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He stood and aimed at nothing in particular, firing off rounds in the direction the shots had come from. Running to the driver’s side, he cursed when he tripped over Nicholas. Shame overwhelmed him as tears stung his eyes, but he fought to hold himself together for Haven’s sake.
Bullets whizzed by him as he ducked inside the car. Haven curled into a ball in the passenger seat, sobbing. He fumbled with the keys as he laid the gun down between them.
He threw the car in gear and swung it around, slamming the gas to get away from the house. He reached over and brushed Haven’s hair aside to get a good look at her as he flew down the driveway. “Are you okay, tesoro? Talk to me, please.”
She flinched when he touched her. “Nicholas! We can’t leave Nicholas!”
“We have to,” Carmine said. “It’s too late for him.”
She shook her head hysterically. “But he was just helping!”
“I know, hummingbird.” He swung the car onto the main road. He wasn’t sure what else to say. “I know.”
He tried to focus on the road, but something caught his eye in the rearview mirror. A black car sped straight for them. “Fuck.”
Haven glanced behind them. “Oh God.”
“Put on your fucking seatbelt,” he said. She froze for a split second before snapping it on. Carmine wanted to say something to comfort her, but he wasn’t sure those words even existed. The vehicle rapidly approached as gunshots cut through the air again, bullets hitting the back of the car. The right rear tire blew out as it was struck, the car jolting, but Carmine managed to keep it on the road. A moment later the left tire shredded, the screech of metal rim against the highway drowning out the sound of gunfire. Sparks flew, and Carmine’s panic deepened when he realized they couldn’t outrun them now. He grasped the steering wheel to brace himself and looked at Haven, unparalleled devastation reflecting in her eyes.
“Carmine,” she said. The sound of his name on her lips made his chest swell with love despite the fear. Nothing would ever overpower it. He stared into her deep brown eyes, and it seemed as if time stopped. It always would, he realized. Carmine’s world wouldn’t go on without her.
“I love you, too,” he said, struggling to fight back the emotion so as not to scare her. “Sempre.”
The moment he said the word, the black sedan rammed the back of their car. They skidded off the side of the road toward some trees. Carmine threw his hands out instinctively to protect Haven, knowing it was too late to stop it. He thrust forward and hit the steering wheel, pain ripping through his chest as the air left his body.
Blackness stole him instantly.
46
The airbag deployed with a loud pop, silencing Haven’s screams as her seatbelt locked into place. Slamming into it, she gasped for air, unable to take a breath until it deflated. She glanced at the driver’s side, her chest on fire as she tore off her seatbelt. Carmine was slumped forward, his airbag splattered with blood from his face. Haven screamed his name, pawing at him, trying to find some sign of life, and she cried out with relief as he took a shaky breath.
The slam of a car door nearby alarmed Haven. The black sedan was parked alongside the road, everything hitting Haven at once as four men approached, all of them shrouded in black masks.
They were a blur in her panicked state, their rapid approach severing any grip she might have had on herself. She considered trying to run, but she wouldn’t leave Carmine when he couldn’t fend for himself. “Carmine, I need you! Please!”
Her distress skyrocketed as the men neared, their voices muffled to her ears. Glancing around the front seat, she spotted Carmine’s gun on the floorboard. Her heart pounded vigorously. She hesitated for a split second before grasping it with trembling hands.
Someone appeared at the driver’s side, and Haven pulled the trigger as a reflex. It sounded like an explosion in the confined space, and she yelped, remembering to keep a grip on the gun so it didn’t slip out of her hand. The bullet shattered the driver’s side window and grazed the man’s face. He grasped his cheek and turned as someone screamed, the man behind him dropping to the ground a few feet away.
The first man ripped off his mask as he spun back around, and Haven shrieked when she recognized Nunzio. He whipped out his pistol and reached into the window, grabbing Carmine by the hair. Yanking his head back, Nunzio pointed the gun to his temple the same time the passenger door opened and a gun pressed to the back of her head.
The person behind her spoke, his voice heavily accented. “Drop the fucking gun, sweetheart.”
She let go of it instantly as the man grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the car. He threw her to the ground and picked up the weapon, checking it as Nunzio slammed Carmine’s head against the steering wheel.
“Please,” she screamed, feeling sick as the word rolled from her lips. “Please don’t hurt him!”
“Shut up,” Nunzio said as the man tossed him Carmine’s gun. “Did your boyfriend teach you how to use this thing? I never understood what Sal saw in him. Principe della Mafia, the future of the organization. He doesn’t have the brains for this.”
He glared at her, an eerie silence surrounding them as Nunzio slipped Carmine’s gun into his coat. “Get her up. We don’t have time to dick around.”
The man yanked Haven to her feet and pulled her toward their car. She hyperventilated, frantically looking for some way to escape.
“What about him?” a third man asked, glancing at their partner on the ground. His voice also carried an accent.
“Leave him,” Nunzio said. “I would’ve killed him, anyway.”
“And the kid? DeMarco?”
