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“Don’t be ignorant, Vincent,” he said. “Get Haven to my house and fix her before your son resorts to resuscitating people just to kill them again.”
Corrado paused near the exit and pulled out his gun, turning back around. He glanced across the room to where young Dean sat quietly in shock and fired three times into the boy, startling Carmine. “Fuck! I thought you were going to show him some mercy!”
Corrado dropped his gun to the floor. “I did. Death is a lot more humane than what would’ve happened had he still been breathing when Salvatore arrived.”
* * *
All Haven could see were fireworks.
Flashes of light broke through in the darkness, loud bangs ringing out in the distance. She didn’t know what was real anymore, where she was or what was happening, but one thing she was sure about was the fireworks. It reminded her of the day Carmine had taken her to the party. She could still feel him, and a million butterflies invaded her system, leaving her weakened and dizzy.
“Just fireworks, tesoro. Nothing to be afraid of,” he had said. “They won’t hurt you.”
She believed that as she lay there, just as she had the day he first spoke those words. She felt no fear and believed they couldn’t harm her. Nothing would. Carmine would come for her, and he would save her, because that was what they did for each other. Although she was drowning, slipping further away, she knew she would be fine as long as she didn’t give in.
They couldn’t have her spirit. She wouldn’t let them win.
So as she lay in the darkness, listening to the fireworks, she fought to hold on with what little strength she had left.
The fireworks faded, the moment lost, but his faint voice continued to register with her ears. The tiny hairs on her arms stood up as her skin tingled, the sensation so real she could smell his cologne. It drew her closer to the surface as it swirled all around. She wondered if it was a mirage, like a thirsty man in the midst of a hot, dry desert who saw a lake that wasn’t there. Was she so desperate for him to come that her senses tricked her into believing he had?
Yes, she thought. She must be hallucinating again.
Light filtered through her eyelids as Carmine’s voice grew louder. She forced her eyes open at the sound, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. Everything was hazy, but she could make out the familiar face, the sight of it nearly stilling her weary heart.
It didn’t even seem to want to beat right anymore.
Carmine turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were clearer than everything else, the green color striking amidst the fog. “Fuck!” he spat, sending chills through her body. Her vision blurred more, and she blinked rapidly, anxious to stay conscious. “Fucking ninja, you scared me!”
“Carmine?” She winced from the burn in her throat.
“Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d find you. I was never gonna give up.” His voice was fueled with emotion as he ran his hand along her cheek. “God, I fucking love you.”
She tried to reach for him, but the movement sapped every ounce of energy from her. Everything went black again as soon as her hand dropped, noises fading out as if she were drowning again.
“Happy new year,” she whispered as he disappeared.
50
Haven had no way to gauge how much time had passed while she was out—it could have been hours or days, even months before she slowly started having moments of clarity, ones she knew were real because of the pain. She heard noises during one of her spells and pushed to regain consciousness. She was in a dark room, but she could make out a form standing a few feet away. “Dr. DeMarco?”
“Yes, it’s me.” He pulled out a stethoscope and pressed it against her chest. She jumped from the unexpected coldness, pain ricocheting through her from the movement. “Try not to move.”
“It hurts,” she said, tears falling.
“I know it does.” He placed his hand against her forehead, and she lay as still as possible as he checked her over. The scene was dreamlike. “You’re not real.”
Dr. DeMarco’s brow furrowed. “I’m not real?”
“You’re not really here,” she said. “I’m dreaming again.”
“Oh, I’m really real.” He paused as a small smile took over his lips. “At least, I think so.”
She tried to smile in response, but she was weak and wasn’t sure if it worked. “I don’t understand. How did you get here? Where’s Carmine?” Fear paralyzed her. “Did Nunzio kill him?”
She tried to sit up as she looked around the room frantically, but Dr. DeMarco blocked her. “Calm down, child.”
“I can’t.” Her voice cracked. “Where is he? Is he hurt? Is that why he isn’t here?”
