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Haven covered her mouth as tears blurred her vision. Taking a few steps back, she gave her mama one last look before running for the car.
41
It was pitch black when Carmine made it back to the ranch that night, the dry desert air still scorching. He started toward the house, irritable and uncomfortable, but froze when the front door opened. Miranda walked out, her eyes darting around wildly. Even in the darkness, Carmine could make out a faint hand-shaped mark on her throat.
“Who did this to you?” Carmine asked. “I’ll fucking kill them.”
Panic flashed in Miranda’s expression. “Please don’t make a scene.”
He fought to keep a grip on his temper. “It’s wrong.”
“I know, but . . . please.” She stepped into the yard, nervousness in her expression. She worried she was being watched. “I remember when your mama visited. She used to talk about a world outside of this place for my daughter. She said Haven was special.”
Hearing those words made Carmine’s chest ache with longing. “She is.”
“It means a lot to hear you say that. I hardly recognize my daughter, you know. She’s still that sweet baby girl I raised, but she’s happy. She’s better off away from all of this.” She walked away but paused after a few steps. “I heard someone talking about safe houses once and how they helped people get free. They called them havens. I named her that because she was my haven. She was my safe place in this ugly world. When she was born, I had a reason to live. My baby girl, my Haven, needed to be protected. I’ve done all I can, so I’m asking you to look out for her out there. Keep her away from people like these. Can you do that?”
Carmine was stunned at the trust she placed in him. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I can rest easy now.”
The front door opened and Miranda bolted for the stables before he could say another word. Carmine glanced at the porch as Corrado stepped out, his eyebrows raised. “Did you tell her?”
“No, you scared her away before I could.”
A loud screeching ricocheted from the house. Footsteps pounded across the floor as a woman’s voice echoed out to them. “My brother vouched for that little bitch?”
Carmine went up the steps, but Corrado grabbed his shirt to stop him. “Don’t say anything.”
The front door thrust open, and Katrina stepped out. Her steps faltered when she saw Carmine, but she regained her composure and turned to her brother. “I can’t believe you, Corrado! What did you make my husband sign this morning?”
“He signed what was necessary,” he said, his outward appearance not reflecting the anger brewing on the inside.
Katrina laughed bitterly. “Necessary? None of this is necessary! You’re freeing that damn girl and taking her mother? What’s gotten into you? Is it because of her? Is that what this is about?”
Fire flared in Corrado’s eyes as he lost his composure. “Enough!”
Carmine’s heart thumped frantically, but Katrina wasn’t fazed. “It is, isn’t it? Trying to make up for the past? It can’t be fixed!”
“I’m not going to tell you again, Katrina.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, closing the distance between them. “You’re screwing up my life over this! Why do these people matter? Just because these stupid DeMarcos fall—”
Corrado’s arms shot out, his hands grasping her by the throat and cutting off her words midsentence. She choked, her manicured fingernails digging into his flesh as she tried to pry his hands off. Even as she drew blood, Corrado didn’t waver.
“Are you done now?” he asked, the eerie calmness returning. Katrina gurgled as she fought for oxygen and words. “Burns, doesn’t it? Imagine how they feel when you torture them. Imagine how she felt that day, Kat, when those men were choking her, when they were violating her, and you did nothing to stop it.”
Corrado continued to stare at his sister, giving no indication he was going to let go. Michael bounded out the front door of the house and gasped. “Stop! You’ll kill her!”
Corrado’s eyes snapped to Michael. There was no emotion in his expression, nothing but darkness. This was the Corrado Carmine feared.
Before he could dwell, a commotion rang out from the stables as the horses reared up, spooked by something. Corrado let go of Katrina, his eyes meeting Carmine’s as he hurried down the steps. Carmine leaped off the porch after him.
“She’s not her,” Katrina screamed. “Just because he’s doing the same thing as his father doesn’t mean they’re the same!”
Those words caught Carmine off guard. He swung around to look at Katrina, not paying attention to where he was going. He ran straight into Corrado’s back as his uncle stopped in the doorway to the stables. Corrado shoved Carmine inside, and sickness rocked through him as the air left his lungs. He dry heaved, trying to breathe through the bile that flooded his chest. It burned, suffocating, and his vision blurred as he nearly blacked out.
Flashes of memory hit him, buckling his knees. The gunshot, the blood, the terror, the hooded figure pointing the gun at him. And there was his mom, lying dead in the darkened alleyway after the shrill screams rang out in the night.
