He wasn’t sure if it was subconscious fear or if his father had shown him at some point, but he never left his fingerprints down there.
Once he had the liquor, he headed upstairs in time for the guests to arrive.
Haven sat on the edge of her bed, picking at her fingernails as sickness stirred in her stomach. She felt out of place, afraid to go downstairs, worried that with one look they’d all know what she was. They’d all know she didn’t belong in their world with them.
There was a soft knock on the door before Dominic peeked in. “Can I come in, Twinkle Toes?”
“Of course,” she said.
He strolled in, using a sword like a walking cane, and sat beside her on the bed. He leaned back on his elbows and things grew quiet as Dominic stared off into space. She wondered why he was here instead of at his party, but she remained silent and let him speak first.
“Nella vita: chi non risica, non rosica,” he said. “In life: nothing ventured, nothing gained. My mom used to tell us that. It’s been a long time, but I can still hear her.”
He smiled to himself, remembering, as Haven conjured her own mama’s voice in her mind, never wanting to forget what she sounded like.
“Mom taught us a lot, but that’s what I remember most. You shouldn’t be afraid to take risks. It might not work out, you might fail miserably and get hurt, but you’ll never know unless you try.” He paused, sighing. “You can play it safe, Haven, and I wouldn’t blame you for it. You can continue as you’ve been, and you’ll survive, but is that what you want? Is that enough?”
Haven had no answer for that.
“Or you could take a risk,” he continued. “I know you have it in you. I can’t promise you’ll get everything you want, but I can promise nothing will change if you don’t try.”
She stared at him, absorbing his words, as Dominic’s expression turned somber. “Carmine wasn’t always such an asshole, you know. He used to be like Mom, couldn’t hurt a fly, but all that changed. Carmine will take physical risks—sometimes I wonder if he has any regard for his life—but anything emotional is out of the question. You’re good for him that way. You’re the first girl he’s looked at as a person and not an object.”
Her eyes widened. “Why am I different to him?”
“I think you remind him of Mom, but he’s the only one who can really answer that.” Dominic stood. “So, tell me. Are we going to play it safe, or are we going to put ourselves out there?”
The party had been going for more than an hour, and there had yet to be any sign of Haven. Carmine strolled through the crowd searching for her and found Dia alone in the kitchen. She had on a colorful dress and bright blue tights, a yellow beak on her nose that matched her sneakers.
“Hey, Polly,” he said, nudging her. “How come you look the most normal on Halloween?”
She rolled her eyes. “Har-har-har. Funny.”
A group of girls burst into the room then, and Carmine groaned when he saw Lisa dressed like a cat in a black bodysuit. “Who invited her?”
Dia grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the kitchen before Lisa could corner him. “I’m pretty sure you did when you were going out with her.”
“I didn’t go out with her,” he said. “It was more like getting into her a few times.”
She cringed. “Gross.”
“Yeah, well, I blame you. You should’ve warned me against doing it . . . or her. Whatever.”
“I tried! You wouldn’t listen.”
The two of them stepped into the foyer just as Haven emerged from the stairs, wearing a shiny gold dress. Fake coins hung from the edges, costume jewelry hanging around her neck with a small crown in her hair. “She’s my treasure?”
Dia patted Carmine’s cheek condescendingly before walking away.
Haven paused in the foyer as Carmine stepped forward, taking her hand. “Bella ragazza.”
Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at their hands. “What does that mean?”
He smirked, pulling her toward the kitchen without an answer to mingle with the crowd. She was attentive, smiling and greeting people like she’d been entertaining company her entire life. Watching her fascinated Carmine, the way she adapted easily to her surroundings. He couldn’t help but think they’d done the world a grave injustice by keeping her locked away.
They were in the kitchen getting drinks when somebody turned the music louder. Carmine grabbed Haven’s hand to twirl her around. She laughed, losing her balance, and Carmine pulled her to him. Buzzing from the alcohol, he wanted nothing more than to feel her close. He gripped her hips and swayed her tense body to the music. “Relax, tesoro.”
The anxiety in her expression lessened. “Will you ever tell me what anything means?”
“Tesoro’s kinda like sweetheart, but it means treasure . . . which, right now, you literally are.”
She blushed, shyly looking away from him, and he took the opportunity to dip her backward. Yelping, she wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled when he pulled her back up. Their noses rubbed together, and he froze when Haven cocked her head to the side and softly brushed her lips against his.
Her strawberry gloss smeared on his mouth, and he licked his lips, too stunned to do anything but stare. Haven backed up a few steps, retreating, and he grabbed her arm when he realized she was about to run. Yanking her to him, he eagerly kissed her without another thought.
It was passionate and messy, seventeen years’ worth of kisses rolled into one stolen embrace. Haven kissed him back, her lips parting as they moved with his. Running her hand along the back of his head, she laced her fingers in the hair by his neck as she trembled, but whether from nerves or excitement, Carmine wasn’t sure.
“Holy shit!”
They broke the kiss at the sound of Dominic’s voice. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, gaping at them. Haven slipped away, bolting from the room before either of them could stop her.
“I didn’t mean to barge in.” Dominic smacked Carmine on the back. “But, man, I didn’t expect to see that.”
Carmine shook his head, dazed. He hadn’t expected it either.
Haven stared in the bathroom mirror, bringing her hand up to her mouth, lips tingling from the force of Carmine’s kiss. Her mind worked rapidly as she tried to sort it out. Did it mean he felt the same sparks she did?
Someone pounded on the door, saying they needed to use the bathroom, and Haven slipped back out, wanting to look for him. She asked Dia, who pointed her to the stairs.
She ran up to the third floor and spotted Carmine in front of her room with a group of boys. A smile tugged her lips as she approached him, and he returned her smile, but it faded fast when the boy standing next to him whispered, “Fresh meat?”
It happened as fast as the flicking of a light switch, smile turned to scowl as hands clenched into fists. Without saying a word, Carmine grabbed the boy and shoved him into the wall, punching him straight in the mouth. People shouted, heading straight for the chaos, as Carmine kicked and hit, unleashing his rage on the boy.
“If you even look at her again,” he spat, “I’ll fucking kill you!”
Haven gasped and ran into her room, locking the door behind her.
The pounding on the door vibrated the walls, ripping Haven back to another time.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Haven lay huddled in the corner stable, covering her ears, but it did nothing to muffle the sounds. She didn’t know what was happening—her mama was gone when the banging woke her up.
Bang. Bang. Bang. It grew louder with time. Where was her mama? Haven squeezed her eyes shut, counting in her head to make it go away. She made it to six before she lost her place, starting over but never reaching ten.
Bang. Bang. Bang. There was whimpering and crying, but it didn’t come from her. It felt startlingly close but so far away, a place Haven couldn’t reach in the darkness.
Bang. Bang. Bang. She heard the voice then, malicious and low. He hissed like a snake as he spoke the scathing words, “If you tell anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.” She didn’t know who said it or what they shouldn’t tell, but the crying grew louder at the sound of them. “I promise I won’t,” another voice spoke, this one heartbreakingly familiar. “Just please—I beg you—leave my baby girl alone.”
Bang. Bang. Bang. It faded, but the silence did nothing to comfort her. She opened her eyes, hoping it was a nightmare, but the first thing she saw was her monster’s vicious face. He stood just outside the stall, buckling his pants as he ogled her.
Her stomach felt as mangled as her monster’s deformed skin. Her chest ached from crying, a void deep inside her. Her mama came back that night, trembling as she hugged her, but she wasn’t there now to calm Haven’s fears.
“Haven?” Carmine’s voice was soft, his banging now a subtle tap on the door. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
14
Vibrant red blood splattered the white wall in the library. Haven was cleaning it with a rag when Carmine’s bedroom door opened. Disheveled, he glared at her. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be doing that!”
He snatched the rag from her hand as her eyes welled with tears. Overwhelmed and exhausted, she couldn’t take him looking at her that way, disgust and anger shining from his eyes. His hand flew in her direction and she recoiled, moving out of his reach. She stumbled and plopped down on the floor.
His face clouded with confusion as he dropped his hand. “I can’t get anything right with you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not understanding. She was only trying to clean up the blood.
He groaned, throwing the rag down as his voice rose with passion. “You’re sorry? For what? Ciò è scopare pazzesco! I’m gonna lose my mind if we don’t stop doing this dance!”
Dance? “What are you talking about?”
He grabbed her arm, and the zap of tingles coursed through her. She wondered why he was touching her, an irrational part of her wishing he’d never stop. When he touched her, she didn’t feel so alone. When he touched her, she felt alive for once.
“Tell me you don’t feel that, and I’ll back off.”
She stared at his hand. “You feel it too?”
“Of course I feel it. I kissed you last night!”
She blinked a few times. “But I kissed you. I shouldn’t have, because you told me you didn’t . . .”
“You barely grazed my lips. I practically assaulted your mouth.” He shook his head. “And you’re right—I don’t do that, which is what makes it so crazy. I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair as he stared at her, his eyes imploring her, but for what she didn’t understand. “Tell me what?”
Her question was met with silence. He slumped against the wall and brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. “I would’ve cleaned up the blood,” he said. “I caused it.”