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“I think someone was there or something.”
Carmine tensed. “How do you know?”
“I don’t know. I heard a doorbell.”
Carmine pushed past Nicholas and sprinted for the car. His father was leaving town, so no one should have been at the house. He sped through the streets of Durante, trying to figure out who it could be. Salvatore? Had La Cosa Nostra come again?
Fresh skid marks aligned the driveway when he arrived home, ruts dug into the path, but there weren’t any cars in the yard, the house as quiet as he’d left it hours before.
Parking near the porch, Carmine climbed out and looked around, nothing raising any red flags. He unlocked the door and disabled the alarm when it beeped, his blood running cold when he saw the phone lying on the floor in the foyer. Glancing around suspiciously, he tried to remain calm as he made his way upstairs. He didn’t find Haven on the third floor, so he slipped into his bedroom and pulled his gun from the top of his closet. He had hidden it there before he dropped the Mazda off to be fixed, not wanting to carry it in his brother’s car. After checking to make sure it was loaded, he slipped the pistol into his waistband and went back down to the first floor.
His footsteps echoed in the house as he headed toward the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. Haven stood behind the island, her arm drawn back as she clutched a rolling pin. Carmine could see her trembling from where he stood.
If he hadn’t been confused, he might have found it amusing. “Are you okay, tesoro?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
She blinked a few times and continued to gaze at him. “What happened?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking that?”
“Yes, but your nose . . .”
Carmine grabbed his nose, wincing. He’d forgotten about his injury. “Had a little scuffle with Nicholas.”
She gasped. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”
“No, he got me this time.” He cringed, not wanting to admit that. “Why did you call him?”
“Jen was here. Dr. DeMarco told me to call you. You didn’t answer, and she was upset I wouldn’t open the door, so I called him.”
His phone hadn’t worked since he had thrown it at his car. “So, did Jen give up?”
“I don’t know. She threatened me and said—”
“She threatened you?”
“Yeah, but she left, and—”
“What the fuck did she want?”
“I don’t know. I looked outside and—”
Her words faltered as the roar of an engine approached. Carmine stepped over to the window, seeing the truck pulling up out front. “It’s Nicholas.”
Nicholas headed for the house as Carmine went into the foyer and opened the door.
“Everything cool?” Nicholas asked, stopping a few feet away.
“It’s fine,” Carmine said. “You’re not needed here.”
“Carmine,” Haven scolded as she stepped past him. Her eyes darted around as she stepped off the porch and loosely wrapped her arms around Nicholas in a hug. “Thank you. Not many people would’ve done that for me.”
Nicholas stood frozen before halfheartedly patting her back. “Ah, no big deal,” he said, but it was a big deal. Carmine almost felt bad for hitting him, but the throbbing in his nose counteracted any guilt. “So, crisis averted and all that jazz?”
“It was Jen,” Carmine said. “My father must’ve kicked her to the curb. You know how scorned bitches are.”
