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He blanched. “I mean, uh . . . so you’ll do it?”
“Yes.”
Carmine smiled, relief settling in, but it wasn’t near enough to calm his frazzled nerves. Just being within a block of that building put him on edge.
“You’re fidgeting,” Corrado pointed out. “Were you that nervous to ask me?”
“No,” he replied. “I was, but that’s not my problem.”
“Then what is?”
Carmine stared at his uncle, baffled how he could seem so comfortable. “It doesn’t bother you to be here?”
“Why would it?” Corrado eyed him with confusion. “I eat here all the time.”
“Yeah, but . . .” He leaned over the table, whispering. “. . . his kids.”
Corrado had killed them, too. Both of them.
Corrado’s eyes drifted past him toward the front register. Turning, Carmine eyed the owner, John Tarullo, curiously. He only vaguely recognized the man from when he was a kid, remembering eating here a few times with his parents. He knew it had been John, though, that saved him that October day. He owed him a lot—his life, to be precise—but Carmine could hardly stand to look at the aging man.
He was a walking, talking, unhappy fucking reminder of everything Carmine had been through.
Sensing the attention—or maybe it was purely coincidence—John chose that moment to look at the two of them. His expression remained stoic, strictly business, but Carmine could sense the deep sadness in his dark eyes.
“I did what I had to do,” Corrado said. “Had I let them live, had I let them continue as they were, my family would’ve been jeopardized. So no, it doesn’t bother me, but losing one of you? That might.”
Corrado stood, heading for the door, and nodded politely to John Tarullo before disappearing outside.
* * *
After taking a shower and putting on some comfortable clothes, Haven made her way downstairs and saw the light on in the kitchen. Carmine stood in front of the refrigerator with the door wide open, glaring inside of it, home from wherever he had been while she was at school. She didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell.
o;Haven,” he said. “If I could have anything, I know what I’d ask for now.”
She pulled back from their hug to look at him with genuine curiosity. “What?”
Carmine took a step back, reaching around his neck to pull off the gold chain. He unfastened it, removing the small ring, and eyed it in his palm momentarily before dropping to his knee. “If I could have anything in the world, it would be for you to marry me.”
And just like that, all of the air was sucked from the room. She stared at Carmine with shock and his heart pounded furiously as he waited for her to say something . . . any-fucking-thing.
After a moment, tears formed in the corners of her eyes and one slid down her cheek. He brushed it away quickly as she smiled, the sight putting Carmine at ease. That smile was the only answer he needed.
“You wouldn’t ask for your freedom back instead?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be shit without you.”
46
This is completely unnecessary,” Haven grumbled, gazing out the darkly tinted side window. Buildings whipped by at a steady pace as they drove through the streets of Chicago, the scenery a blur in the darkness.
“Mr. DeMarco disagrees, ma’am,” a voice said politely from the front seat.
“Calling me ma’am is unnecessary, too,” she said, glancing at the driver. She noticed he was watching her in the rearview mirror, nervousness written on his face. It was obvious he was new, not wanting to mess up his first chance to prove himself.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he responded, his voice low as he averted his gaze.
She smiled softly as she looked back out of the window, the irony of the situation not at all lost on her. It astonished her how much had changed, their lives altered in ways they never would have imagined at the beginning. Haven often thought about everything that happened to lead them where they were, curious how things might have turned out had the circumstances been different. She knew it was senseless, because it was impossible to change anything, but she couldn’t help but wonder.
