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“Oh, I want to! It’s just . . . what if your father finds it?”
“Don’t worry about him,” he said. “I got you covered.”
Her eyes glossed over with tears as she opened it halfway. “I don’t think I can read this. There are a lot of different words.”
“Well, I think you can do it,” he said. “Besides, you have help now.”
“Help?”
“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want help, fine, but I’m happy to do what I can.”
She looked down at the book again. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed her word. “Is that an, ‘Okay, I’d like to do this reading shit with you,’ or is it an, ‘Okay, you’re really fucking nuts if you think you can help me?’”
She merely smiled, the sight of it telling him it was probably a combination of the two.
He kicked off his shoes and sat down next to her, playing a few chords on his guitar as she read the book. It made him warm inside, and for a while, it felt like it was normal . . . like they were normal. Just a boy and a girl, both of them a bit fucked up, but they were just themselves.
And he savored it.
He tried to keep his attention off her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but from the corner of his eye he could see the look of concentration on her face as she sounded out words. “What’s tyr—uh, this word?”
He set his guitar down and rolled onto his stomach, peeking over to see what she pointed at. His chin rested on her shoulder. “Tyrannical. It’s like a tyrant. You know, like a master.”
She turned to him, their faces so close the tips of their noses touched.
12
Haven stood in the kitchen, her mind wandering as she made cookies. She’d slipped out of bed an hour ago, her nerves on edge about last night. Her body controlled her when she was around Carmine, her heart taking the lead over her mind. Her mind told her it was ridiculous, dangerous to spend time with him, but her heart told her it was right.
She’d preheated the oven and put a batch in when there was a knock on the front door. Glancing out the window, she saw a small white car in the driveway. Whoever it was knocked again, more forceful the second time.
She couldn’t open the door. The alarm was enabled, and she still didn’t have a code. Quietly locked in a dilemma, she was relieved when Carmine stomped down the stairs. “Whoever’s at the fucking door better have a search warrant.”
Haven strolled to the doorway as he answered the door. Before he could say a word, someone shoved into him, barging into the house. “You’re such an asshole!”
While Haven was stunned, Carmine’s expression remained blank. “Lisa.”
“How could you do that to me last night?” Lisa spat, glaring at him, the look on her face reminiscent of Mistress Katrina yelling at Master Michael. She wondered what Carmine could have done to ignite such fury, but he wasn’t giving any indication of a response.
Carmine glanced toward the kitchen as Lisa repeatedly cursed at him, and he smiled when he spotted Haven watching. Lisa noticed the exchange. “Is she the reason, Carmine? That bitch?”
Carmine’s smile fell. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up right now.”
“I thought you were better than that! Look at her!” Lisa glared at Haven. “How much is Dr. DeMarco paying you to screw his son?”
Her words set Carmine off. He grabbed Lisa’s arm and swung open the front door with so much force it slammed into the wall. He pulled her out to her car while she continued to yell, flailing and trying to strike him, but Carmine ducked out of the way. He yelled back—Haven couldn’t hear him, but she could see his mouth move furiously—and slammed his hands against the hood of her car.
The oven beeped, the cookies done. Haven pulled them out as the front door slammed, rattling things on the kitchen counter. Carmine walked in and paused beside her at the window. “You should have answered it and told her I wasn’t home.”
“I couldn’t. I don’t have a code.”
He looked at her peculiarly as he grabbed one of the peanut butter cookies from the rack. Taking a bite, he turned away. “Eat a cookie, Haven. They’re good.”
* * *
Dr. DeMarco arrived home as Haven was putting the cookies in a container. He walked right to her in the kitchen, stopping so close his arm brushed against hers. Her skin crawled, his presence alarming, and she fought back a shudder.
