“That’s because there’s nothing to celebrate. It may be the day I was given life, but it’s also the day my life was taken from me. I may be able to hop into the car and drive to the store, but it doesn’t mean anything. Anything I’m told to do, I have to do it or face death. Were you aware of that aspect of my life?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t aware of much. Carmine alluded to the things his father did, but he never elaborated. Nobody did.

Dr. DeMarco continued after a moment. “I’ve watched it happen too many times. Men ordered to murder their own family, and they either do it or die themselves. The man who visited the house? He’s my master, just as—no matter what I do—you’ll continue to see me as your master. Because I hold the key to your survival, just as Sal holds the key to mine. I wasn’t much older than Carmine when I got involved, and I was as stupid then as he is now. He has no idea what it is he’s getting himself into—neither of you do.”

Haven was too stunned to speak. She waited for him to say something else, but instead he picked up his pen. She figured the conversation was over and reached for the book to pass the time when Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out, paralyzing her. “Are you in love with him?”

The book slipped and hit the floor. “Who?”

“You know who,” he said. “Don’t pretend to be dumb with me.”

Bile rose up at his demanding tone. “Yes.”

He grabbed a black case, and Haven’s heart raced as he moved to sit in the chair beside her. He pulled out his laptop and set it on the desk so they both could see. “Carmine asked if you had a tracking chip inside you. I wasn’t happy he inquired about it.”

“I, uh . . . I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to tell.”

“That’s not why I was unhappy. It doesn’t matter to me whether or not he knows. What matters to me—what worries me—is that he’s so interested. The only reason I can come up with as to why Carmine would confront me is if he’s contemplating doing something that would be affected by your chip. And the only scenario that makes sense is my son taking you on the run.”

She froze as Dr. DeMarco opened a program on his laptop. “I’m not going to run away, sir.”

He held his hand up to silence her before punching a few numbers into the program. A map popped up, a red dot flashing in the center of it. “The problem is you’ve been around some of the most dangerous men in the country. Because of that, you’re desensitized to moderately harmful situations. I love my son, but he’s volatile. I was the same way at his age, and I know what results from that. I’m not a horrible man. I have a heart, and I’ve been trying to let nature take its course, hoping everything would fix itself, but Carmine’s growing impatient. He’s digging in deep.”

He pointed at the dot on the screen. “That’s you. No matter where you go, all I have to do is open this program, punch in the code, and it’ll give me your location. Running is only going to get someone hurt, and I can’t let that happen. I’d try to explain it to Carmine, but he’d want answers I can’t give him—answers he’s better off never hearing. So instead, I’m telling you. If you go on the lam with my son, I’ll track you down and kill you. I don’t want to, but I can’t sacrifice him. And if you two are stupid enough to try to disappear, Carmine will end up hurt at the end.”

She stared at him, frightened. The last thing she wanted was for Carmine to suffer.

“I don’t like keeping secrets from my son, but his safety comes first. Because these secrets? They revolve around you.”

He turned off the laptop and returned it to the bag before sitting back down in his chair. Haven remained quiet, trying to absorb what he’d said. Too many people had been hurt because of her. Carmine couldn’t be one of them. She couldn’t let that happen.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Dr. DeMarco said. “I’m walking a fine line trying to distance my son from this lifestyle. When I vowed my life to the organization, I swore they would always come first. Little did I know, years later, they’d expect me to hand over my son. Sal views Carmine as the Principe, a Mafia prince, and if he discovers I spoke out against them, he’ll see me as a traitor. Do you know what the punishment for treachery is in my world? What happens to people when they forget their place?”

She flinched at his choice of words. “Death.”

“So you see the predicament I’m in. You’re helping my son in ways I’ve failed him, but you need to realize I’m trying to help him, too. I’m saving him from something he doesn’t realize he needs to be saved from. I just haven’t found a way out of this without somebody getting hurt, a way where someone doesn’t have to be sacrificed.”

He grabbed his pen again and sorted through papers, subject closed. Haven watched him for a moment before picking up the book from the floor.

Before Haven knew it, the door behind her flew open, and Dr. DeMarco groaned. “How many times do we have to go through this, Carmine Marcello, before you stop entering rooms without permission?”

Haven sat still, staring straight ahead at the desk, her skin prickling as Carmine plopped down in the chair beside her. “I had permission. You told me to be here.”

Dr. DeMarco shook his head. “Give me your car keys.”

Carmine tensed. “Excuse me?”

“What is it with you kids acting ignorant? Give me your keys.”

“This shit again?”

“Son . . .”

Carmine pulled out his keys and threw them on his father’s desk. They landed on a pile of papers, and Dr. DeMarco picked them up before tossing a different set to Carmine.

Carmine looked at him with confusion. “Why are you giving me the keys to the Mercedes?”

“Because it’s not yours.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I figured you’d prefer to use someone else’s,” Dr. DeMarco said, “but if you’d rather her start with the Mazda, by all means take your keys back.”

Carmine shook his head. “You aren’t making any fucking sense.”

“Watch your mouth,” Dr. DeMarco said. “If you’d stop being defensive, you’d see I was telling you to teach the girl how to drive.”

Carmine’s eyes widened. “You’re fucking kidding me?”

Dr. DeMarco groaned. “Sometimes I want to knock the shit out of you, son.”

“You realize you’re cursing at me for cursing, right? What kinda role model are you?”

“Not the type of role model you need. Do what I say, not what I do. You’re too good to follow in my footsteps.”

“Too good to be a doctor?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

There was a subtle sadness in Dr. DeMarco’s expression that struck Haven hard. Up until then, she hadn’t been able to sympathize with him. She could understand him now, could see his fears, and the most startling part was they wanted the same thing.

How was that possible? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“Doesn’t seem so bad,” Carmine said. “Look what it’s gotten you.”

“Looks are deceiving.”

“You’re telling me,” he said. “So, why are we at the hospital? Implanting shit? Running more tests? Or let me guess—it’s a secret?”

Dr. DeMarco’s expression flickered with the same aggravation Haven had seen earlier in the day. “You kids get going. I have patients to see.”

He walked out, leaving Carmine and Haven alone. They sat quietly for a moment after the door closed before Carmine stood up. “It scared the hell out of me when I saw you sitting here. I thought I was gonna have to sucker punch him, grab you, and run.”

His words brought back everything Dr. DeMarco had said. Last week, Carmine told her he’d put her safety above his desires, and now she needed to do the same. She didn’t want him to get hurt, and if that meant giving Dr. DeMarco her loyalty, she’d do it for Carmine.

Because she’d rather sacrifice herself than him suffer a single moment because of her existence.

Haven stepped off the curb and paused beside the passenger door to the car. She and Carmine stood there silently for a second before he cleared his throat. “Why are you over here? You’re driving.”

“Now?”

He jingled the keys in front of her face. “Yeah, why not?”

She took them. “But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll walk you through it. See the black thing with the big-ass red button on it? Push—”

Before he could tell her what to push, she hit the red button. The lights flashed as the horn blared. He hit the button to stop it as she smiled sheepishly. This was about to be a disaster if they couldn’t get the doors open without a mistake. “You see the button with the picture of the opened lock?”

“Yes.”

“Press that motherfucker.” She pressed it, her face lighting up when the car unlocked. He smiled at her expression of pride. “Good. Now get into the car, but don’t touch anything.”

Haven climbed into the driver’s side as he got in beside her, and Carmine laughed at how far back the seat was. He used the controls to adjust it so she could see over the dash and reach the pedals.

She put on her seatbelt and raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to wear yours?”

“Do I ever wear it?”

“No, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Driving is a piece of cake,” he said. “You can’t be that bad at it.”

“Whatever you say.”

“That’s right—whatever I say. And I say put the key in.” She stuck it in the ignition. He waited for her to turn it but she didn’t. “Are you going to start the car or what?”

She glanced at him nervously. “You didn’t tell me to.”

Haven turned the key and the engine roared to life, but she continued to hold it so it kept grinding. “Christ, let go before you burn the starter up or something!”

She pulled her hand away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I should’ve told you, but I figured you’d know that much.”

“I can count the number of times I’ve been in a car on one hand. I know nothing about them.”

“I didn’t think about that,” he said. “Look—gas to go, brake to stop. R is reverse to go backward, D is drive to go forward, and P is park . . . to fucking park. Side mirrors, rearview mirror—you look into them to see what’s around. Got it?”

“I think so,” she said. “What about all of the signs?”

“Stop at the big-ass red octagons that say STOP. The rest aren’t really important. And if the stoplight is red, you stop. If it’s green, you keep going. It’s common sense.”

“What if it’s yellow?”