Sempre (Forever Series #1)(80)

28

The room was encased in bright light when Carmine woke up. His head pounded, his eyes burned. He blinked a few times as he sat up, realizing he was alone.

Stretching, he popped two Tylenol to squelch the hangover before strolling out of the room. As soon as he reached the second floor, his footsteps wavered when Haven stepped into the hallway with his father. Her eyes met his the same time Vincent noticed him. “Do you need laundry done again?” he asked.

“No. Why?”

“Two days in a row you’ve walked around with barely any clothes on.”

He looked down at himself. “My, uh . . . goods are covered.”

“Well, I’m glad at least that much sank in over the years.”

He chuckled. “What, you think you’re too young to be a grandfather?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” he said. “I’m only forty-one. But frankly, I’m just as worried about you picking up something as I am about you impregnating someone. For a while, every time you said the words, ‘what’s this?’ I feared you would expose yourself to show me something suspicious.”

Carmine laughed. “Well, thanks for the concern, but I assure you my dick’s in fantastic shape.”

Vincent shook his head as he glanced at Haven. “You’re excused, child. I’m sure you have things to attend to.”

She practically bolted for the steps as Vincent turned back to Carmine. “Go get dressed.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m indecent.”

“I didn’t say you were indecent, but I have a free day, so I thought we’d go shooting like old times.”

He gaped at him. “Vincent DeMarco cleared his schedule to spend time with little ol’ me?”

Vincent sighed. “Go before I change my mind.”

Chuckling, Carmine headed upstairs and threw on some clothes. He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when Haven walked in. “Are you and Dr. DeMarco going away?”

He nodded, rinsing out his mouth. “We’re gonna go play with our guns.”

“You’ll be safe, won’t you?”

“Yeah, he’s not going to shoot me or anything,” he said. “I tested him a few times, and he even pointed a gun at me once, but he couldn’t pull the trigger.”

Instead of making her feel better, her panicked expression only grew. “He pointed a gun at you?”

“Relax, he’s probably pointed a gun at everyone at some point,” he said as he finished getting ready. “You gonna miss me, tesoro?”

“I always miss you when you aren’t here.”

He put on his coat. “Give it a few more months and you’ll be tired of my ass.”

“Never.”

“Great to hear, but what’s that shit they say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Me leaving means you’ll love me more when I get back.”

* * *

The outdoor firing range was a few miles outside of town in the Swannanoa Valley. The field, about four hundred yards in length, had a covered pavilion with various-sized targets. They’d visited it a few times during the years but hadn’t been back since the incident with Nicholas . . . since Carmine went away.

Carmine had been a decent shot since he was a kid, but Vincent’s aim was impeccable, his hand as steady as a professional marksman’s. His bullet ripped straight through the bull’s-eye effortlessly.

Vincent reloaded his M1 Garand after expelling all the rounds and held it out to Carmine. “Do you want to try the rifle?”

Carmine took it and hesitated before handing his pistol to his father. Aiming, Carmine fired once and smirked when it hit the target.

“That was luck,” Vincent said, loading the pistol and firing it. He hit the farthest target, unloading the rounds into it.

“Fucking show-off,” Carmine said, taking another shot and hitting the target again. “See, that wasn’t luck. That was skill.”

“You’re not so bad,” Vincent conceded. “Nicholas can attest to that.”

Carmine rolled his eyes as his father exchanged weapons with him again. He shot at the target, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words. Vincent unceremoniously fired off a few more rounds before lowering his weapon and staring off into space. Carmine realized it then . . . this wasn’t just a casual shooting trip. This wasn’t just father/son bonding time. There was something on Vincent’s mind, something that would be talked about before Carmine would be allowed to go back home.

If Carmine would be allowed to go back home.

“Is that what you wanna talk about?” Carmine said, knowing he’d have to crack first. “Nicholas?”

“No,” Vincent said. “Unless he’s the reason you’ve been in a good mood lately.”

Carmine stared at his father as those words sank in. He knew.

“I couldn’t help it,” Carmine said, the stress making his voice quiver. “It’s not like I set out for this to happen. It just . . . did.”

Vincent remained silent, his lack of response grating on Carmine’s nerves. “Come on, I know you have an opinion—no need to hold back. I can take it. Tell me how f**king disgusted you are that your son would go as low as to fall for a damn sla—” He faltered, unable to finish the word.