”

He said nothing for a moment before taking a step toward her. She flinched when his hand shot out, but her reaction didn't stop him. Grasping her chin, he pulled her face up and forced her to look at him. “I don't expect perfection. Just make sure the house is clean, the beds are made, and the laundry is done, and we shouldn't have any problems. Dinner is to be on the table at seven every night, unless I tell you otherwise. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dr. DeMarco let go of her, and she looked away. Eye contact with him was uncomfortable. He turned to walk out of the room but stopped in the library when he realized she was right on his heels. “Is there something you need?”

“It's already after six, so I thought I should start dinner so it’s ready in time.”

He sighed. “Tomorrow. Take the night off.”

She just stood there as he walked away, leaving her alone in front of the stairs.
Take the night off
. The words ran through her mind but refused to sink in, as foreign to her as another language.

Who are these people?

*  *  *  *

1:47 am

The glowing red numbers on the alarm clock taunted Haven. It was too still, the silence in the room deafening. She'd never been on her own for so long before. Even at night in the stables the animals had kept her company while she slept. She usually had her mama to count on, and she realized, as she lay in the dark room, that she'd taken her for granted. She had no one now. She was all alone.

2:12 am

She thought about her mama, wondering what she was doing and if she was still okay. Did she know what happened, or was she imagining her out there somewhere, getting help? Haven imagined her standing on the front porch of the ranch, gazing out at the desert and waiting for a sign. Waiting for rescue. Waiting for
her
.

3:28 am

Haven wondered what would've happened had she found someone to save them. Would they be somewhere together? She imagined them having their own house, with a picket fence and a fluffy white kitten to keep them company. They'd name her Snowball and she'd climb their tree at Christmas, tearing down the lights and scattering pine needles. They'd have presents and hot chocolate, and there would be snow outside. Haven had only ever seen snow in pictures, but her mama talked about it sometimes. She told her how beautiful it was when it blanketed the ground, how the cold flakes tasted when they landed on your tongue. Haven asked how she knew, since she'd never had a life other than the one they had. “I dream about it,” she’d said. “When you dream, you can go anywhere. I always go to the snow.”

4:18 am

Haven could picture it, her mama’s skin pale and cheeks pink from the cold. Flakes stuck to her hair, and she glowed, smiling as she twirled around in the snow. She was happy—happier than Haven had ever seen her before. She was living a normal life, the kind of life she always should've had.

5:03 am

Her cheeks were stained from tears and her eyes burned, like grains of desert sand were still stuck in them. She felt like she was running again, the air suffocating as she struggled to breathe, but no matter how hard she fought, she knew she'd get nowhere. She was trapped.

5:46 am

The faint sound of music filtered into the room, a welcome disruption from the agonizing silence. The soft melody comforted Haven. She relaxed as some of the tension left her body, but it did nothing to shut off her mind. She lay awake, listening to it as she stared at the clock, wishing for relief.

6:30 am

The time they'd gotten up at the ranch. Haven climbed out of bed after the music stopped and wiped the tears from her face. Leaving the bedroom, she quietly slipped into the library. She wandered along the tall stacks, running her fingertips along the spines of the books. She kept the light off, not wanting to draw any attention, but the window let in enough of a glow for her to see. A strange sense of peace settled over her as she stood there. For the first time in a long time—possibly ever—Haven almost felt safe.

Almost
.

She walked to the window and gazed out, the sky lightening as the sun started to rise. The back yard was lush and green, trees scattered throughout the clearing with the edge of the forest a few hundred yards away. Haven wondered how far the trees went and which direction the closest town was, how long it would take someone to get there on foot.

Eventually, a quiet cough alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone anymore. Carmine strolled toward the stairs, a white bandage on his head that hadn't been there yesterday. The sight of him made something inside of Haven twist.

His gaze shifted in her direction, and he jumped, grabbing his chest. “What are you doing?”

“I was just looking,” she said, motioning toward the window.

“In the dark? You couldn't turn on a light?”

She tore her eyes from his. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he said. “Just try to make some noise next time. You're worse than a damn cat sneaking around. Maybe you need a bell.”

Traitorous tears formed. Don't let him see you cry, she silently chanted. “I'll try.”

“Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”

“Haven,” she said quietly, peeking at him.

He gazed at her peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” She stared at him, and he cracked a smile. “I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”

“Haven, not Heaven,” she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. “My name’s Haven.”

“Haven?”

“Yes, it means—”

“I know what it means,” his sharp voice cut her off. She recoiled from the tone and pressed her back against the window. His moods were changing too quickly for her to get a read on his frame of mind. “So, what happened to you?”

“What?”

“I mean, no offense, but you're kinda fucked up. Looks like you've been to Hell and back.”

She reached up to touch her bruised face when it dawned on her what he meant. “Oh, I fell.”

“You fell? If you don't wanna tell me, all you have to do is say so. No need for a bullshit response.”

“No, honestly. I fell! I tried to, uh... I was...”

“You don't have to explain. It's none of my business, anyway.”

“But I did fall,” she insisted. He still didn't look convinced, but she wasn't sure what else she could say. “What happened to you?”

She pointed to his bandage, and he touched his injury like she'd done. He shrugged, dropping his hand. “I fell.”

“Did you really?”

“No,” he said, laughing as he disappeared down the stairs.

She frowned. “But I did.”

*  *  *  *

When Carmine was ten-years-old, his father brought home a small cat. It was sickly, its fur scraggly and tail chopped off. It infested the house with fleas and clawed up the furniture, scratching them more times than they could count. Needless to say, it didn't last long. Two weeks later the cat disappeared. Carmine never asked what happened to it. Frankly, he didn't care.

When he was fourteen, it was two dogs. The first was a little ankle biter with kinky yellow fur. It was missing a back leg and pissed all over the house before chewing up Vincent’s favorite shoes. It didn't last a week. The second dog was a pit bull with one eye and deformed ears. His father tied it up in the back yard, and it barked all night, keeping them all awake. Carmine could barely function in school the next day, and when he got home, the dog was gone.

So Carmine wished he could say he was shocked when his father brought home a girl, but he wasn't. He figured he was just picking up strays once again.

But Carmine could already tell she was different, and he didn’t know what to make of it. His father was buying the girl things. He hadn't even bought the last dog any food.

That fact weighed heavily on him as he strolled down the stairs. He told himself it was sheer curiosity fueling his thoughts, but the truth was, in just one day, the strange girl had gotten under his skin. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why or what to do about it, but he didn’t like the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It irritated him, keeping him awake all night long, like a tiny little hammer chipping away at his insides.

He paused on the second floor, seeing his father’s office door open. “Hey, do you want me to—?”

“No.”

Vincent’s sharp voice made Carmine stop mid-sentence. “You didn’t let me finish. I was gonna ask if—”

“I don’t need you to finish,” Vincent said, not even bothering to look at him. He was hunched over his laptop with his reading glasses low on his nose. “I don’t want you to do anything for me.”

“But what about the—?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Vincent laughed humorlessly. “Not like you’d actually worry about it. You don’t care about anything that doesn’t benefit you.”

“That’s not true. I care about—”

“No, you don’t.”

“Christ, can I get out a full sentence? I’m trying to help.”

“Help who?”

Carmine shrugged. “You.”

“I don’t need your help,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “I asked you to do one little thing for me, and you couldn’t do it. Lesson learned, son. I now know I can't count on you.”

Ouch
.

“I forgot,” he said. “It was a mistake. I'll make it up to you.”

“It's too late. I already asked someone else.”

“Who?”

“Jen.”

He grimaced. “Why her?”

“Well, she knows the sorts of things girls need, since she is one.”

It took some effort, but Carmine refrained from making a crack about Jen’s age. “If by that you mean they need birth control and a heavy dose of penicillin, I might agree.”

Vincent shot him a disapproving look. “You aren't one that can judge, given the company I've seen you keep.”

“True, but I'm not exactly role model material, am I? Would you want me doing the shopping?”