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Forever, 0. Into the. One wrong choice. That was all it. Darhower online from Australia's leading online eBook store. He shoved away from his classmates and grabbed a towel, holding it to his forehead to soak up the blood as he The secretary in the front office barely glanced at Carmine when he busted in, throwing himself down in a chair to wait without a word.
She casually radioed to the principal, notifying him someone was waiting. Principal Rutledge came out a moment later, merely casting Carmine a look that told him to join him. Carmine took his usual seat in the cracked brown leather chair in the small office, still clutching the towel to his head as he sprawled his legs out in front of him.
She was a curvy girl with brown hair and hazel eyes. DeMarco, Jack Rutledge here… Yes…. As many times as he'd been to the emergency room, he'd never ridden in an ambulance before. Vincent sat at his desk, wearing his reading glasses with his arms crossed over his chest. He motioned for Carmine to come closer and checked his wound. You've been back in Durante for less than a month, and you're already picking up where you left off.
There are only going to be so many get-out-of-jail-free cards, Carmine. You just got into a scuffle last week with someone else. Graham started that one.
Someday you're going to get yourself in a situation that has no way out, and then you're finally going to have to learn to live with the consequences. After a few minutes, the door opened and a blonde-haired girl in hot pink scrubs walked in.
Jen If ever the word 'gold digger' was to make it into the dictionary, Carmine was sure her picture would be plastered right beside it. Three stitches and a double dose of Percocet later, Carmine was strolling toward the exit, feeling like he was floating on air.
Vincent cornered him in front of the building, still scowling. We'll finish talking when I get there. His car was parked in a spot reserved for a doctor, right in the front near the building. Reaching into his pocket for his keys, his brow furrowed when he felt a piece of paper. He climbed into the car, debating for a moment before starting through town. Since he was already going to be in trouble, he figured he might as well make it worth it.
It was a habit she'd had all of her life. Her mama used to say that before Haven could even talk, she was humming, It had calmed her as a baby, soothed her, and as she went about her work, it had a similar effect.
The words to the songs were long forgotten, but the melodies continued to play in her head. It always brought Haven back to an earlier time—a time when things were still innocent and happy. She'd hum, and suddenly the sun shined a bit brighter, the world around her not as dark as she knew it could be. Used to having every detail of her life controlled, she had a hard time sorting through things on her own. She'd already upset Dr. DeMarco once asking something. How many chances would she get before he snapped?
So she just did what came naturally to her. That afternoon, she scrubbed the hardwood floors and cleaned the bathrooms. She dusted and vacuumed, but stayed out of every room that was locked.
She found a clear plastic bottle in the supply closet, labeled in black lettering that it was for use on the windows. They were the only dirty part of the house, so she cleaned them as high up as she could reach. She was sorting through canned goods in the pantry when she heard a car outside, the alarm in the foyer beeping as the front door opened.
Footsteps headed in her direction and her heart thumped wildly. Panicked, she She stammered, her stomach growling before she could get out a coherent thought. He laughed.
She stared at the sandwich with surprise but took it carefully. She couldn't recall the last time she'd eaten anything, too nervous to touch their food on her own. Haven took a small bite as Dominic cleaned up after himself, the entire exchange surreal. She couldn't believe he'd served her, the servant. Chapter 3 Haven sat on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, her gaze trained on the floor.
She could see Dr. DeMarco's shoes from the corner of her eye, a small trail of dirt on the carpet behind them that he'd dragged in from outside. The sudden urge to clean it hit her, but she remained still, not wanting to offend him. It was a few minutes past six in the evening, and he'd just arrived home from work. She'd slipped back up to her room after eating her sandwich earlier in the day, feeling out of place downstairs with someone there. You did clean them, right? She flinched when his hand shot out, but her reaction didn't stop him.
Grasping her chin, he pulled her face up and forced her to look at him. Just make sure the house is clean, the beds are made, and the laundry is done, and we shouldn't have any problems. Dinner is to be on the table at seven every night, unless Itell you otherwise. Got it?
DeMarco let go of her, and she looked away. Eye contact with him was uncomfortable. He turned to walk out of the room but stopped in the library when he realized she was right on his heels. Take the night off. The words ran through her mind but refused to sink in, as foreign to her as another language. Who are these people? It was too still, the silence in the room deafening. She'd never been on her own for so long before. Even at night in the stables the animals had kept her company while she slept.
She usually had her mama to count on, and she realized, as she lay in the dark room, that she'd taken her for granted. She had no one now.
She was all alone. Did she know what happened, or was she imagining her out there somewhere, getting help? Haven imagined her standing on the front porch of the ranch, gazing out at the desert and waiting for a sign. Waiting for rescue. Waiting for her. Would they be somewhere together? She imagined them having their own house, with a picket fence and a fluffy white kitten to keep them company.
They'd name her Snowball and she'd climb their tree at Christmas, tearing down the lights and scattering pine needles. They'd have presents and hot chocolate, and there would be snow outside. Haven had only ever seen snow in pictures, but her mama talked about it sometimes. She told her how beautiful it was when it blanketed the ground, how the cold flakes tasted when they landed on your tongue.
Haven asked how she knew, since she'd never had a life other than the one they had. I always go to the snow. Flakes stuck to her hair, and she glowed, smiling as she twirled around in the snow. She was happy—happier than Haven had ever seen her before. She was living a normal life, the kind of life she always should've had. She felt like she was running again, the air suffocating as she struggled to breathe, but no matter how hard she fought, she knew she'd get nowhere.
She was trapped. The soft melody comforted Haven. She relaxed as some of the tension left her body, but it did nothing to shut off her mind. She lay awake, listening to it as she stared at the clock, wishing for relief.
Haven climbed out of bed after the music stopped and wiped the tears from her face. Leaving the bedroom, she quietly slipped into the library. She wandered along the tall stacks, running her fingertips along the spines of the books. She kept the light off, not wanting to draw any attention, but the window let in enough of a glow for her to see.
A strange sense of peace For the first time in a long time—possibly ever—Haven almost felt safe. She walked to the window and gazed out, the sky lightening as the sun started to rise. The back yard was lush and green, trees scattered throughout the clearing with the edge of the forest a few hundred yards away. Haven wondered how far the trees went and which direction the closest town was, how long it would take someone to get there on foot.
Eventually, a quiet cough alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone anymore. Carmine strolled toward the stairs, a white bandage on his head that hadn't been there yesterday.
The sight of him made something inside of Haven twist. His gaze shifted in her direction, and he jumped, grabbing his chest. You couldn't turn on a light? You're worse than a damn cat sneaking around.
Maybe you need a bell. Don't let him see you cry, she silently chanted. What are you even doing here? He gazed at her peculiarly. No, this definitely Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. She recoiled from the tone and pressed her back against the window. His moods were changing too quickly for her to get a read on his frame of mind.
Looks like you've been to Hell and back. If you don't wanna tell me, all you have to do is say so.
No need for a bullshit response. Itried to, uh It's none of my business, anyway. He still didn't look convinced, but she wasn't sure what else she could say. He shrugged, dropping his hand. She frowned. It was sickly, its fur scraggly and tail chopped off.
It infested the house with fleas and clawed up the furniture, scratching them more times than they could count. Needless to say, it didn't last long. Two weeks later the cat disappeared. Carmine never asked what happened to it.
Frankly, he didn't care. When he was fourteen, it was two dogs. The first was a little ankle biter with kinky yellow fur. It didn't last a week. The second dog was a pit bull with one eye and deformed ears. His father tied it up in the back yard, and it barked all night, keeping them all awake. Carmine could barely function in school the next day, and when he got home, the dog was gone. So Carmine wished he could say he was shocked when his father brought home a girl, but he wasn't.
He figured he was just picking up strays once again. His father was downloading the girl things. He hadn't even bought the last dog any food. That fact weighed heavily on him as he strolled down the He told himself it was sheer curiosity fueling his thoughts, but the truth was, in just one day, the strange girl had gotten under his skin.
It irritated him, keeping him awake all night long, like a tiny little hammer chipping away at his insides. He was hunched over his laptop with his reading glasses low on his nose. Lesson learned, son. Inow know Ican't count on you. I'll make it up to you. Ialready asked someone else. Would you want me doing the shopping? She doesn't even wear underwear.
The bell rang just as Carmine climbed out of the car at school. His classmates rushed around him, but he just stood there in the parking lot. He had a test in first period and an oral report to give in second, neither of which he was prepared for.
He turned to see Meghan Rutledge in her black and white Durante High tennis uniform, her hair neatly pulled back with a ribbon. What do people do when they skip? She blushed, her eyes downcast.
An hour and a half later, Carmine waltzed into his second period classroom and disrupted the American History teacher, Mrs. Anderson, in the middle of a lecture. She smiled curtly. DeMarco, I'm happy you could join us. You're just in time to give your presentation on the Battle of Gettysburg. She motioned toward the front of the room, and he begrudgingly took his place as she sat behind her desk.
It was, like, s. Anderson corrected him. General Lee led his army up from the South; they met the North in Gettysburg. A bunch of people died on both sides, hundreds of thousands.
Abraham Lincoln came and gave the Emancipation Proclamation. Anderson said. The slaves were all freed. Hurrah, hurrah. The end. Anderson shook her head.
Anderson's face clouded with anger. Anderson stood up, and Carmine started toward the door before the words could even come from her mouth. He strolled down the hall, in no rush to see the principal again so soon, and froze in the lobby when he heard voices. Carmine snickered when he noticed her skirt was crooked, but his I want to know what you did, young lady. The house was silent when Carmine made it home.
He headed to the third floor and paused when he reached the top of the stairs. Standing in the library, in the same spot she'd been hours earlier, was Haven. She stared out into the backyard with a vacant look on her face, her arms wrapped around her chest. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and she flinched but didn't look his way.
After a moment, he strolled over and paused beside her. Her body grew rigid as she held her breath, and he could feel the tension rolling off of her when their arms brushed together.
The simple contact wouldn't have even registered with him if not for her reaction. I saw you here hours ago. It wasn't until that moment that he realized she was wearing his shirt and pants, vaguely recalling his father taking them from his room. She shook her head. Ihave none. She'd have clothes if he would've done what his father asked of him. DeMarco got rid of them.
There was something strange about the way she stood motionless but still managed to seem like she was fidgeting. It made him uneasy. No need to give them back. His bedroom was cluttered, his possessions haphazardly strewn around the floor. Shoes were scattered among the heaps of dirty clothes, his hamper sitting empty in the corner of the room. His desk was covered with papers and books, a laptop buried somewhere in the mess.
It never bothered him. He was used to it, nothing about his life neat or tidy. He felt safe there, tucked into the chaos, surrounded by the things only he controlled.
It was that which he craved—control over his life—because it was the one thing Carmine felt he never got to have. A loud succession of bangs pulled Carmine from his sleep. He climbed out of bed and staggered to the door to find his father standing outside.
He barged into the room, stumbling over some stuff that was lying on the floor. Grumbling, he kicked it out of the way. Carmine watched with shock as he opened a drawer, furiously pushing things around and tossing half of it on the floor.
He slammed the drawer after not finding what he was looking for and moved onto the next one. Fumbling through it, he pulled out the silver American Express credit card and So I got tough and sent you away. But no, you come back home and start the cycle all over again.
The fighting, the back-talking, the disrespect You're not getting any of my keys. You're on restriction. I mean it this time. You'll go nowhere but to school, and you'll stay there. No more cutting class. You'll do your work, you'll watch your mouth, you'll keep your hands to yourself, and when that last bell rings, you'll come straight home. That's it. Nothing else! Itell you! Carmine clenched his hands into fists.
Just like that? I'm just living the life you gave me! Carmine groaned as he pulled out a set of keys. But you know what? I don't care anymore. Go ahead and take football. You may as well, considering I lost everything else because of you! Ipaid for the car. Give me the damn keys. Vincent threw the keys at Carmine, hitting him in the chest with them.
Idon't need your money anyway. DeMarco had brought them in, saying they were just necessities, but Haven had gone her whole life without so much stuff. She glanced around at them, thinking it had to be some sort of misunderstanding. DeMarco said, standing in the doorway behind her. She unpacked them carefully, hanging the clothes in the closet and putting the bathroom items away.
Used to having a bar of white soap, she had no idea what things like bath salts and pumice stones were for. She changed into some fresh clothes, taking off what belonged to Carmine, before heading downstairs to start dinner. Cooking, according to Miss Clara, was an art. There was no need for recipes or instructions, because the best meals were made with intuition and heart.
DeMarco walked in as she was finishing a pot of spaghetti, and she stood back, nervously awaiting his reaction. He scanned the meal before nodding. Durante, on the other hand, with its slow pace and temptations of normalcy, intimidated her. She cleaned during the day and cooked at night before hiding away until everyone was in their rooms. Wandering around the room, her mind would drift as exhaustion took hold of her. While it was easier, there were little things that knocked her off kilter.
The strong mint flavor of real toothpaste, hot Wearing shoes made her feet hurt. You will love, hate, despair, cry, laugh, and swoon. The small hairs on the back of your neck will stand to attention and your heart will beat out of your chest. You will feel frustrated, pissed off and curse this Author, well I did, but as it all comes together and your eyes and heart is opened even further you will just quite simply cry.
The journey we go on is one of severe obstacles, growth, peace and revelations. I fell in love with Carmine in book 1 because his heart was pure gold. That still being so, he faces a real challenge and is tested beyond boundaries. I completely got it though. He sacrificed himself for the love of his life. By him making the choice he did; in his mind, he saved Haven and gave her the opportunity and the life he believes she deserves.
He had handed control of his future over to the men, they hated most in exchange for her life. Her identity stamped firmly and clearly.