NINETEEN
I feel arms wrap around my body, but I don't feel it. My eyes stay on Damon's body as it moves farther and farther from me.
Please don't take him from me. I look up at the ceiling as I feel myself being lifted off the ground and carried out of the apartment.
Salty tears touch my lips as I shudder into another sobbing fit. "He'll pay, Hanna. He'll pay," Damien murmurs in my ear as he hauls me to Damon's car. I can't even see the surroundings that pass by me. My entire body is lifeless, yet I'm still breathing. I didn't know what wanting to die for someone was until I heard that gunshot.
I wish I was in his place. I wish I could have stopped it. I'd die for him, in a heartbeat. Without a second thought, I'd die for him.
Tears stream down my cheeks and settle, soaking my cheeks and lips once again. I don't even register Damien beside me. I can't. All I know is I need to get to him. They need to save him. He has to come back to me.
Once the car comes to a stop outside a mansion, I don't even think. The door flies open, and my legs race across the hard surface toward the entrance of a building. "Hanna!" Damien yells behind me before he jumps from the car, grabbing my arm.
"You can't just run in there. This isn't a hospital, and these people will not take orders from you. They don't take orders from the likes of you," he snaps.
My body stops as I turn to face him with questions in my eyes. "This isn't a hospital? Then why are we here?" I ask while my body still buzzes with adrenaline.
"Because I can't let Damon go to a hospital. This is where he comes. We have a doctor and a team that will fix him up," Damien replies, though his eyes are twitching.
"Can you tell me more?" I ask, my lips trembling.
"No, that's for Damon to do," he replies as he stalks past me and through the front doors.
I follow closely and stare around the room. The floors are granite, and this building looks like it's caked in riches. Like it was built for the rich. As I stare around the area, there are guards with guns strapped to their chest, walking around like the entire building is under attack. There is a staircase that leads to god knows where, with lots of people who look like doctors walking up and down the stairs. This place is definitely not a hospital.
"Damon Saint," I ask when I step up to a desk with a woman tucked behind it, but she ignores me. Someone taps my shoulder, and I turn to the guard that Damien stands beside.
He nods at the staircase, then goes back to staring at his phone. "He's in medical. You can wait here." Nobody seems to be worried about the situation with Damon.
I hate this world. Why didn’t we just go to a hospital! I want Damon! My legs buckle, causing me to collapse to the ground, leaning my weight against the wall.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I don't stop as more tears escape my eyes. I'm not waiting another fucking minute. I’ll be there when Damon opens his eyes, because he will. He has to know I'm sorry. For what, I don't know, but I know I'm sorry.
I can't go another day without him knowing how I feel. The sobs rack through my body as Soren kneels next to me with emotionless eyes.
Instantly, I latch onto him, crying into his chest as I pour out every last emotion that consumes me. "Miss," the guard mutters. How long has it been? How long have I been sitting here? Is he dead…? No, Damon, you can't… you have to live.
"You can visit him," he replies, for once his eyes lift to me. My legs act on their own instinct as I practically leap to my feet to face him. "Surgery took about two hours, and he's somewhat stable, so you can see him. The doctor confirmed."
I look back at Damien and Soren, who nod as I rush up the staircase to the door he's behind. My legs crumble when I see him lying on the bed, motionless, with a bunch of hospital-type tubes sticking out of him. Another sob wracks through my body as I slump down in the chair beside the bed.
Resting my head against his arm, I sob again. He's okay… He's going to be okay. My heart does another crack as I watch his motionless body. Pulling the chair closer, I lay my head away from his shot wound and close my eyes.
Just being near him makes me want to be a better person. I'm shattered and utterly broken, but he managed to squeeze his big ass ego into my life and capture my heart. Ever since he saved me when I almost died, he has had a piece of me.
Damon Saint was the death of me. I cling to his body, more tears staining my cheeks. I promised myself I wouldn't get attached. I said I wouldn't fall for anyone and bring them down with me, but look what happened.
Damon got shot because he was saving me. I don't even remember the last thought in my head, as I must have fallen asleep next to him.
Someone strokes my hair as my eyes flutter to stay closed. I'm exhausted. Drained. I don't want to feel. "Hanna," a voice whispers into my hair.
I know that voice.
My eyes shoot open, and I peer up at him. His dark eyes are swollen and he has a cut lip, but he watches me with soft eyes and a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. A sob escapes me as I bury my face in his chest.
They didn't take him from me. I lose my breath as I cry again at the one thought I have. He's not going anywhere.
"It's okay, Hanna," he whispers, stroking my hair again.
It's not though. He almost died. How could it be okay if I lost him. "If I lost you… If you died saving me…" I sob. Damon smiles, resting his hand on my cheek as his thumb rubs soft circles.
This has to be a dream. "You're my addiction. I'd gladly give my life for you. Hanna… you don't get it, do you?" He stops mid-sentence and watches me.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out.
"Me, too. I'm sorry about how I treated you. You didn’t deserve it, and I should have apologised when it happened, but I'm an asshole and I didn't," Damon says as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
He cups my cheek as he brings his lips down to mine. "I also can't say those three words to you. Not until you know everything about me and my life," he whispers against my lips before he deepens the kiss and all passion be damned.
Those words bring my heart back to life as I drag my fingers through his hair. The words I've been waiting to hear since he rescued me from death at my grandparents' house. The words I've been waiting to hear since he pushed me away.
"Have we all kissed and made up?" Damien's voice rings through the room. Pulling away, my eyes lock with his as he smiles at me.
Damon returns his brother's smile as I rest my head back onto the bed beside him. Soren's blonde hair comes into view, but he stays back. "I'm telling Han everything. Today. Our mother's wishes be damned," Damon mutters.
Damien raises a brow but says nothing. "The doctors said hockey is off the table until your gunshot wound heals, and so is everything else," Damien says, taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of me. Damon nods as his fingers slide through my brown hair.
I still can't wrap my head around it. I smile and wrap his good arm around me, closing my eyes again as tears fill my eyes. He's okay. He survived.
He made me feel things I didn't know I could. He made emotions fall from my heart I didn't think were possible. Not a chance in hell I'm ever taking this for granted.
"Can we be alone? I mean yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for checking on me, but I have to ask Hanna something," Damon speaks up.
Damien chuckles before he drags Soren from the room, leaving us alone. His hands find my chin and pulls my face to meet him. "Lock the door," he instructs.
My eyes widen. Ignoring my thoughts, I get up and head to the hospital door. "No, Cinderella. I just had surgery, I'm not fucking you." He laughs.
My face turns beet red as I quickly lock the door and scurry my way back to my chair, sitting beside him.
He smiles and pulls me to him. "I can help you. I won't make you feel uncomfortable or weird, that is, when we do have sex for the first time," he says, pressing his lips to my hand. "But before we take this conversation about sex further, we need to talk."
I nod, my lips thinning as I bite the bottom one. "I searched you up," I blurt out, my eyes widening at my truthfulness.
Damon eyes me with a shake of his head, then chuckles. "I'm sure the news has nothing on what I will be telling you," he replies. I nod as I get myself completely comfortable on the side of the bed. "I was eleven when I killed a man for the first time. My mother demanded we become men early."
I sit there patiently, trying to keep my emotions in check while he explains himself. "My father died when I was ten, and then my mother became capo and ran the household like a business. To her, we weren't children, we were soldiers." His voice is harsh when he speaks of her.
"I was born and raised in the mafia crime world. I belong to the famiglia, and I bleed and kill for them whenever it's deemed necessary. My friend Sam is a part of a mafia family as well, just not mine. He belongs to the Costa Nostra in Orlando, Florida, and Sam's father, Tobias Delgado, is the capo. Scarlet is a mafia princess from New York City, the outfit. It's a totally different mafia family from mine and Sam's, but she's a rival enemy, hence the hatred," he finishes.
I blink as the shock takes over. That wasn't… I figured maybe a gang or something along those lines, but the mafia? It never really came to mind. Holy shit.
Damon grips my face between his hands and keeps his eyes on mine. "My mother would have you killed for this knowledge. I killed Emily for the knowledge you know, because I had to. But this time around is different. I'd die before anything ever touched you," he growls.
A tear falls from my eye. "You want to know why I would die for you? Because nobody can have you, Cinderella. You are mine. Every part of you belongs to me. Your heart. Your soul. Your body. You. Are. Mine. And I'm sorry, but I can't say those words to you. Not yet, and maybe never."
The tears don't stop falling as I fall into him. "Damon," I croak through my sobs. This information is way too much all at once. And then to add the fact that he would die for me? It's a lot.
Pulling down the hospital blanket, I set it on the chair beside me as I eyed him cautiously. "What about your wound?" I whisper.
"I've had worse things happen." He grins at me, the open heart emotion forgotten. "But again, I'm not fucking you," he replies, pulling me into the bed with him and gently curling my body into his.
I smile softly and eye the hospital gown. "Can I…" I whisper, eying where I know his wound is. Damon nods, watching me as I stare at his now stitched up wound. There are purple bruises all over the area and it looks so gross, but it'll heal. He will heal. He has to.
We are about to do this? Cuddle? In a mafia medical room. With his soldiers only metres away when they could have orders to kill me at any second. My lips tremble as I curl into him and close my eyes.