Sempre (Forever Series #1)(34)

“Ah, but I think you do,” Father Alberto said. “Judge not, and ye shall not be judged. Condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned. Release, and ye shall be released.”

“Luke 6:37.” Vincent recognized the Scripture. “But what if I can’t stop? What if I can’t let go? What if I can’t forgive?”

“But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

“Matthew 6:15.”

Father Alberto smiled. “Your hate is poison, Vincenzo. It eats you from the inside out. You must find it in your heart to let go. Then, and only then, will you be forgiven.”

11

Haven stared at the alarm clock as the numbers rolled past midnight. Her broken hours of slumber had been interrupted by nightmares for days, and the thought of closing her eyes terrified her. She desperately wanted some peace, but she’d only been offered deafening silence.

There was no music tonight. Nothing to distract her.

After the boys left for the dance, Haven spent the evening drawing and thinking about her life. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d allowed herself to grow jealous. She longed to be the pretty girl in the pretty dress, going to a dance with the other teenagers.

Tired of wallowing, she crawled out of bed to go downstairs. She headed to the kitchen for a drink but froze when she turned on the light and realized someone was there.

Carmine sat on the counter beside the fridge, his shoulders slouched and a bottle of liquor in his hand. Their eyes met, and even from across the room she could see the passion. A lot of soul lurked beneath his hardened exterior.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.

“You’re not interrupting, Haven. It’s not like I’m f**king doing anything. I’m just sitting here, drinking myself into a coma.” His tone startled her. She considered walking away, but he spoke again before she could. “I sounded like a dickhead, didn’t I?”

Without answering, she brushed by him to open the refrigerator door. She pulled out the jug of orange juice and set it on the counter, reaching past Carmine to grab a glass from the cabinet.

He spoke then, his breath fanning out against her. “Get me one, too.”

A shiver ripped through her as she grabbed a second glass, unable to stop her reaction. Haven poured them both some juice and put the jug back in the fridge.

Carmine’s behavior confused her, but a na?ve part of her craved his company. Now that he was there, she had a distraction. And maybe she’d even have the music again.

He tipped his bottle of liquor, grunting after he pulled it from his lips. “Ugh, that’s rough,” he said, his voice gritty. He poured some in his juice, hesitating before dumping a bit in hers. “I don’t like drinking alone.”

Alone. Haven knew how that felt.

She sniffed the drink, scrunching up her nose. “What is it?”

“Why ask me? You can read, so f**king read the bottle.” Her eyes widened, and he groaned. “I sounded like a dick again. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Irritated, she chugged her drink. It still tasted like orange juice, but a bitter edge to it burned her throat. Carmine stared at her as she set her empty glass onto the counter.

“La mia-f**king-bella ragazza.” He chuckled, guzzling his drink. “You have potential, tesoro.”

She smiled. “Thanks, I think.”

“It’s a compliment,” he said. “And you’ll get more where that one came from if you do it again.”

He hopped down from the counter and poured two more glasses of juice, adding some liquor to both. Haven took a deep breath as she picked hers up. It was a lot stronger the second time, the burn harsher. She barely got half of it down before pulling the glass away with a cough. “Goodness, that’s strong.”

“Yeah, I loaded that one,” he replied. “Don’t chug anymore. If you do, you’ll pass out, and I’d really like some company.”

A swell of emotion shot through her, the longing returning. He wanted her company, too.

He held the bottle up. “And it’s Grey Goose vodka, in case you’re still wondering.”

* * *

They went up to the third floor to Carmine’s bedroom. He set his drink on his desk and sat in the chair, but Haven hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

“You can sit anywhere you want,” he said, sensing her dilemma.

She took a seat on the edge of his bed and anxiously took a sip of her drink.

“So let’s play a game or something,” Carmine suggested. “How about twenty-one questions?”

Her nerves flared. She had no idea what that was.

He took notice of her bewildered expression. “We take turns asking each other questions until we hit twenty-one. Only rule is you can’t lie. I don’t give a shit what it’s about—just no lying.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “You go first.”

Her hand trembled as Carmine gazed at her from across the room. He sighed and stood, taking her glass and setting it on his desk. After pulling out his keys, he unlocked his bottom desk drawer. “How do you feel about drugs? And that doesn’t count as my question. I just wanna know before I do this.”

“Uh, I don’t know much about them.”

He pulled out what looked to her like a cigar and lit it, the room filling with a pungent woodsy odor. He brought it to his lips and inhaled as he crouched down in front of her. “The weed will relax you, okay?”