Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
P resent
“You’re running out of space,” Marcus says, shaking his head.
“There’s plenty of space, asshole.” I point to a spot on my right shoulder. “I want it here.”
“And why the broken chain? What’s it mean?” he asks.
Some of the tattoos that cover my body don’t mean shit. They’re just art. Things that I like. But there are more recent ones that have so much more meaning. Like my Eiffel Tower tattoo, or the triple nines that match the design on Cammi’s wrist.
“The broken chain symbolises breaking the curse,” I tell him. I’ve never really bought into Marcel’s claims that our family is cursed. I guess I don’t want to take any chances either, though.
I would never put my wife at risk, and the women who get involved with our family end up cursed. I’m not letting that shit touch Cammi. I will do anything to protect her, going to whatever lengths I can to break it.
“Curse? I thought you didn’t believe in that shit,” Marcus says, while drawing up the stencil for me.
“I don’t. But I also don’t believe in God. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go to church and pray if it meant keeping Cammi safe,” I tell him. I did pray. When she collapsed, when her heart stopped beating right in front of me, I prayed.
Did that happen to her because of the curse? Possibly. I know it was my fault she experienced so much emotional trauma that her heart gave up on beating. I will live with that knowledge for the rest of my life. I will also spend the rest of our lives doing everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen ever again.
“Where is Mrs De Bellis anyway?” Marcus asks.
“Meeting Scarlett for lunch on campus.” I don’t know what to think of Cammi’s friend.
She’s… outspoken and I get the feeling she doesn’t like me at all. Not that I give a shit if Cammi’s friends like me. I don’t think any of them do. And I’m okay with that. But it sucks for Cammi. I know she loves her friends. I also know she’d drop them in a heartbeat if I asked her to. Not that I would ever do that to her. It’s just something I know. A fact. My wife will always pick me.
She loves me to a fault. I’ve always known that, and I’m conscious of not taking advantage of that love. That said, it goes both ways. If Cammi asked me to leave everyone I know, I would. I would go anywhere with her. I will always choose her above anyone else.
“So, the curse… Did something happen to make you think that you need a cure?” Marcus asks me.
“Besides my mother coming back from the dead?” I raise a brow at him.
“First of all, she didn’t come back from the dead. She just never died to begin with. Second—actually, I don’t have a second.” He shrugs.
“Gio’s agreed to arrange a meeting with her.” I want the meeting. I want answers. But what if talking to her is a bad omen?
“You want to know her?”
“Not particularly.” I’m indifferent. I don’t have any feelings towards the woman who gave birth to me other than curiosity. I don’t remember her. I guess it’s harder for Gio and Santo. They have memories the rest of us don’t.
My phone lights up with Cammi’s picture. Swiping the answer button, I bring it to my ear.
“Hey, how’s lunch?” I ask, my pulse racing because whenever I’m not with her, I’m waiting for that phone call, the one that tells me her heart has stopped again.
“I came home. What are you up to?” she says.
“I’m at Marcus’s. Why’d you go home? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just think I ate something bad. I’m fine. I’m going to lie down for a bit,” she says.
“I’m coming home. I’m calling the doc.” I get up and start walking out of the shop. By the time I make it to my car, Marcus is right behind me.
“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine, really,” Cammi argues.
“I’ll be there in ten,” I tell her.
I hear her sigh into the phone. “Okay. But, Vin, I’m fine. I just ate something bad. That’s all.”
“Okay. I love you.” I set my phone down and connect the call to the car’s Bluetooth. I look across to the passenger seat. “What are you doing?” I ask Marcus.
“Coming with you,” he says.
I shake my head and quickly pull out of the car park.
“Marcus, tell my husband that I’m fine and he needs to stop overreacting,” Cammi says through the speaker.
“Yeah… uh… Cammi, the only person your husband listens to is you,” Marcus reminds her.
“Not when it concerns my health, he doesn’t. I really did just eat something bad. I feel better already,” Cammi says.
“That’s good. The doc can confirm as much after he checks you over,” I tell her. “I’m going to hang up and call him. I’ll see you soon.”
“It’s really not necessary, Vin. But I know there is no point in arguing with you.” She sighs.
“I always knew you were the smart one in our marriage. See you soon,” I repeat. After hanging up with Cammi, I hand the phone to Marcus. “Call the doc. Get him to meet us at my place.”
“You know she’s fine,” Marcus says.
“I know,” I lie, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.
Something is wrong. I know it. Cammi’s never sick. And we’ve shared all the same food over the past twenty-four hours. If she just ate something bad, I’d be sick too.