“I am. I really am.”
“Then… that’s all I care about.” She touches my face and tears roll down my cheeks.
Carbone crouches down across from us and shoves his gun forward. “As touching as this is, I’m getting bored. Time to focus up, Deanna. Where. Is. My. Money.”
Mom turns to Carbone. “Would you please fuck off? You aren’t welcome here.”
Carbone throws up his hands. “I’m holding you at gunpoint, you crazy old bitch! Where is my?—“
A howl comes from the stairs behind him. I have a brief moment to watch as Dad comes roaring forward, leaping off the bottom landing, and smashing into Carbone’s back.
The pair of them topple forward. Carbone’s face hits the edge of the coffee table. He grunts and curses, blood breaking out from a cut on his brow, getting everywhere. Dad claws and tears at him, but Dad’s half the man he used to be, almost literally; he’s thin and light, brittle and weak. But as he beats at Carbone, he screams my name, over and over. “Deanna! Deanna! Run! Run away!”
It kills me, right then, seeing my father trying to protect me, because he knows who I am, he knows me, in this moment I needed him the most, he reached down inside and found a piece of himself I thought might be long gone. Carbone twists, knees Dad, cracks him across the jaw, and brings the gun around.
I don’t hesitate. I grab the lamp, the first object to hand, and I dive at Carbone, bringing it down hard into his face. The gun fires as the porcelain base shatters, cutting his cheeks and mouth, spilling more blood. I scream, ears ringing. Dad rolls sideways and I scramble to him, crawling to make sure he’s okay.
“Deanna,” he says, frowning at me. “What are you doing home from college?”
There are no injuries. The bullet missed.
“You bitch!” Carbone groans as he rolls onto his side.
“No!” Mom screams, leaping onto his back, but he elbows her hard and knocks her off.
I look around for a weapon, anything I can use, something heavy and hard that’ll put Carbone down, but he’s shaking himself off and looking for the gun. It got lost in the scramble, and we spot it at the same time. But he’s closer, and even though I’m not as injured and younger, he moves first, diving onto the weapon and rolling onto his back, bringing it up, barrel aimed at my chest?—
The door smashes off its hinges. Prime roars as he storms inside like a hurricane, gun leveled. I cry out, throwing myself sideways, and Carbone fires, shooting the ceiling a second before Prime’s boot catches him in the temple. Prime kicks again, and again, then wrestles the weapon from Carbone’s limp fingers, deftly emptying the chamber and removing the magazine. He rolls Carbone face-down on the floor, puts a knee to his back, and looks around at the scene.
My father’s sitting up, dazed and clearly confused. Mom’s bleeding from a cut on her cheek. My head’s pounding. There’s blood all over, a broken lamp, a smashed chunk out of the coffee table, several bullet holes.
“Everyone good?” Prime asks.
“Who… are you?!” Mom looks at me, bewildered.
I hurry to Prime’s side and throw my arms around him. “Oh god, how did you know? How did you know to come back? Prime, god, how did you know?!”
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He wraps one arm around me, the other still holding the gun pressed to Carbone’s head. He kisses me lightly. “The nurse called. I got here as fast as I could.”
“The nurse?”
“You think I didn’t have eyes in here?” He grins and kisses the corner of my mouth. “You should introduce me to your parents.”
“Oh, shit.” I get to my feet. “Mom, this is my husband, Prime Spadaro.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Esposito.”
“Uh, charmed?” Mom shakes her head, expression glazed. “Should we call the police now?”
“I would greatly appreciate it if you did not, actually.” Prime jams his knee harder into Carbone who groans in response. “I’ll take care of this.”
“But… he broke in…” She trails off and sighs, waving a hand. “Okay, it’s fine, whatever you say.”
“Dad.” I kneel down beside him. I touch his arm. Dad doesn’t seem to understand and I get closer, trying to move into his field of vision. “Dad, are you there? Do you know who I am?”
“I think… my daughter’s home from school. But I don’t know where she is?” He shakes his head, getting frustrated.
“I love you, Dad. Your daughter loves you so much. You saved her life. Do you know that?”
