Sempre (Sempre 1)

“Yes. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“You know I would.”

He tried to pull her into a hug, but it wasn’t easy maneuvering around their injuries. They both groaned and cringed from pain, his bandaged arm making the embrace awkward. “Your arm,” she said, nuzzling into his chest.

“The bone fractured when I was shot, so they had to splint it.”

She tensed. “You were shot?”

“Yeah. It’s not that serious, though.”

“Not serious? Someone shot you!”

“Yeah, Nunzio did.”

She gasped. “Oh God, where is he?”

“He’s dead,” Carmine said. “Him and the rest of them.”

“They’re dead?” He nodded. “All of them?” Another nod. “And you aren’t?”

He cracked a smile at her question. “Last time I checked,” he said, reaching for her hand and pressing it against his chest, over his heart. “I think it’s still beating.”

“It is.” She stared into his eyes—eyes she worried she would never see again. “I missed you.”

“Mi sei mancata,” he said. “I’m glad you’re awake now.”

“Where were you earlier?”

He didn’t respond right away. “I had an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

“That’s the same thing your father said.”

“Yeah, well, there you go. We should probably listen to him.”

“You’re a rebel,” she said. “Since when do you listen?”

“I never did before and look where that got us. I figure it’s time to start, since he seems to know what the hell he’s talking about.” He paused. “Sometimes, anyway. Other times I still think he’s full of shit.”

She laughed at his response. They both lay quietly, holding on to each other as she tried to clear the fog that settled in her brain. Her memory was sketchy, an odd tension mounting in the room as a result. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I was worried . . .”

“Well, stop worrying.” His voice was firm. “You need to focus on getting better.”

“You sound like your father again,” she said, his evasive answer doing nothing to calm her fears.

“Apparently I’m more like him than we thought.”

“You’re nothing like him,” she said. “You’ll never be like him.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”