AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Have you told her of your regret?”
He ran his hands down his face in frustration. “No.”
Father Alberto was quiet for a moment. “Was it her?”
Vincent needn’t answer. They both knew it was . . . and they both knew it wasn’t the first time.
“I was angry,” Vincent said. “The pain that morning was the worst it’s been in years. I wanted someone else to hurt for once. I wanted someone else to feel what I felt. I had to get it out of me before I exploded. I needed to feel better.”
“And did you?”
“No,” he said. “I’m still angry—so angry, Father—but on top of it, now I’m ashamed. I want to stop feeling this way, but I don’t know how to make it go away.”
“Ah, but I think you do,” Father Alberto said. “Judge not, and ye shall not be judged. Condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned. Release, and ye shall be released.”
“Luke 6:37.” Vincent recognized the Scripture. “But what if I can’t stop? What if I can’t let go? What if I can’t forgive?”
“But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”
“Matthew 6:15.”
Father Alberto smiled. “Your hate is poison, Vincenzo. It eats you from the inside out. You must find it in your heart to let go. Then, and only then, will you be forgiven.”
11
Haven stared at the alarm clock as the numbers rolled past midnight. Her broken hours of slumber had been interrupted by nightmares for days, and the thought of closing her eyes terrified her. She desperately wanted some peace, but she’d only been offered deafening silence.
There was no music tonight. Nothing to distract her.
After the boys left for the dance, Haven spent the evening drawing and thinking about her life. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d allowed herself to grow jealous. She longed to be the pretty girl in the pretty dress, going to a dance with the other teenagers.
Tired of wallowing, she crawled out of bed to go downstairs. She headed to the kitchen for a drink but froze when she turned on the light and realized someone was there.
Carmine sat on the counter beside the fridge, his shoulders slouched and a bottle of liquor in his hand. Their eyes met, and even from across the room she could see the passion. A lot of soul lurked beneath his hardened exterior.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.
“You’re not interrupting, Haven. It’s not like I’m fucking doing anything. I’m just sitting here, drinking myself into a coma.” His tone startled her. She considered walking away, but he spoke again before she could. “I sounded like a dickhead, didn’t I?”
Without answering, she brushed by him to open the refrigerator door. She pulled out the jug of orange juice and set it on the counter, reaching past Carmine to grab a glass from the cabinet.
He spoke then, his breath fanning out against her. “Get me one, too.”
A shiver ripped through her as she grabbed a second glass, unable to stop her reaction. Haven poured them both some juice and put the jug back in the fridge.
Carmine’s behavior confused her, but a naïve part of her craved his company. Now that he was there, she had a distraction. And maybe she’d even have the music again.
He tipped his bottle of liquor, grunting after he pulled it from his lips. “Ugh, that’s rough,” he said, his voice gritty. He poured some in his juice, hesitating before dumping a bit in hers. “I don’t like drinking alone.”
Alone. Haven knew how that felt.
She sniffed the drink, scrunching up her nose. “What is it?”
“Why ask me? You can read, so fucking read the bottle.” Her eyes widened, and he groaned. “I sounded like a dick again. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Irritated, she chugged her drink. It still tasted like orange juice, but a bitter edge to it burned her throat. Carmine stared at her as she set her empty glass onto the counter.
“La mia-fucking-bella ragazza.” He chuckled, guzzling his drink. “You have potential, tesoro.”
