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“I’ll walk you through it. See the black thing with the big-ass red button on it? Push—”
Before he could tell her what to push, she hit the red button. The lights flashed as the horn blared. He hit the button to stop it as she smiled sheepishly. This was about to be a disaster if they couldn’t get the doors open without a mistake. “You see the button with the picture of the opened lock?”
“Yes.”
“Press that motherfucker.” She pressed it, her face lighting up when the car unlocked. He smiled at her expression of pride. “Good. Now get into the car, but don’t touch anything.”
Haven climbed into the driver’s side as he got in beside her, and Carmine laughed at how far back the seat was. He used the controls to adjust it so she could see over the dash and reach the pedals.
She put on her seatbelt and raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to wear yours?”
“Do I ever wear it?”
“No, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Driving is a piece of cake,” he said. “You can’t be that bad at it.”
“Whatever you say.”
“That’s right—whatever I say. And I say put the key in.” She stuck it in the ignition. He waited for her to turn it but she didn’t. “Are you going to start the car or what?”
She glanced at him nervously. “You didn’t tell me to.”
Haven turned the key and the engine roared to life, but she continued to hold it so it kept grinding. “Christ, let go before you burn the starter up or something!”
She pulled her hand away. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I should’ve told you, but I figured you’d know that much.”
“I can count the number of times I’ve been in a car on one hand. I know nothing about them.”
“I didn’t think about that,” he said. “Look—gas to go, brake to stop. R is reverse to go backward, D is drive to go forward, and P is park . . . to fucking park. Side mirrors, rearview mirror—you look into them to see what’s around. Got it?”
“I think so,” she said. “What about all of the signs?”
“Stop at the big-ass red octagons that say STOP. The rest aren’t really important. And if the stoplight is red, you stop. If it’s green, you keep going. It’s common sense.”
“What if it’s yellow?”
o;That’s because there’s nothing to celebrate. It may be the day I was given life, but it’s also the day my life was taken from me. I may be able to hop into the car and drive to the store, but it doesn’t mean anything. Anything I’m told to do, I have to do it or face death. Were you aware of that aspect of my life?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t aware of much. Carmine alluded to the things his father did, but he never elaborated. Nobody did.
Dr. DeMarco continued after a moment. “I’ve watched it happen too many times. Men ordered to murder their own family, and they either do it or die themselves. The man who visited the house? He’s my master, just as—no matter what I do—you’ll continue to see me as your master. Because I hold the key to your survival, just as Sal holds the key to mine. I wasn’t much older than Carmine when I got involved, and I was as stupid then as he is now. He has no idea what it is he’s getting himself into—neither of you do.”
Haven was too stunned to speak. She waited for him to say something else, but instead he picked up his pen. She figured the conversation was over and reached for the book to pass the time when Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out, paralyzing her. “Are you in love with him?”
The book slipped and hit the floor. “Who?”
“You know who,” he said. “Don’t pretend to be dumb with me.”
Bile rose up at his demanding tone. “Yes.”
He grabbed a black case, and Haven’s heart raced as he moved to sit in the chair beside her. He pulled out his laptop and set it on the desk so they both could see. “Carmine asked if you had a tracking chip inside you. I wasn’t happy he inquired about it.”
“I, uh . . . I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“That’s not why I was unhappy. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not he knows. What matters to me—what worries me—is that he’s so interested. The only reason I can come up with as to why Carmine would confront me is if he’s contemplating doing something that would be affected by your chip. And the only scenario that makes sense is my son taking you on the run.”
