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“I destroy everything I touch.”
She shook her head. Not me.
“Maybe not you, yet,” he said. “But I will . . . if you let me.”
You won’t. She took a step closer. You wouldn’t hurt me.
“I hurt you when I left,” he whispered. “But I had to do it. I had to.”
He slowly turned in her direction as he lifted his head, and Haven’s heart pounded furiously as he looked straight at her. Instead of the bright vibrant green she had expected, there was nothing but darkness. There was no life, no light, no spark. His words were just as cold. “I would’ve destroyed you had I stayed.”
A violent shiver tore down her spine as she frantically shook her head.
Over his heart, where the words Il tempo guarisce tutti i mali were inked on his skin, a small black circle appeared. She watched, horrified, as it expanded rapidly, his face twisting in anguish as the blackness took over his body.
A loud crack shook the walls as he vanished into the darkness.
Haven sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding erratically. It was pitch black, no streetlights shining through the window, not even the glow from the alarm clock nearby. She rubbed her burning eyes, disoriented, and colored splotches sprung up in her line of sight like splatters of translucent watercolor paint.
A severe storm waged outside, rain splattering against the building as the wind screeched. The noises echoed through the room as a prickly sensation danced across Haven’s feverish skin, almost like there was an electrical charge in the air.
Glancing toward the bedroom door, her panic flared as a thump rang out in the living room. “Dia?” she called out, her voice gritty. She swallowed harshly, trying to get a grip, and pushed the comforter away. Her legs shook as she tiptoed toward the door, pressing her ear against the crack to listen.
A gust of wind whipped by, violently rattling the window, and Haven turned to look. Confusion rocked her as her eyes fell upon the glass, and in the blurry reflection she caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes. Not just any eyes . . . familiar eyes, ones that had beckoned to her since the first time she gazed into them.
“Carmine,” she whispered, the pain in her chest intensifying at the sound of his name. Tears formed and she blinked, trying to force them back. When she reopened her eyes, the image was gone. “Carmine!”
Another strong gust of wind hit and the tears slipped past as she started to tremble. She hit the light switch, frantically flicking it up and down, but nothing happened. No electricity.
Flinging open the bedroom door, she gasped as shadows swept across the living room. She heard the click of the front door and panicked, looking up to see the chain lock dangling, swinging from having been disturbed.
“Dia,” Haven yelled, running to her friend’s bedroom. She pushed open the door without knocking and blinked to clear her vision, dread running through her when she saw the bed was empty. She quickly searched the house in the darkness, finding Dia nowhere.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Haven said, panicking. Running back into the bedroom, she slipped on some shoes and grabbed her things in a frenzy before heading out of the apartment. In too much of a rush to wait for the elevator, she descended the six flights of stairs as fast as she could. She nearly tripped when she reached the second floor, pausing when she heard footsteps in front of her. A moment later they stopped and the outside door opened, a crack of thunder echoing through the building as whoever it was disappeared into the storm.
Rain pelted Haven the moment she stepped outside, the water startlingly cold against her skin. Stepping off the curb, she started to dart across the street for the Mazda when a yellow taxicab pulled up in front of her. A man climbed out from the back seat and was about to shut the door when he saw her.
“You need the taxi, lady?” he asked. She stared at him, debating his question. She had no idea what she was doing, her confusion deepening as she took in his concerned expression. “Hello? Are you all right?”
“Uh, yes,” she said, not sure if it were true or not. She brushed by him, mumbling thanks as she slid into the backseat. Her heart pounded rapidly and she fought back the sickness that built in her stomach as the guy slammed the door.
“Where you headed?” the driver asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Chicago.” The word rolled from her lips before she processed what she was saying.
The driver laughed. “Can’t go that far, but I can drop you at the bus station.”
She nodded in a daze. “Okay.”
He pulled onto the road. The rain bombarded the car, wind gusting and thunder cracking, making Haven jump every so often. She zoned out and couldn’t focus, slipping further and further into a trance. She was too exhausted to stop and think, acting on impulse out of desperation.
When the cab stopped, she handed some cash to the driver without counting it first. She got out, standing on the curb in the pouring rain as the vehicle pulled away. The brick building in front of her was shabby, the blue GREYHOUND sign barely visible through the storm. Buses idled in the side parking lot while a few people lingered inside the brightly lit lobby, waiting.
Haven didn’t have the slightest clue where to start. Her body shook as she approached the thick glass window in the building, dripping water all over the grimy tile floor.
The lady sitting in front of a computer eyed her peculiarly. “Can I help you?”
“I, uh . . . I need to go to Chicago.”
