Redemption (Sempre 2)

She was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why? Don’t you like it?”

Haven shrugged. Every single one of them looked the same to her—just like the hundreds of others they had passed along the road on the way. “It’s fine with me.”

Letting go of her hand, Carmine studied the tree, deciding how to go about taking it down. Haven watched him for a moment, the scene surreal, and burst into laughter when he took his first swing. It barely even sliced the thick bark.

Carmine’s groaned. “What’s so funny?”

“This is going to take you all day,” she said. “We should’ve just picked one that was already chopped down.”

“That’s cheating,” he said. “Just because it’s the easy way doesn’t mean it’s the best way. Sometimes it’s better to put in the work.”

Haven thought coming to a tree farm was cheating itself, considering they could have taken one of the small ones from the backyard, but she thought better of pointing that out. His frustration mounted with each swing of the ax, and she didn’t want to make it any worse.

He whacked the trunk repeatedly, the blade eventually cutting through the wood. Despite the cold temperatures, by the time the tree tilted Carmine was huffing and drenched with sweat. It gathered along his forehead, ran down the side of his face, and dripped from his chiseled jaw. Haven watched him struggle in silence, a familiar pang of guilt deep down inside of her gut. It was always subtly there, lurking, violently striking when she least expected it to, like a startled viper fighting for its life. It viciously gnawed at her, poisoning her insides and conjuring up intense feelings of shame when she was reminded of what he had done.

This boy—this stubborn, selfless, stupid boy—had given himself to the Mafia. He had handed control of his future over to the men they hated most in exchange for her life. For her safety. And he had done it so easily, so quickly, like he didn’t have to think about it at all . . . like sacrificing for her came just as naturally as breathing.

The act had left him fractured, and Haven was still trying to come to grips with the fact that it might be a long time before he was whole again. And as grateful as she was to be alive, as blessed as she felt to be standing there, picking out a Christmas tree with the boy she loved, she was also angry. Not at him—not anymore. That anger had been unfounded. She was mad at herself now, and at the universe, because no matter what she did, she couldn’t help Carmine. She was helpless to his plight. There was no way for her to end his torment. No way for her to save him.

Once again in her life, Haven felt powerless.

So she stood by silently, continuing to watch, terrified of looking him in the eyes one day and seeing regret. Frightened that someday, he would turn to her and she would see her worst fear playing out in his face: that she hadn’t been worth it.

Eventually, the evergreen toppled in Haven’s direction. She jumped out of the way at the last second, the tree nearly hitting her.

“Sorry, tesoro.” Carmine dropped the ax and pulled his black long-sleeved shirt up, exposing his toned stomach as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

He grinned proudly as he lugged the tree toward the car. She picked up his ax, surprised by how heavy it was, and followed behind. He threw the tree over the fence like it was no trouble at all and helped her to the other side.

“What are we going to do with it?” she asked.

“Tie it to the car and take it home,” he replied, taking the ax from her. He tossed it in the trunk and pulled out a coil of rope, holding it up to show her.

“Are you sure?” she asked as Carmine grabbed the tree and shoved it on top of the car. The branches scraped against the shiny black paint. She couldn’t imagine they would get it home without causing some damage.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Of course I’m sure, Haven. What is it with you and that damn question today? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

She was taken aback by his question. She hadn’t realized she had been repeating it. “Of course I trust you! I was just . . . double checking.”

“Well, I guess questioning me is always better than saying okay,” he replied, positioning the tree and tying it down. It hung over all sides of the small vehicle, blocking half of the front windshield and most of the back. “I still mean everything I say.”

“I know,” she said. “I believe you.”

Carmine tugged on the evergreen, making sure it was secure. Satisfied with the job he had done, he motioned for Haven to get in the car, but she didn’t budge.

“So, what’s theft?” she asked. “A misdemeanor or a felony?”

Carmine stared at her for a moment before the question sunk in. Instead of answering, he pulled out his wallet and counted out some money. He hopped the fence and jogged over to the building, slipping the cash under the door for the tree they had cut down.

“Theft?” he asked when he returned, smiling sheepishly. “What made you think we were stealing something today?”

* * *

Haven had been right.

Tiny scratches sprinkled the roof of the car, a more noticeable jagged gash down the center. Carmine ran his pointer finger along it. “Fucking tree.”