Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(136)

He hoped Haven didn’t have high expectations, because he was probably going to f**k things up . . . as usual.

“Uh, can you start the chicken?” she asked.

He eyed the whole chicken wrapped in packaging on the counter. “Start it, like, put it in the oven?”

“No, I need you to clean it.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘clean it’? I’m not plucking a f**king chicken.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have feathers, but you have to wash it out.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Do I just wash it in the sink or what?”

She nodded and grabbed a cutting board, setting it on the counter beside the sink. “Pull the insides out and run cold water over it.”

He grabbed the chicken and set it down on the cutting board, grabbing a knife and slicing open the packaging. Grabbing one of its legs, Carmine turned it around so the opening faced him. He stared at it for a moment with disgust before glancing at Haven. She was busy cracking raw eggs into a bowl of torn bread to make stuffing.

“I’m supposed to stick my hand up there?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her when she nodded. He took a deep breath and thrust his hand inside, cringing at the feel of the cold poultry against his skin. He came upon a package of some sort and grabbed it. “What is this, anyway?”

“It’s the giblets,” she said, shrugging. “Neck, liver, gizzard, heart.”

Carmine’s eyes widened as he yanked his hand out, taking a step back in disgust. “What the f*ck? Why is that in there, Haven? Who wants a chicken heart?”

Haven grabbed the package and tossed it in the trash. “People make gravy and stuff with them or just eat them whole.”

“People eat the chicken’s heart?” he asked, repulsed. “Please tell me you’ve never fed me that shit.”

She shook her head, laughing. “No, I haven’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else did and you never knew it, though.” She grabbed the chicken and set it in the sink. “Can you wash it out, please?”

“Sure thing.”

He turned on the water and attempted to hold the chicken under the faucet, giving up after a moment and instead grabbing the spray hose. He pressed the trigger, water firing out of it like a gun, and hosed the chicken down. “Is that it?”

Haven wasn’t paying attention to him, wrist deep in a bowl of stuffing, the gooey bread sticking to her fingers.

“Haven.”

“What?”

He pointed the hose at her when she looked his way, on a whim pressing the trigger at close range. She gasped as a blast of water shot her neck, instinctively flicking her hands as she tried to shield herself. Raw stuffing flew in his direction, a clump of it smacking him in the face.

“You bi—” He cut himself off abruptly as her eyes widened, choosing to shoot her again instead of finishing.

Chaos erupted as she dodged toward him, trying to pry the hose from his hands. They wrestled for it, shoving and grabbing, as water from the spray soaked both of them. Haven managed to wiggle past him and got her hand on the faucet, turning the water off as laughter erupted from her chest. “I can’t believe you. I’m soaked!”

“You started it.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You ignored me.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Same difference.”

Wiggling out of his grasp, she grabbed the bowl of stuffing and pushed it toward him. “Can you handle the rest?”

He considered her question. “As long as it doesn’t involve any f**king voodoo shit with chicken hearts.”

She laughed. “Forget about it.”

“No, tell me what to do. Just gimme a job that doesn’t deal with organs.”

“Or water,” she mumbled, looking around. “Can you, uh, chop vegetables?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He smirked. He could work a knife, at least.

Haven pulled out some carrots, celery, potatoes, and onions, and she gave Carmine instructions, but all he heard was that he needed to cut them up.

They were vegetables—how hard could it be?

Haven shoved her mixture in the chicken, instructing Carmine to throw the vegetables in the pan with it. He chopped the celery and carrots with no problem but the potatoes were trickier because she didn’t tell him to peel them first.

Or did she? He hadn’t been listening.

Carmine got to the onion and eyed it suspiciously. Haven looked at him as he removed the skin, but she stopped him before he could cut into it.

“Do you want me to do that?” she asked. He shook his head and she reached past him, grabbing some vinegar and rubbing it on the cutting board. “Vinegar messes with the chemical process so it doesn’t burn as much.”

He raised his eyebrows curiously. “Jeopardy?”

“Just a trick I picked up along the way. Open flames help, too. I can get you a candle.”

“I don’t need a candle, Haven. I can handle an onion.”

She smiled but didn’t respond. Carmine took his knife, cutting the ends off of the onion before slicing it down the center. The moment it came apart, the gases hit Carmine and he blinked rapidly as his eyes started to burn.

Every cut seemed to intensify the sting. He squinted, his eyes welling with tears. It got so bad after a few minutes that his vision blurred, and he blinked to clear it, only succeeding in pushing the tears over the edge. He groaned and cut faster, turning his head to the side to brush the tears away with his arm. He lost focus, cutting blindly, and cursed as pain shot through his finger.