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I smiled back, and even though his words rang with false bravado, they still made me feel better.
We walked to the car and got in. He pulled out and drove slowly to campus.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, glancing at me. His eyes drifted from my lips down to my leg.
I realized I was rubbing it. I hadn’t noticed how much it ached until he brought my attention to it.
“I’m okay,” I said, forcing myself to stop. I suddenly wanted a pill, but refused to do it in front of him. And besides, I took two the night before. I needed to relax on that.
“You seem stressed.”
“I was at a wedding that was attacked by violent, murderous bikers yesterday,” I said, suppressing a smile. “Can you blame me?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, I guess I can’t, but I meant more than I expected.”
I was quiet for a bit. Memories swirled in my brain. “It was the sound of breaking glass that did it.”
“Did what?” He sounded gentle. It was a strange tone coming from a man like him.
I decided to tell him. Not the whole truth—I wasn’t ready for that—but most of it. I rarely talked about the accident, and never told someone about it after only knowing them for a little while, but Carmine was different. Maybe it was the way he looked at me with such sincere concern, or maybe it was the way he touched me like he wanted to hold at bay all the demons and monsters that threatened to hurt me. I didn’t know why, or what, or how—but I decided to tell him.
“I was ten when one of my father’s enemies attacked me.” I sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. I heard screams. Yells. Gunfire. “I was in a convoy of several cars riding from my father’s compound to my grandmother’s house further out in the country. I went to see my abuela at least twice a month. I loved her so much and looked forward to spending time in her little cottage. Those were very good days.”
I closed my eyes and let the memory play. Carmine said nothing. I heard his steady breathing. Like a rock I could hold on to.
“They came out of nowhere,” I said. “One second, we were driving along on his stretch of road out in the desert somewhere, and the next, they were attacking. They rammed the lead car and started shooting. There was so much yelling and noise, and one of the attacking cars rammed into our truck. I was thrown forward, and the seat in front of me pinned my leg to the door as the truck rolled and rolled. I remember screaming and yelling and pain, so much pain, and then nothing. The truck stopped. I was smashed, my leg hurt so badly, and I could barely breathe. Glass was everywhere. Blood everywhere. I think I passed out.”
I stopped talking. There was more. So much more. An entire saga that had changed my life. But I couldn’t tell him that part. If I did, I’d damn myself, and while it felt good to speak of the accident in these general terms, I couldn’t go that far. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to.
“How did you survive?”
“They must’ve thought I was dead. When I woke up, everyone was gone. I think they came for my father, you know? They thought he was in the cars, but he wasn’t this time. He’d stayed behind to do something, I don’t know what. But I woke up and there was nothing and nobody. I yelled and yelled until I finally had to pull my leg free. It hurt so bad I think I passed out for a while longer. When I came to, the sun was setting. I… I left the wreckage behind. I dragged myself through the desert sand. My fingers were bloody. My palms were ripped to pieces. But I found a nearby ranch, and they helped me. Everyone else died. I was the only one that survived.”
Most of that was true. The part about the ranch. The part about dragging myself away.
But I told a lie. An important lie. One that haunted me and always would.
Carmine put his hand on my good leg. His fingers were gentle but so rough. “The attack triggered that trauma for you, didn’t it?”
I smiled at him. “Do gangsters know much about psychological trauma?”
“You’d be surprised. We’re hard men, but we’re still humans. We have to learn how to live with terrible things.”
“If you know a trick, I’d love to hear it. Because I hadn’t figured it out yet.”
He shook his head. “Some things have to be personal.”
“I thought so.” I put my hand on top of his. We laced our fingers together as he pulled onto campus and parked.
