Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(10)

Vincent sat at his desk with his phone to his ear, unaware he was no longer alone. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, periodically huffing as he listened to whomever was on the line.

“That’s not acceptable,” he said, his expression severe. “I understand your situation, but you need to understand mine. I have a family to consider, and you may not care about them, but I do. This is my life we’re talking about so don’t patronize me! I don’t need you to make this out to be something it isn’t, and I don’t appreciate being lied to. Find another way.”

Another brief pause ensued, followed by a sharp, angry laugh from Vincent. “Then count me out.”

Carmine shifted position, caught off guard by the serious conversation. The movement drew his father’s attention. Panic sparked in Vincent’s eyes. He hung up without giving the person a chance to respond and eyed Carmine carefully, but he offered no explanation.

“Who was that?” Carmine asked.

“Lawyer.”

Carmine narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing, bribing your way out of trouble?”

“More like settling things before they tie the knot on my noose.”

“That bad?” They may not have been close over the years, but Carmine didn’t like the thought of losing his father.

“Yes, it’s that bad, son,” Vincent said. “We used to be able to talk our way out of anything, but our power has even less influence than our money these days.”

Curious about his father’s bitterness, Carmine took a seat without waiting to be invited. “Can I ask you something?”

Vincent leaned back in his chair. “Sure.”

“Do you regret getting involved?”

“Yes . . . and no. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, and those I do regret, but taking the oath for your mother . . . I can’t regret that. I wish I wouldn’t have had to, but I did. And I’d do it again.” Vincent paused. “You know, I was furious when I found out what you’d done, and as much as I still hate it, I get it, son. It’s genetic, I guess—ingrained in your DNA. You would’ve sacrificed for her eventually, someway, somehow. You are your mother’s child, after all.”

“I’m apparently yours, too.”

Vincent smiled sympathetically. “Is there a reason you asked? Are you regretting—?”

“No way,” Carmine said. “It’s just, Christ . . . I know it was necessary, but I feel like I f**ked everything up by doing it.”

“I felt that way, too,” Vincent said. “I initiated to free your mother, and all I did was take her from one dangerous world to another. It was dressed up pretty and called another name, but it wasn’t much different. Your mother never got a chance to live a life where no one knew her . . . where no one knew what she’d been. She never got to invent herself.”

Carmine nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Vincent drummed his fingers again. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade the years I had with your mother for anything, and I surely wouldn’t give up you boys. You’re the only thing I ever did right in life. But I’ll never forgive myself for not giving her a chance. I know she loved me, and having a family made her happy, but I don’t think she even realized she had another option. I did it all to give her choices, and then I never told her she had them. I can’t help but wonder, all these years later, how different things would be had I let her go.”

“Mom wouldn’t have left you,” Carmine said.

“She didn’t know any better,” he said. “And that’s the point, really. She never got to choose to be with me.”

“That’s why I feel like I f**ked up,” Carmine said. “I figured I could keep those parts of my life separate, do what I had to while still giving her everything she wanted, but I don’t know if that’s possible anymore. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it and I’m running out of time, considering I’m expected in Chicago after Christmas.”

“I’m not surprised,” Vincent said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a gold key. He fiddled with it for a moment before pushing it across the desk to Carmine. “The key to the house in Chicago.”

Carmine carefully picked it up. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“You’ll need somewhere to stay, won’t you?”

He wanted to argue, to give the key back, but he couldn’t. It was true. He hadn’t thought about what he would do once he got there. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s Haven I’m worried about. I grabbed this notebook of hers today, and I can tell you after reading it that she’s a f**king mess.” He flipped through pages haphazardly, shaking his head when he reached the drawing titled monster. Laughing bitterly, he held up the sketch for his father to see. “Look at this shit.”

The drumming of Vincent’s fingers ceased instantly, his posture rigid as his expression went blank. Carmine’s hair bristled at his father’s posture. Vincent stared at the notebook intently, like he was memorizing the mangled face.

“She’ll be okay,” Vincent said after a moment. “She has nothing to fear from him.”