Sempre (Forever)

by JM Darhower

  Corrado slammed him against the building. “How many people are inside?”

  “Five or six, I think. Maybe more.”

  “Not a good enough answer. Think harder.”

  “I saw six.”

  “Better,” Corrado said. “Are they all armed?”

  “The ones I saw were. They always are.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You better figure it out,” Corrado said. “Now, before I kill you.”

  “Shit! Okay! Nunzio’s the only one I know. He talked me into this. I didn’t realize what he was doing at first. I didn’t know he was—”

  His rambling was cut off when Corrado slammed his gun into the side of his head. “I’m only interested in names.”

  “Nunzio… that girl of his, the nurse.”

  Vincent’s anger festered, seeping into his taut muscles. “Jen?”

  “Yeah, her. There are some other guys I don’t know, foreigners. And there’s an older man that’s in charge. Ivan, I think.”

  “And what about the girl?” Corrado asked. “Haven?”

  “Oh, uh, I know they have her, but I haven’t looked around. I’ve only gone in twice, and I never went past the doorway.”

  “You haven’t seen her at all?”

  He shook his head frantically as headlights of an approaching car flashed in their direction. They all tensed as the black BMW blacked out its lights and crept down the street. Vincent walked to the front of the building cautiously, watching as it stopped less than a block away. The passenger door opened and a person hopped out before the car pulled out of sight.

  Vincent’s eyes widened when they stepped under a street light, giving him a clear view of his son. Carmine was haphazardly approaching the building, clutching a gun in his shaking hand.

  Corrado groaned. “Stop him.”

  Vincent sprinted across the street as Carmine went for the door. His hand grasped the handle just as Vincent reached him, and Carmine turned in his direction.

  “Da—,” he started, but Vincent dragged him away before he could react. He cursed and stumbled. “What the fuck? Christ, she might be in there!”

  “Keep your voice down,” he said. “You can’t just walk in!”

  “What the hell else am I supposed to do?” he asked, frantic. “Do you know how long it’s been? Do you know how long she’s fucking been gone? I have to find her!”

  “I know, but you can’t go in blindly! We’re here, we’re on it.”

  “About fucking time. Do you know what I’ve been through?”

  “Calm down.”

  “You want me to calm down? Fuck you!”

  Groaning, Vincent grabbed his son’s arm and dragged him across the street. Carmine resisted at first, but he was too exhausted to put up a fight. Vincent took him to where Corrado stood in the darkness with Dean huddled against the wall at his feet.

  Corrado shook his head. “You must not have any sense of self-preservation left.”

  “Fuck my life,” Carmine said. “She’s worth dying for.”

  “And what happens when you die?” Corrado gave him a pointed look. “What happens to her then? Your carelessness is going to get her killed. You’re in the fold now. You need to start thinking like one of us.”

  Carmine shot his father a panicked look. “Whatever, I need to save her, that’s what I need to do.” He looked around, frazzled, and motioned toward Dean. “Who is this?”

  “He’s a friend.”

  Carmine’s brow furrowed. “If he’s a friend, why’s he on the ground?”

  “He’s more of a friend to Nunzio, it seems,” Corrado said.

  “Wait, he’s in on this?” Carmine rushed forward and grabbed Dean by the collar. “She better not be hurt! What did you do to her?”

  Dean frantically shook his head. “I didn’t do anything to her! I haven’t seen her!”

  “What the fuck do you mean you haven’t seen her?” Carmine snapped, slamming the boy back against the building. “You took my girl from me, and I want her back!”

  “He’s so much like you it’s almost disturbing,” Corrado said, glancing at Vincent as Carmine kicked Dean hard in the ribs.

  “He’ll kill him,” Vincent warned. “He can’t tell us anything then.”

  Corrado sighed and grabbed a hold of Carmine, begrudgingly forcing him away. “Enough.”

  Vincent helped Dean to his feet. “Where were you going?”

  “Uh, food,” he said. “I was supposed to get food.”

  The brush nearby ruffled. Carmine and Vincent reached for their weapons as a precaution, but Corrado didn't move. He addressed the person without even turning around. ”Giovanni.”

  “Corrado, Vincent,” Giovanni said, strolling up to them. “Nice to see you gentlemen again.”

  Carmine looked at his uncle. “How did you know it was him?”

  “I always know my surroundings,” Corrado said, his attention going right back to Dean. “Is the front door the only way in?”

  “I think so.”

  “If you want me to show you any mercy, you’re going to walk back inside and say you were jumped by some thugs. Say they stole your money and Squint’s keys. Do you understand?”

  Dean nodded and staggered away as the four men positioned themselves in the shadows beside the entrance. Vincent pulled his gun out as Carmine followed, the tension coming from him intense. He was fidgeting, making Vincent uneasy. “You’re pissed at me, aren’t you? I had to do it. I needed to find her. I need her to be okay. She has to be safe.”

  “I don’t see how throwing your life away helps anything, but now isn’t the time for this.” He needed to remain calm, and dwelling on what his son did was going to get him riled up again. “We’re going to go in here and end this, and no matter what we find, we’ll deal with it.”

  Within a matter of seconds, the door was thrust open and a vaguely familiar Russian man with blonde hair rushed out. He froze, raising his gun as Corrado and Giovanni ducked inside the building, but Vincent was faster. Aiming, he fired off a round that hit him square between the eyes. The back of his head exploded as blood splattered everywhere, and he staggered before slamming to the ground. Vincent grabbed the door and slipped inside, momentarily stunned by what he saw. People were clamoring and dodging flying bullets, the sound of most of the gunfire muffled by silencers. Carmine came in behind him and cursed, ducking to the side in the flurry of gunfire.

  Corrado stood beside the front door, firing at Ivan, while Squint hid behind a table a few feet away, loading a gun. Vincent fired a few shots as Squint finished and pointed his weapon to fire back. Vincent’s first two bullets barely missed as he shielded himself, but the third one struck him in the chest. A loud gasp escaped his mouth as he slumped backward.

  Something nearby caught Vincent’s attention as a bullet whizzed right by him, grazing his neck. He flinched at the searing pain, giving Squint enough time to get the upper hand. He fired off some rounds back-to-back, a bullet ripping through Vincent’s left shoulder as even more flew by him. His arm started to go numb, burning coursing through his upper body as his son screamed behind him.

  Vincent turned at the sound as Carmine grasped his right arm, blood flowing onto his shirt. Carmine recovered and grabbed his gun as Vincent swung back around to Squint.

  He’d shot his son. He was going to pay.

  Firing quickly, Vincent took a few steps toward Squint. His vision narrowed with the flash of the gun barrel as he pumped bullets into him. Three slammed into his chest, piercing his heart. Horrid gasping noises tore from him as he struggled to breathe.

  Vincent paused over Squint, glaring down at his incapacitated form. Squint was trying to pull himself away, straining his body to get a hold of his gun, but the life was fading from him. Vincent aimed at his head and stared him in the eyes, not an ounce of fear in Squint’s expression as he stared back. Cold and heartless, even down to his last seconds. No remorse for what he’d done.
<
br />   “Arrivederci,” Vincent said.

  There was a flash of fire in Squints eyes at the word as he picked up his gun. Vincent fired off rounds in succession, bullets ripping through his skull.

  Squint’s finger pulled the trigger as a knee-jerk reaction, a bullet flying off to the side as his body violently shook. Vincent didn’t stop until the gun clicked and every round was dispensed, leaving the mangled form unrecognizable.

  He didn’t have any time to dwell. Before he could even switch out weapons, the deafening sound of an AK-47 ripped through the building. Bullets slammed all around him, and Vincent ducked for cover as he grabbed his second gun. He flicked the safety off and started firing at the man with the weapon, hitting him in the leg. The man stumbled but continued to shoot, another bullet grazing Vincent in the chaos.

  Giovanni ran from the gunfire but couldn’t dive for cover fast enough. Bullets tore into him, and he cried out, attempting a few wayward shots as he collapsed.

  Vincent’s gun clicked as he ran out of ammunition, and he struggled to reload as Carmine started shooting a few feet away. One of his bullets hit the man in the back, and he staggered, struggling to stay on his feet. Corrado aimed at that moment, firing three rounds into his head without hesitation. He fell backward, his finger clutching the trigger and wildly spraying bullets as he collapsed. Corrado stumbled a few steps as he was hit, but he stayed on his feet.

  A female’s piercing screams shattered the air when the man hit the ground, the sound sending a cold chill down Vincent’s spine. Carmine immediately ran in the direction of the noise, and Vincent chased after him as more shots rang out. Corrado covered them by shooting at Ivan. Carmine froze after a moment, and Vincent ran straight into him.

  The mattress in the corner was filthy, a body folding into itself on top. Jen blocked their view as she stood over it, her eyes wide with fear. She threw her hands into the air as if to surrender. “Please! Carmine, Vincent, I’m so sorry!”

  In that moment, it seemed as if the world had paused. An eerie silence fell over them as they stared at her. The moment passed just as quickly as it came, however, and Carmine reacted… but Vincent was faster. He stepped forward to block Carmine’s line of sight and pulled the trigger, shooting her between the eyes. Riddled with shame, he stood over her as she dropped to the ground, her life diminishing.

  He couldn’t let his son be the one to carry that burden.

  Ivan grabbed a discarded AK-47 from the floor. Vincent lunged for Carmine, throwing him to the ground as the spray of bullets rang out. They fired back, bullets tearing into Ivan from all directions. Vincent watched in horror as Corrado was hit and dropped to his knees.

  Vincent jumped up, his rage taking over, and three bullets hit Ivan in the head. He rushed toward his brother-in-law as Ivan dropped hard, taking out a metal chair on his way down. Vincent glanced around cautiously to make sure it was safe before dropping his gun and crouching down. Corrado was wheezing and clutching his bloody chest, his face pale.

  “Let me see,” Vincent said, prying Corrado’s hands away. He ripped his shirt open, exposing three entrance wounds on his chest. “This isn’t good, Corrado. We need to get you to the hospital.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, pushing Vincent away as he struggled to get to his feet. He swayed a bit but stood on his own, refusing help.

  “Haven!” Carmine’s voice pulled Vincent’s attention away. His breath left him at the sight of Carmine sitting on the edge of the mattress, pulling the limp body into his arms.

  Vincent approached, fearing the worst. She was barely recognizable from the girl who had stood in his house a few weeks earlier, instead resembling the girl he’d picked up more than a year ago. She’d dropped a lot of weight and was severely dehydrated, her skin blotchy and lips tinged blue.

  Carmine cradled her in his arms. Vincent squatted down beside him and grabbed her wrist. Her pulse was weak, her hand freezing and arm twisted in an odd direction. Vincent could see her chest moving rapidly, her breaths shallow. Feverish, her pupils were constricted. She didn’t react with any of her reflexes, her neurological system not functioning normally.

  In less than a minute, Vincent knew what was wrong. The problem was he couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Is she okay?” Carmine caressed her face. “Christ, why isn’t she waking up?”

  “I’m assuming she’s been drugged.”

  “But is she going to be all right?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “You’re always trying to play doctor with me, and the one goddamn time I ask you for help, that’s what you give me?”

  “I need to get her somewhere to thoroughly assess her,” he said. ”She’s alive.”

  “And she better stay that way,” Carmine said. “Haven, baby, I need you to wake up. You have to make it. I can’t do this if you don’t.”

  Vincent’s chest ached at his son’s outburst of emotion. “I’ll do what I can for her.”

  “She better make it,” he said. “If she doesn’t, I’ll fucking kill them all. Every single one of them.”

  Corrado’s voice rang out beside them. “Too late. They’re all already dead.”

  Carmine glared at his uncle. “Well, we’ll bring those motherfuckers back to life then.”

  Corrado tried to take a step, but his knees buckled. Vincent grabbed him before he hit the floor. “I need to get you to a hospital right now.”

  He scoffed, pushing Vincent away. “I’ll take myself and make something up. You need to get some men over here to clean up this mess.”

  He walked away, his pain visible in his movements, but he didn’t verbalize it. Corrado looked at the bodies scattered around, shaking his head when his eyes fell on Giovanni. “Che peccato.”

  “I know. It’s a pity,” Vincent said, pulling out his phone as Corrado staggered toward the door. He watched him, worry eating away at him. “Are you sure about this? You’re losing a lot of blood, and I don’t know if—”

  “Don’t be ignorant, Vincent,” he said. “Get Haven to my house and fix her before your son resorts to resuscitating people just to kill them again.”

  Corrado paused near the exit and pulled out his gun, turning back around. He glanced across the room where young Dean sat quietly in shock and fired three times into the boy, startling Carmine. “Fuck! I thought you were going to show him some mercy!”

  Corrado let his gun drop to the floor. “I did show him mercy. What I did was a lot more humane than what would’ve happened had he still been breathing when Salvatore arrived.”

  * * * *

  All Haven could see were fireworks.

  Flashes of light broke through in the darkness, loud bangs ringing out in the distance. She didn’t know what was real anymore, where she was or what was happening, but the one thing she was sure of was the fireworks.

  It reminded her of the day Carmine had taken her to the party. She could still feel him, and a million butterflies invaded her system, leaving her weakened and dizzy.

  “Just fireworks, tesoro—nothing to be afraid of,” he’d said. “They’re loud, but they won’t hurt you.”

  She believed his words as she lay there, just as she had the day he first spoke them. She felt no fear and believed they couldn’t harm her. Nothing would. Carmine would come for her, and he'd save her, because that was what they did for each other. Although she was drowning, slipping further away, she knew she would be fine as long as she didn’t give in.

  They couldn’t have her spirit. She wouldn’t let them win.

  So as she lay in the darkness, listening to the fireworks all around, she fought to hold on with what little strength she had left.

  The fireworks faded, the moment lost, but his faint voice continued to register with her ears. The tiny hairs on her arms stood up as her skin tingled, the sensation so real that she could smell his cologne. It drew her closer to the surface as it swirled all around. She wondered if it was a mirage, like a thirsty man in the midst of a hot, dry desert
who saw a lake that wasn’t there. Was she so desperate for him to come that her senses were tricking her into believing he had?

  Yes, she thought. She must be hallucinating again.

  Light filtered through her eyelids as Carmine’s voice grew louder. She forced her eyes open at the sound, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. Everything was hazy, but she could make out the familiar face, the sight of it nearly stilling her weary heart.

  It didn’t even seem to want to beat right anymore.

  Carmine turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were clearer than everything else, the green color striking amidst the fog. “Fuck!” he spat, sending chills through her body. Her vision blurred even more, and she blinked rapidly, anxious to stay conscious. “Fucking Ninja, you scared me!”

  “Carmine?” She winced from the burn in her throat.

  “Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d find you. I was never gonna give up.” His voice was fueled with emotion as he ran his hand along her cheek. His skin was warm, his touch gentle. “God, I fucking love you.”

  She tried to reach for him, but the movement sapped every ounce of energy from her. Everything started to go black again as soon as her hand dropped. The image in front of her twisted, noises fading out as if she were drowning again.

  “Happy New Year,” she whispered as he disappeared.

  Chapter 50

  Haven had no way to gauge how much time passed while she was out—it could’ve been hours or days, even months for all she knew, but one thing she was certain of was she was never alone. She could sense them, vaguely familiar voices cutting through the thick fog, but it always faded away just as quickly as it came.

  Slowly, she started having brief moments of lucidity, ones she knew to be real because of the pain. She was numb except for a strange tingle in her limbs, but occasionally sharp stings would pull her from her dreams.

  She heard noises during one of her spells and pushed to regain consciousness. She was in a dark room and couldn't make out anything besides a form standing a few feet away. It took a moment for her to recognize the woman. “Miss Clara?”