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“What are you doing?” Corrado asked, pressing the muzzle of his gun underneath Carmine’s chin.
He shook, stunned. “I, uh . . . fuck! I don’t know. I just thought . . .”
“You aren’t paid to think,” Corrado said. “You’re paid to follow orders and I don’t recall telling you to follow me.”
“You didn’t tell me not to, either.”
“What did you say?” The sound of Corrado’s finger releasing the safety of his gun sent a cold chill down Carmine’s spine. “I’m tired of your disrespect.”
“I didn’t mean it! I just . . . had to know. I had to see, Uncle Corrado.”
Corrado froze briefly, not moving or making a sound.
“You think I won’t kill you because you’re Vincent’s child?” he asked, his voice menacingly quiet. “Do you honestly believe I’m that soft?”
“No, sir,” he said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut at his words. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Corrado put the gun away and let go of Carmine. “There’s no justification for you following me. Where I’m going doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t it?” he asked, trying to stop trembling as he stood up straight. “If you’re going where I think you’re going—”
“What did I just say?” Corrado asked. “I told you in Durante to make your decision and you did. You need to be a man of your word.”
“So I’m right?” he asked exasperatedly. “You’re going to her?”
“You have no right to intervene.”
“I’m not trying to intervene,” he said, shaking his head. “I just . . . Christ, I wanna know where she is, what she’s doing. Why the fuck you’re running off in the middle of the night. Is something wrong? Is she hurt or something?”
Corrado stared at him as he rattled off questions, his expression blank, but Carmine could see the annoyance in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have been questioning him, but he needed something, anything . . . just a bit of information to keep him going.
Glancing at his watch, Corrado sighed impatiently. He looked as if he were going to speak and hope swelled through Carmine, but it was trampled when he instead raised his gun again. Carmine recoiled as his uncle fired off two shots in his direction, the unexpected noise startling him. Carmine turned to look incredulously, seeing the driver’s side tires of his car rapidly deflating.
“If you’re going to tail someone, at least be discreet about it.” Corrado placed the gun back in his coat. “Call for a tow truck and go home. I don’t need you slowing me down any more than you already have.”
“Just fucking great,” Carmine muttered as his uncle walked away.
Corrado paused. “That’s an order, Carmine.”
20
Haven nervously watched the clock, waiting for the black rental car to slowly pull up the street. It parked in a free spot directly in front of the brownstone, and Corrado climbed out, fixing his tie and looking around before heading inside. He tapped once on her door, patiently waiting for her to open up.
She started stammering as soon as he entered, trying to explain what had happened, but he held his hand up to stop her. She flinched from the sudden movement and he froze. “I have no intention of harming you.”
Haven stood still by the door as he checked out the place. The apartment appeared undisturbed and Haven felt ridiculous, wondering if Corrado had flown out for nothing.
“Is your upstairs neighbor home?” he asked.
“Uh, no, not yet,” she said. “Kelsey stayed with a guy last night.”
“Look around and tell me if anything has been taken,” he said. “I need to check her apartment and make sure neither of you have been bugged.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sorted through things, taking inventory, and found nothing missing. Even the cash she kept in a drawer was still there. Always use cash, Corrado had said, never leave a paper trail.
Corrado came back downstairs after a bit, leaving the door open a crack as he lingered near it. “The place is clean. Anything missing down here?”
