Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(12)

“With flowers?”

Celia laughed again. “With excuses, kiddo . . . although, flowers again would be nice. It’s been ages.”

Haven toyed with the hem of her shirt, mulling over Celia’s words. “Doesn’t it bother you to be lied to, though?”

“At first it did. I would get so angry with him, thinking it meant he didn’t trust me. I told him I wanted us to have the kind of relationship where we told each other everything.”

“What changed?”

“He told me everything one day. I never asked him again.” She closed her eyes at the memory, pausing to shake her head. “I think it’s easier for them to not bring that stuff home. It helps to know they have a sanctuary, that one place they can go and not have to be Mafiosi for a while. I’ll never be able to forget the things he said that day, the look on his face as he talked, as much as I wish I could. I don’t like my husband killing, and while I selfishly prefer it to him being killed, I learned that day that I don’t want to hear about it, either.”

Haven wasn’t sure what to say. “I can’t even think about Carmine being that way. That’s not him. That’s not the boy I know. He doesn’t . . . kill.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It wasn’t Vincent, either, believe it or not. Maura was afraid the man she loved would disappear, but they won’t if they have a reason not to. Carmine will always be the same person deep down inside. He’ll see things he’ll wish he could forget, and he’ll have a lot of guilt over things he can’t control, but don’t we all? Your love will still save him at the end of the day.”

Haven frowned. “It doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

“That’s because you’re scared,” she said, wrapping her arms around Haven in a hug. She stroked Haven’s hair with her hand, just like her mother had when she was younger. The ache in her chest intensified. “Neither of you seem to realize fear can be a good thing. It’s healthy and keeps us safe, warns us of danger. When you stop fearing things, you stop fighting. You lose motivation. You lose perspective, and you never want to do that.”

A throat cleared behind them. Celia let go of Haven and turned to look, tensing. Corrado leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. “Am I interrupting?”

Haven dropped her gaze to the floor. She hadn’t seen him since they had shown up. He had remained upstairs, secluded from the family. “No, sir.”

“Of course you are,” Celia said. “We were having girl talk.”

“So I heard,” he said. “I thought we agreed you would stay out of it.”

“And I thought you knew me better than that,” Celia replied. “You really can’t be that dense, Corrado.”

Haven gaped at Celia, stunned anyone would speak to him that way.

“Pardon me for hoping you’d listen to common sense for once,” he countered. “Meddling in other people’s affairs—”

“Only gets people hurt,” she said, cutting him off. “I know. I’ve heard you say it a million times, but they’re just kids, for heaven’s sake.”

“They’re adults,” Corrado said. “What they choose to do in their private lives is none of our concern.”

Celia laughed dryly. “None of our concern? Have you forgotten you vouched for her?”

“That doesn’t mean I own her!” Corrado snapped, shooting Haven a quick glance that sent a chill down her spine. She had never heard him raise his voice before.

Celia narrowed her eyes. “No, but it’s your job to help her.”

“I know what my duties are,” he responded coldly. “I’ll watch her.”

“Like Maura was watched?” Celia raised her eyebrows. “You told me to stay out of it, to mind my own business. A lot of good it did then, huh?”

“Maura was not my responsibility. She was Vincent’s.”

“You’re right,” Celia responded, “but Haven is yours.”

Corrado stood silently and stared at her, his expression blank. Celia stared right back, her gaze unwavering. The tension in the room mounted with each passing second. Uncomfortable, Haven fidgeted, feeling dizzy as the blood rushed furiously through her.

“I, uh . . . I probably shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, turning for the door. She made it as far as the foyer before Corrado’s firm voice rang out, the sound of it halting Haven in her tracks.

“Stop.”

She turned around as Corrado stepped into the foyer, glancing at her briefly and nodding before heading for the great room. She watched him for a second, unsure of what to do, before following slowly behind.

The sun started to peek over the trees outside, but the room remained eerily dim. Haven was as quiet as a corpse as she took a seat on the couch and picked at her brittle fingernails, purposely avoiding Corrado’s powerful gaze.

“Do you know what it means to vouch for someone, Haven?” he asked, breaking the tense silence that quickly enveloped the room like a thick, toxic cloud.

Without looking at him, Haven nodded stiffly. “Carmine said it meant if I ever told about where I came from, you’d get in trouble, but I swear I never will.”

He held his hand up to silence her before she could really start pleading her case. “It’s more than that. It’s not just what you say and who you say it to . . . it’s what you do, too. People like me—we vouch for others every day. Associates, friends, family. We swear they’re good people, that they’ll never bring us any harm. We swear they’re trustworthy. If we’re wrong, it means we lied. It means they don’t benefit us by being out there in the world, by being alive, and frankly, maybe we shouldn’t be either. Your life may be your own now, but I can’t have that doubt lingering over my head, so there are some limitations because of the circumstances.”