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Free. She once looked up the word in the thesaurus Carmine had given her and memorized the words on the page: unrestrained, emancipated, independent, individualistic, liberated, self-directing, self-governing, self-ruling; antonym: bound, enslaved. That had been her—enslaved—but not anymore. Now, because of Carmine, she knew what the word free meant, and soon, she realized, she could know how it felt.
36
Carmine was in a fog as he dragged himself out of bed the next day. After washing the sweat and grime from his body, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He desperately needed a haircut and a shave, but otherwise he looked like the same Carmine DeMarco. Same person he had seen every day for years, but he didn’t feel the same anymore. It wasn’t because he was older or wiser—far from it. It was because of her.
He smiled when he saw Haven in the library, her fingertips grazing the spines of a row of books. She pulled one off a shelf, her brow furrowing as she studied the front cover. He chuckled at her expression, and her eyes snapped in his direction. “I didn’t hear you come out of your room.”
“You aren’t the only one who knows how to be quiet, Ninja.”
She replaced the book on the shelf. “Hmm, well, maybe we should get you a bell.”
“Hey, at least I don’t almost give you heart attacks. You used to startle the hell out of me. I thought for sure you’d need to give me CPR a few times.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be so sure. You make my heart race every time you come near me.”
He strolled over to where she stood and leaned down to kiss her. He nipped at her bottom lip as he pulled back, pressing his palm against her chest. “How’s the heart?”
“Feels like it’s going to explode.”
“It won’t,” he said. “It’s strong; it’s not gonna break.”
Her smile fell. “Promise?”
Carmine stared at her, confused by her sudden shift in demeanor, when it struck him what he’d said. “Promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it continues to beat.”
“Good.”
“So what are you doing in the library?”
She turned around, scanning the books again. “I was looking for something to read. I feel like I should learn something.”
“I get out of school for the summer, and you decide it’s time to learn? That’s kinda backward.”
“I know, but if I’m going to be free, I shouldn’t be stupid.”
“You aren’t stupid, but there’s nothing wrong with learning. If you wanna learn, I’m all for it. Actually, you know what? I have an idea.”
Grabbing her hand, she offered no resistance as he pulled her toward the steps. Once they reached Vincent’s office on the second floor, Carmine grabbed the knob but hesitated. He knocked instead, and Corrado opened it, stepping to the side so they could enter. Haven stiffened as she took a seat, looking at Carmine nervously as Corrado walked to the other side of the room.
“Do you need something?” Vincent asked from behind his desk, his fingers stilled on the keys of his laptop.
“I wondered how hard it would be to get Haven a GED.”
loser Teresa got, the better Haven could make out her features. The woman looked as if she were made out of plastic, her face expressionless and coated in heavy makeup. Her body was disproportionate, every part of her tucked and tweaked.
Dr. DeMarco greeted the couple as Celia made drinks, ignoring Haven again when she told her she could handle it. Haven threw together a cherry Coke for Carmine, spiking it with a little vodka. They carried the glasses into the family room, and Haven’s anxiety grew as she approached their guests. She handed a glass of scotch to Salvatore, her hand shaking from nerves.
“It’s nice to see you again,” he said.
“You too, sir,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Haven handed a glass of some orange liqueur to his wife. “Here you go, ma’am.”
Teresa took it, bringing it to her nose and inhaling. “This isn’t made right,” she said, thrusting it toward her and spilling some on the floor. The room went instantly silent.
“I’m sorry,” Haven said as she took the drink back.
She turned around and nearly collided with Celia, who grabbed the glass from her hand. “I must be losing my touch. I thought I made it perfectly.”
Teresa glanced between Celia and Haven. “I must’ve been mistaken,” she conceded, reaching for the glass again and taking a sip. “Perfect as usual, Celia.”
