She trusted him, when she’d never trusted anyone in her life. And she knew she shouldn’t, especially him. He was the son of the man who controlled her—his family held her life in their hands. They could kill her, and she’d be defenseless to stop it. But she trusted him anyway. She could feel it in every inch of her body, every beat of her frenzied heart.
Something about this boy had burrowed under her skin.
Carmine leaned forward, pausing an inch from her mouth. She parted her lips, inhaling everything he gave her, and closed her eyes as she tasted his breath.
His face grazed her cheek, the sparks from his skin sending tingles through her body. She could feel the slight stubble of his facial hair, rough and scratchy, as he inhaled deeply. He breathed her in, and she allowed herself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—this frightening creature could want the same thing she craved.
She held on as long as she could, not wanting to let go, but her body’s need for oxygen won. She exhaled as Carmine got up, but she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to face reality yet.
Carmine slipped out of the bedroom, needing to put some space between them. She had him twisted. Up was suddenly down, left was now right, and everything surrounding him was a blur. It was difficult for him to admit he was as inexperienced as her. He could fuck a girl senseless, but when it came to loving one, he had no clue what to do.
Love. The word perplexed him. He wasn’t swimming in lust anymore. This was uncharted territory, and he was fucking drowning.
Carmine walked over to the library and flicked on the light. Blinking a few times, he scanned the titles on the bookshelves, grabbing one before heading back to the bedroom. Haven lay on her stomach on his bed, her feet up by his pillows. He gave her a small smile and shut the door behind him, holding the book out to her. “The Secret Garden. Thought you might like it.”
She took it. “What’s it about?”
He shrugged. “A garden, maybe? A secret? I don’t know. Read it and tell me.”
“Uh . . .” she started, her brow furrowing as she eyed the cover.
He chuckled. A book flustered her. “Look, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you write a book report. Just thought it would give you something to do.”
“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.
Dr. DeMarco snatched a cookie before she could put the lid on. “Morning, dolcezza.”
“Good morning, sir.” She paused. “What does that mean?”
“Dolcezza?” He took a bite, smiling kindly. “Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
Dr. DeMarco made a pot of coffee, something Haven hadn’t dared to try since the morning everything went terribly, horribly wrong, and poured a cup before walking out. She brushed the flour from her clothes and finished cleaning before heading into the family room, where everyone had gathered. Carmine glanced at her from the spot he had taken on the couch.
“Dad,” he said, his eyes remaining on her. “I’m gonna teach Haven how to read.”
Fear shot through her. Dr. DeMarco raised his eyebrows. “I assumed to teach someone to read, you’d have to know how.”
Carmine rolled his eyes. “I can read.”
“Yeah,” Dominic interjected. “Didn’t you know? He read the first page of The Count of Monte Cristo.”
“Vaffanculo,” Carmine said.
Dr. DeMarco sighed as he turned his attention to Haven. “Take a seat, child.”
She couldn’t tell whether it was an offer or a demand, but it was safer to just do what he said. She took the empty seat beside Carmine, folding her hands in her lap, tense and nervous. Carmine, on the other hand, had his feet casually kicked up on the coffee table as he slouched with boredom.
There was a knock on the door after a while, but no one got up to answer it. They knocked again before the door opened, a female’s voice ringing through the downstairs. “None of you can answer the door for me?”
“Hello, Tess,” Dr. DeMarco said as the girl strolled into the family room. Tess glanced around at all of them, her eyes lingering on Haven for longer than she was comfortable with, before squeezing in the chair with Dominic.
Haven turned to the television and tried to focus on the movie, but Carmine kept inching closer to her, his presence clouding her mind.
“Doc, did your son tell you he beat up Lisa’s car this morning?” Tess asked.
“I hit it once,” Carmine said. “It only left a small dent.”
“Well, you better find a job to pay for that dent,” Dr. DeMarco said. “I’m not forking the bill for you anymore, remember?”
“I shouldn’t have to pay for anything. She deserved it, busting in here like a damn interrogator.”
Those words drew Dr. DeMarco’s attention from the movie. “Why did she interrogate you?”
“She wants a relationship or something.”
Dr. DeMarco laughed. “That’s what happens when you lead girls on.”
“Whatever, I don’t lead them on. And regardless, maybe I deserve the shit, but Haven didn’t deserve to get dragged into it.”
Dr. DeMarco’s eyebrows rose. “How did that happen?”
Carmine shrugged. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
“I don’t think she meant any harm,” Haven said quietly.
“Bullshit,” Carmine said. “Lisa knew what she was doing.”
Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “You shouldn’t be put in the line of fire with Carmine’s puttani.”
Haven had no idea what puttani were, but she had a feeling it wasn’t nice. “I’ve survived worse.”
Dr. DeMarco’s gaze was intense. “Yes, you have.”
Everyone turned back to the television, but Haven fidgeted in her seat. Uncomfortable, she wanted a reason to leave the room and leaned toward Carmine. “Do you want something to drink?”
He shrugged. “You can bring me something.”
She stood up, taking a few steps toward the kitchen. “Do you need anything, Dr. DeMarco?”
“No, thank you.”
“I’ll take a bottle of water,” Tess chimed in. “Thanks for asking.”
Haven paused, frightened she had made a mistake, but Dr. DeMarco alleviated her worry. “You’re capable of getting your own water, Tess. There’s nothing wrong with your legs.”
Haven made a cherry Coke for Carmine and grabbed a bottle of water for herself, hesitating before getting a second one. She headed back into the family room and handed it to Tess. Tess raised her eyebrows as she took the water without saying a word.
Haven sat back down and handed the soda to Carmine. “You didn’t have to do that. Actually, you didn’t have to do any of it.” He brought his glass to his lips and took a sip. “I appreciate it, though.”
