Page 71 of Sempre (Sempre 1)


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He gaped at her, surprised by her sudden seriousness. “Okay.”

Haven laughed, her carefree expression returning. “Is that an, ‘Okay, I get your point, Haven,’ or is it an, ‘Okay, I’m just going to agree with you, because I don’t know what else to say?’”

She’d mocked him. Him. “You did that all fucking wrong. You didn’t even curse.”

“I don’t curse.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why not?”

“I’ve seen too many people have teeth knocked out from saying bad words.”

“So not cursing kept you all your teeth?”

“No, luck did that. As many blows to the face I took, I should be more disfigured than I am.”

He scoffed. “You aren’t disfigured.”

“My nose is crooked,” she said, matter-of-fact. “There’s a bump.”

He squinted a bit, looking at her nose, but saw nothing wrong with it. “How’d you get this supposedly horrific bump?”

“My mistress kicked me in the face.”

He cringed. “Why did she kick you?”

“Because I scuffed her high heels when she tripped me.”

“Why did she trip you?”

“For fun? I don’t know.”

His brow furrowed. “The bitch tripped you for laughs, got pissed because she scuffed her shoe, and decided to kick you in the nose as punishment?”

She nodded. “Do you want to know the color of the shoes? You’ve asked everything else.”

His eyes widened at her sarcastic tone.

Haven noticed his stunned expression and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “And if you wanna tell me the color of the shoe, by all means, tell me. If you’re sick of my questions, tell me to shut the fuck up.”

“The shoe was red, and I don’t mind your questions,” she said. “I can’t believe I had an outburst like that.”

He smirked. “It’s the drug. It’s why, in the past half hour, you’ve mocked me, gotten fresh with me, and confessed to me.”

“So when it wears off, I’ll be in pain and embarrassed? Probably even in trouble, too.”

“No reason to be embarrassed,” he said. “And nothing will top you escaping out my window, so I wouldn’t worry about being in trouble anymore.”

She picked at her short brittle nails. “Did I get you in trouble, too?”

“No more than I get myself in daily,” he said. “He came up here in the middle of the night and nailed it down, though, so no more scaling trees for either of us . . . until I get it open again.”

“I panicked,” she said. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“He wouldn’t . . .” He wouldn’t kill her? Carmine wasn’t sure if he believed those words. “Why did you think that, anyway?”

“He said the same thing my master said when I saw him murder a girl.”

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