Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Armando
Hannah’s colorful platform heels click against the sterile floors, echoing in the emergency room as she paces.
Leo sits with his ankle across his knee, his foot jiggling. “Have you told the don?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
There was a time when I would go to Don G in a heartbeat. About everything. But I feel so disconnected from La Famiglia now.
Of course, I have to report this. I have to tell him what’s happening. But I want to be able to tell him that I have it figured out when I do. That I have it in hand.
The trouble is, I’m so fucking far from having it in hand. I need answers, so I can finish this shit.
Especially because Hannah’s involved now.
I can’t have her hurt.
I glance at the clock. It's been hours since Marco was brought in, and the silence in this cold, white room is deafening.
“God, when will they tell us something?” I mutter under my breath, trying to contain my frustration and fear.
I brood in the corner of the room, apart from Hannah, fighting the urge to slam my fist into the wall.
I imagine the scene of Marco taking the bullet meant for me over and over in my mind, a constant reminder that I am to blame.
What if it had struck his heart? His head?
Right now I’d be explaining to my aunt how her son died.
The thought makes me sick.
I wanted to feel something–anything–but not this.
Thank fuck Hannah wasn’t hit.
“Damn it.” I clench my fists. My gaze drifts to Hannah, her beautiful face etched with worry, and my chest tightens even more. If only I hadn't brought her into this world, into the chaos of my past, she wouldn't be here facing this danger.
“Armando.” She walks over to me. “He’s going to be okay. And it's not your fault.”
I look away, unable to meet her eyes. How can she still be so fucking sweet after all this? After I’ve brought her nothing but trouble and pain?
“Stop blaming yourself,” she pleads, her voice breaking as tears well up in her eyes. “You couldn't have known this would happen.”
I stare down at her. I don’t know how the fuck she can cry for me. I’m the walking dead, and she’s an ocean of emotion.
“Couldn't I?” I ask bitterly, images of my past flashing before me. Every failed deal, every vengeful enemy—they all led to this moment. “You need to be safe.”
“What I need is you,” she whispers, reaching out to touch my hand.
“Need me?” I scoff, pulling my hand away as if her touch is scalding. “You don't know what you're asking for.”
I catch the hurt in her gaze, and my guilt grows.
“Maybe not.” She looks down at her feet before raising her eyes to meet mine again. “But I know that my feelings don’t change for you just because of what happened in that alley.”
Fuck. This girl. She’s so much more than I deserve.
A nurse comes into the waiting room and addresses Leo and me. “He’s out of surgery,” she tells us. “We removed the bullet from his–”
I surge to my feet and head straight to the room without asking if we can see him. Hannah follows right behind me. Leo stays to listen to the nurse’s report.
I just need to see with my own eyes that he’s okay.
“Hey, guys,” Marco calls out weakly from his hospital bed. “Apparently it was just a bullet to my ass. I always knew my ass looked good but never thought it'd be a literal target!” He chuckles as best he can, given the pain he’s in.
I force a smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood despite his own suffering. The sound of his laughter is like a balm to the heaviness in my chest. Though he tries to hide it, I see the strain on his face. It's evident that he's putting on a brave front for our sake.
“Nice one, cugino ,” I say with a half-smile.
“Come on, Hannah, you may not laugh at my jokes, but at least give me a smile.” Marco gazes at her expectantly.
“Only because you're injured.” Her smile could brighten the darkest prison cell.
“Hey, I'll take what I can get,” he teases, wincing as he shifts on the bed.
“Thank you, Marco. For taking the bullet,” I say sincerely.
“Yes, thank you,” Hannah adds. “I know it could have hit me. You saved my life.”
“Anytime.” He shrugs. “I've been in this life long enough to know the risks. I'm not some innocent bystander who got caught up in your mess, Armando. I made my choices.”
Despite Marco’s words, guilt gnaws at me like a ravenous wolf. I clench my fists at my sides and look away from them, trying to fight the urge to rage and kill someone.
“Marco shouldn't have been there,” I say, my voice strained. “It should've been me in that alley. The bullet was meant for me.”
“Armando, you can’t—” Hannah begins, but she's cut off by the sudden entrance of Marco's brother, Leo.
“What the hell happened?” Leo saunters into the hospital room.
“I got shot in the butt.”
“So I heard.” Leo barks out a laugh. “Well, at least it wasn't something important.”
“Ha, very funny.” Marco gives a rueful grin. “I did what I had to do.”
“So now you have two holes in your ass?” Leo continues. “So you are a double asshole now.”
“Keep it up, little brother,” Marco growls.
“Listen,” I interject, addressing Leo. “This is my mess. I'll make it right. I promise.” The weight of responsibility settles even more heavily on my shoulders. I glance over at Hannah, who studies me like she can feel it. I’m sure she can. The girl feels everything.
I can’t read her thoughts.
Leo stops joking with Marco and turns toward me. “Count me in, on finding the fuckers who scarred my brother’s lily-white ass.” Leo’s face is serious. “We'll make sure they regret ever crossing our family.”
As we discuss plans for retribution, Marco interjects, wincing as he adjusts his position on the bed.
“Before you guys go all vigilante on their asses, there's something we need to consider.” He tips his head in Hannah’s direction. “Maybe it's best if she gets out of town for a while, too. Like your mom.”
“Absolutely not,” Hannah responds immediately, her voice unwavering.
Fuck. Marco’s right. If anyone connects me to Hannah, she’ll be a target. The stronzos who want me dead were in the alleyway behind her shop today. They may have already tied me to her.
Then again, it could be they thought I’d be there because of Rocco’s. Because it’s where they found me last time.
Hannah puts her hands on her hips. “No. I have a business to run. I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m a double-asshole because the truth is, I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want to stop hiding out at her place. I don’t want to let her go. She’s the only color in my black and white life.
“I don’t think she’s a target. Just me.”
“True. I heard them yelling ‘that’s not him’ after they shot me,” Marco says.
A small sliver of relief worms its way through my chest. “That’s good. Hannah stays, then.”
She steps in close to me, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, inhaling the scent of her hair—a mixture of fresh flowers and warm vanilla.
“You stay, but we'll need to take extra precautions.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, her arms tightening around me.
“All right, then,” Leo chimes in, his expression still serious. “We'll make sure to keep her safe while you deal with this. And I’ll help you handle the retribution, Armando.”
“Hey, don't forget about me,” Marco calls out, attempting a grin despite the pain etched on his face. “I might be down, but I'm not out. I'll be back on my feet soon. The retribution should be mine.” He yawns. “But right now, I need to close my eyes and enjoy the high from all these pain meds.”
Leo leans against the wall as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, man, and now you're gonna have all the nurses here fighting over who gets to change your bandages.”
“Maybe I should get shot more often, huh?” Marco chuckles, wincing slightly from the effort.
“Maybe not in the butt next time, though. Takes the cool factor out of the equation,” I quip, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.
“All right, All right, enough with the jokes,” Marco says, catching his breath. “But seriously, Mando, promise me you won't go off on your own for this one. We're a team, remember?”
“Yeah.” The room falls silent as I nod, holding Marco's gaze. “I promise.” I take Hannah’s hand and lead her out of the hospital room. “Let's go home.”