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Haven’s vision was blurry, but she could make out his stern expression. He looked irate. She hoped that anger wasn’t directed at her.
“She will be,” Carmine said. “Is Nunzio gone?”
“Sal’s driving him to the airport now.”
“The airport,” Carmine repeated. “He got off too easy. I would’ve killed him.”
All was quiet for a bit, and Haven closed her eyes. She began to wonder if they were alone when Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out once more. “I would’ve killed him, too.”
* * *
Carmine lay beside Haven in bed, brushing the hair from her face. Her cries had quieted, her face blotchy from tears. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve been here to protect you.”
“It’s not your fault,” she replied, her voice scratchy. “I’m the one who’s sorry for being so weak.”
“You aren’t weak,” he said. “You have every right to be shaken up. Fuck, I’m shaken up. No one touches my girl unless she wants to be touched. That’s something my mom made sure we understood—a woman’s body is a temple, and you should never enter it without an invitation.”
He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. It was difficult to talk about, but he wanted to share this with her. “I don’t know details, but my mom was raped when she was young. She spent time volunteering as an advocate after that. My father still donates money to the center in Chicago where she worked.”
Haven scooted closer to him. “Wow.”
“That’s the reason I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything. Your body is your temple, and I won’t come in it unless you want me to.” The moment the words left his lips he laughed to himself. “That sounds so fucking wrong. I didn’t mean it that way.”
Haven lifted her head to look at him. “What’s wrong about what you said?”
Of course she wouldn’t get the perverted connotation. “I don’t think now is the time to explain.”
She shrugged and laid her head back down.
The room was quiet except for the air whistling as it blew from the vent in the ceiling. Haven took one of Carmine’s hands and linked their fingers together, resting them at her chest. He felt her breath as her lips brushed across his swelling knuckles.
He smiled at the feel of her kiss. “What are you thinking, tesoro?”
“I’m wondering if, uh . . . It’s stupid.”
His curiosity grew. “Nothing you think is stupid.”
“Well, do you think . . .” She paused to take a deep breath. “Do you think you could ever love someone like me?” She whispered the question, and he froze. Before he could gather his thoughts and answer, Haven cut in again. “I told you it was stupid.”
Devastation shook her voice as she took his hesitation as rejection. She found the nerve to bring up a subject he wasn’t brave enough to broach, to utter the word love that terrified him so much, and instead of reassuring her he clammed up. “Haven, I could never love someone like you, because there isn’t anyone else like you. You’re one of a kind.”
* * *
The haunting melody filtered into Carmine’s subconscious, taunting him, as he watched his mom under the flickering streetlight of the vacant alley. Her words filtered past the gloomy song, her voice soft. “My sole,” she whispered. Her sun. She called him sole because he shined so brightly.
She laughed, drowning out the tortuous notes. It was such a beautiful night that she wanted to walk home, and Carmine trusted her so he didn’t argue. His mom was infallible. He would always believe in her.
It came out of nowhere, the chaos and mayhem. Images flashed before him, so fast and frenzied he could barely keep up. Tires screeching. The terror on her face. Voices cold, their words brutal.
“Run, Carmine!” she yelled. “Run, baby, and don’t stop!”
Her screams were loud in the night, but no one was around to help. Carmine stayed frozen, because he couldn’t leave without her. He didn’t want to go alone. He was her sole, her sun . . . He couldn’t bear to leave her in the dark.
“If you love me, Carmine Marcello, you’ll run,” she said as tears spilled from her eyes. He hesitated, terrified, but at the last second he fled.
“Shut her up!” a man yelled. “Do it quick!”
The petrifying, bone-chilling scream rang through the alley. Carmine’s steps waned, and he turned back around. They were hurting his mom. She needed him.
