Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(119)

So many scenarios flooded her mind as she got out of the car and made her way across the street. She tried to push back her anxiety as she stepped on the porch, but before she could even knock her name was called from down the street. Her vision blurred, her heart rate skyrocketing as she turned around, watching Corrado’s leisurely approach. “Sir.”

“I’m glad to see you’re well.” He eyed her intently, a serious expression hardening his face. Haven immediately grew paranoid, wondering if it was wrong for her to be there.

Panic crept through her at the prospect that she could be in danger. “I didn’t know if I should come.”

“It was nice of you to show up,” he said as he stepped closer. “I apologize for not calling. By the time I had a chance, you’d informed me of your intention to come, so I assumed someone else told you.”

“I saw it on the news,” she said quietly. “They said there was a massacre.”

Corrado scoffed at the word. “It was hardly a massacre. If it was, no one would’ve survived, but Carmine and I walked away.”

“Carmine?” she gasped, horrified. “He was there?”

“Yes,” Corrado said. “And as you can probably guess, he isn’t taking it very well. After Maura’s murder, he didn’t speak to anybody for a long time. It seems he’s dealing with his father’s death the same way.”

“Oh God.” The burn flared in her chest as her eyes filled with tears. “He saw them both die.”

“He did.”

“Is he, uh . . . ?” She motioned toward the door behind her. “Is he home?”

Corrado shook his head. “He’s already gone to the service with my wife.”

“Oh.”

“You’re welcome to join me,” Corrado said. “I’m waiting on the car service to pick me up. Plenty of time to meet them at the cemetery.”

Haven looked down at herself, eyeing her wrinkled shirt and dirty jeans. She had had them on since yesterday morning, having not taken the time to change before leaving. “I don’t really have anything with me to wear.”

“God doesn’t care what you wear, Haven,” Corrado said. “It wouldn’t matter to Vincent, either. But if it would make you feel better, I’m sure there’s something in my wife’s closet that would suffice.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Haven furiously shook her head. “I couldn’t impose like that.”

Corrado let out a sharp bark of laughter. “As much as I’ve already done, a change of clothes is hardly an imposition.”

That silenced her immediately.

“Come,” he insisted. “No excuses.”

Haven quietly followed him to his house and upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Celia. She glanced through the closet, pulling out a plain black dress she found in the back. It was slightly too big but fit better than she expected.

She borrowed a pair of shoes, too, some simple black heels that pinched her toes, a size too small but good enough for the moment. She did little else to prepare, in and out in less than twenty minutes.

Corrado waited downstairs for her, peering out the front door at the black town car parked along the curb. They climbed into it, and Haven shifted anxiously around on the leather seat.

“I’ve tried,” Corrado said quietly a few minutes into the drive. “I’ve done everything within my power for Carmine, but it seems to be beyond my reach. He’s too stubborn and reckless. The way he’s going, he’s doomed.”

Doomed. That word rippled through her, a cold chill striking her bones. “You’ve given up on him?”

“It doesn’t matter . . . not when he’s already given up on himself.”

Before Haven could respond, Corrado’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out, letting out a long exhaustive sigh as he answered the call. “Moretti speaking . . . Yeah, it’s all settled. I’m certain it’ll go according to plan.”

He hung up quickly, slipping his phone back away as his attention once more turned to her. “Is this visit temporary, or do you need to retrieve your things from New York?”

She blanched. “Well, I . . . I don’t know.”

He turned away from her, his eyes focusing straight ahead. “Let me know when you figure it out.”

* * *

The long, gold-toned casket stood out strikingly on the grassy knoll, a makeshift memorial of colorful flowers surrounding it on all sides. A crowd of mourners gathered, dozens of people dressed in their most expensive black clothing, their heads bowed and gazes cast away, as if avoiding having to face reality. Sorrow and misery wafted around them, the atmosphere stifling with pain lingering in the air.

Haven paused a few yards away from the service, her knees weak. Dr. DeMarco’s cold body lay in that box, his heart no longer beating and the life expelled from him. He was gone, never again to open his eyes and see another day.

The air seemed to be forced from Haven’s lungs at the thought, dizziness blurring her vision. She took a few steps to the side to lean against a tall maple tree in order to catch her breath as Corrado continued on, infiltrating the crowd. She scanned them as she composed herself, catching brief glimpses of Celia and Dominic, but the others were shielded from view.

She wanted to go closer, desperate to see Carmine, but her feet wouldn’t move no matter how hard she tried to make them.