Sempre (Forever Series #1)(164)

Her heart ached to believe his words, but she wasn’t na?ve. Not anymore. It was a life of crime, a world of violence where danger constantly forced its way in. It was a world that turned men cold and cynical as they did unspeakable things she couldn’t fathom. It was a world that had taken both of their mamas and had nearly killed them, too. It was a world they had tried to escape, but one that sucked them in, anyway.

It wasn’t the world she had envisioned for their future.

All she could think about were their plans slipping away. Going somewhere no one knew them, starting over fresh where he could just be him and she could just be her, untainted by slavery and the labels forced upon them. Going to college so he could play football while she studied art—all of it a distant dream. Getting married and having a family—the concept overshadowed by reality. She wasn’t sure what was possible anymore, where they could go or what they could do. Would he be allowed to go to school? Could they bring children into that world?

More importantly, what would happen to Carmine? Could he live that life and be the same person she loved? Could someone do bad things, but not be a bad person? After being brutalized her entire life, how could she accept him becoming one of them?

How had Maura done it?

* * *

Vincent stood at the front of the dim church, staring at the flickering flame of the candle he had lit. It glowed brightly, illuminating his hand as he sullenly made the sign of the cross. There was a quiet shuffling behind him after a moment. Vincent turned to see Father Alberto approaching, clutching a Bible. He nodded at the priest. “Father.”

“How are you, my child?”

“I’m well.”

Father Alberto shook his head. “There are certain people in life you can never fool, Vincenzo, and your priest is one of them.”

“Who are the others?” he asked curiously. “My mother?”

The sober old priest actually barked with laughter. “I’ve known your mother for decades. I can safely say she sees and hears only what she wants, nothing more. It’s a gift with that woman.”

Vincent smiled. “Should you talk that way about people?”

“I’m not judging,” he said. “I’m simply telling the truth. While in church. It’s a nice concept. Would you like to give it a try?”

“Sure.”

“Then I’ll ask again. How are you, my child?”

Vincent hesitated. “Terrified.”

There was no surprise in Father Alberto’s expression. “What scares you, Vincenzo?”

“Corrado’s in the hospital.”

“I heard. Is he getting better?”

“Not that I can tell,” he said. “Celia believes he’ll be fine, that he’ll wake up soon, but I don’t see how. His brain went without oxygen for too long for him to walk away from this.”

“How long was he without oxygen?”

“Almost four minutes.”

“Is it impossible to recover after being down for four minutes?”

“Impossible? No, but it is improbable.”

“A doctor would also say an Immaculate Conception is improbable.”

“No, a doctor would say an Immaculate Conception is impossible.”

“But yet Mother Mary had Jesus.”

“She did.”

“Miracles happen,” he said. “There’s a reason you don’t see what Celia does.”

“Because I’m a doctor?”

“No, because you’ve lost your faith.”

Vincent looked at the priest with disbelief. “If that were true, I wouldn’t come here.”

“On the contrary, Vincenzo. You come here because you wish to find your faith again. You can’t fool God, either. He knows everything, and it’s okay, because He’ll forgive you. The question is whether you’re ready to be forgiven.”

He was quiet, turning back to the lit candle. “I am.”

“Then ask.”

Vincent took a deep breath before speaking again. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Father Alberto’s voice was gentle. “Go on. You’re safe here.”

The word safe made him hesitate again. For the first time since he was that young boy, walking into the church and believing he belonged, he felt like he was truly safe there.

“The first time I killed a man, I was eighteen. I shot him once in the heart with my revolver. He lost consciousness instantly, but it took exactly a minute and twenty-nine seconds for him to stop breathing. I counted. Seems so quick in retrospect, but while I watched it happen, it felt like he’d never die. And the whole time I stood there, all I could think was how wrong it seemed.”

“Wrong because you shouldn’t have killed him?”

“No, wrong because there wasn’t enough blood. Some seeped out onto his shirt, and his nose bled as he choked on a bit, but it was a relatively clean scene. He bled out internally. I thought a shot to the heart should’ve been messier.”

Father Alberto was silent for a moment. “Why did you kill him?”

“He raped my wife,” he said, his voice an octave above a whisper. “I was judge, jury, and executioner.”

“You didn’t think God would make him pay?”

“Yes,” he said. “I just made it so he’d face God sooner.”