Redemption (Sempre 2)

“It’s twenty-five hundred,” Carmine said nonchalantly, stepping back out from behind the counter.

“I know, but I don’t have that right now,” he said. “My kids have summer camp, and my wife’s pregnant. I can have it next week, but I just don’t have it all today.”

Carmine walked through the shop as the man fumbled with the safe and pulled out a stack of bills. His hand shook as he counted them out, and Carmine tried to fight back his guilt. They were just innocent people, caught in the middle and trying to make a living, but if it wasn’t them extorting the cash, it would be someone else. Someone less civil, who would demand a whole lot more.

Besides, he thought, it was better than the alternative. If he weren’t robbing people of money and possessions, he would be robbing them of their lives, and he would much rather take what could be replaced.

“Not good enough,” Carmine said, swinging the bat with as much force as he could. It slammed into the glass display case, shattering it and sending shards flying everywhere. He threw the bat behind the counter, nearly hitting the man with it, and grabbed the cash.

Carmine walked out, unable to even look at the shop owner, and opened the passenger door of Corrado’s car. He climbed inside and saw his uncle was still on the phone, a serious expression on his face as he listened to whomever was on the line.

“I’ll be there in the morning,” he said, pulling away from the curb. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll notify you when I land.”

He sighed exasperatedly as he ended the call and glanced at Carmine. “How much did you get?”

“A thousand.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all he had.”

Corrado reached over, snatching the cash from him. He counted it out, barely paying attention to the road as he sped through the city.

Carmine’s curiosity got the best of him after a bit. “Are you taking a trip or something?”

“Or something,” he responded, tossing a single hundred dollar bill at Carmine and shoving the rest into the center console. “You’re too soft. He would’ve given you more.”

“I lost my temper and smashed one of his displays,” he said. “I figured I cost him more in damages than he owed.”

“Fair enough,” he responded as he pulled back into the parking lot of the club. “You need to learn to control your temper.”

“I’m working on it,” he said, eyeing his uncle suspiciously. He seemed distracted, his eyes darting toward the clock on the dashboard. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I’m needed,” he said, evading. “Where doesn’t matter. But I have to leave right now to be back in time for the wedding, so you need to get out.”

“Wedding,” Carmine muttered, the word striking him. Sunday was his brother’s wedding.

“Yes, wedding.” Corrado reached over, opening the passenger door and waving his hand dismissively. “Out.”

Carmine got out of the car and slammed the door. He watched as Corrado hit the gas and sped off, tires squealing. His words played through Carmine’s mind, an odd feeling coursing through him. Where doesn’t matter . . .

His head started to pound again, the ache in his chest intensifying, and a sinking feeling hit his stomach as Corrado’s car disappeared from sight.

“Haven.”

* * *

It hadn’t taken Carmine long to make up his mind after Corrado’s car pulled away. The moment his uncle turned onto the road, he reacted on impulse. Sprinting to his car, he unlocked the driver’s side door and slipped inside. Tires squealed as he hit the gas, flying out of the packed parking lot and into traffic within seconds.

The roads weren’t congested at that hour, but Carmine didn’t see his uncle anywhere, so he drove in the direction of their neighborhood hoping he went home first. The moment he pulled onto the street, he saw the Mercedes idling in the driveway.

Carmine parked a few houses down and turned off his headlights to wait. Corrado came outside a minute later with a black duffel bag and glanced around cautiously before getting back into his car. He pulled out of the driveway and sped down the street, and Carmine waited a few seconds before starting on the road. He slipped in behind another car, weaving through traffic in the direction of the airport.

He stayed back as far as possible, making sure there were cars between them so not to raise suspicion. He lost Corrado’s car twice but each time caught back up, having a general idea of where he was going, until he unexpectedly pulled down a side street a few miles into the trip.

Carmine slowed, unsure of what he was doing, but followed his uncle. They drove along a few vacant roads before cutting down an alley, and Carmine slammed the brakes when he turned and nearly rear-ended Corrado’s car.

His heart pounded forcefully when he realized it was a dead-end. Corrado’s driver’s side door hung open, no sign of him anywhere. Before Carmine could shift the car into reverse, his door opened and someone grabbed him. It happened fast, the movement startling him, and the car stalled from his haste. He had enough time to pull the emergency brake, not wanting it to roll, before he was yanked out into the alley and thrown against the side of the car.