EIGHT
I read it all wrong; I completely missed everything about her until now. She makes me feel, and I don't just want that feeling to vanish. Sure, my lifestyle can get her killed—everything about my life and my background can get her killed.
My thoughts are interrupted as my cell phone rings on my lap. Quickly, I set down my pencil and shove my assignment to the side. "Hanna."
Her erupted tears are enough to tell me something is terribly wrong. "I-I n-need y-you… I-I…" she manages to say into the phone.
Those words send my mind spinning into a catastrophic tidal wave of emotions I haven't felt in years. "I'm on my way," I quickly tell her, hanging up and dashing from my bedroom.
"Damien!" I scream into the hall. My brother comes barrelling out of his bedroom and stops in front of me. The look in his eye is wild.
I know he'll have my back, even if he doesn't agree with my decisions. "We need to go. Hanna needs me," I manage to say as my feet carry me down the stairs to the front door. Ace looks up from the TV, straight at me. "It's Hanna." Dashing out of the house, I unlock my car and slide into the passenger seat, throwing Damien my keys.
My brother gives me a look that says " you're showing weakness again" but I don't care. If Hanna is a weakness, then so fucking be it. She called me of all people she could have dialled, and I refuse to let another person down.
Ace slams the door to our condo behind him as he rushes into the backseat of my car. Damien speeds out of the driveway, heading straight for Hanna's house. When the car comes to a stop outside her home, my legs race across the steps to the door, both boys right behind me. I knock loudly on the door, but there's no answer, making the rage in my body fire off in waves.
No answer? No answer! What the hell kind of household leaves a twenty-one-year-old woman to cry alone! I use all my body weight and slam the door in.
"Get the fuck out of my house!" a young, twenty-year-old man yells at us. Ignoring him, I leave Damien and Ace at the bottom of the stairs as I race upstairs in search of Hanna's bedroom. I stop at a door covered in black paint and knock. Panic has definitely set in when she doesn't answer.
Fear is a concept I'm not used to, and one I don't want to be used to. "Hanna! I'm here," I call through the black door. When I hear no response, I begin to panic again as I slam my fist through the door.
Ignoring the raging pain in my hand, I race into the room and stop dead, horror filling my eyes. Blood. A lot of it. So much blood that my mind clouds with the past. The blood on my hands.
Except this isn't the past, and I didn’t do this to her. "Hanna! Hanna!" I scream. My lungs can't handle the pain I'm feeling right now. "Damien! Fuck! Call an ambulance!" I grab the fluffy book blanket and wrap it around her naked body, lifting her off the ground into my arms. My legs feel like Jello as I run down the stairs and meet my friends.
The look on the guy's face reassures me this is his fucking fault. I growl in his face before my legs carry me out of that haunted house. "Damon, I called them," Damien responds as he stays in step with me. The look on his face is still telling me this is weakness, but it can't be weakness if it makes me feel strong.
Saving her from that horror show makes me feel strong and knowing she counts on me can't be a weakness. Ignoring the world around me, I clutch her to my chest. I feel everything crack, my insides breaking from the inside out. She can't die. Not when I haven't had the chance to know her.
This girl is one hundred percent in danger when she's in my world, but I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. At least saving her life should give me some sort of credit, make me less weak in Damien's eyes.
"Call Bailey! She's her best friend," I growl at Damien and Ace. I turn away from them as Ace takes Damien's phone and dials; clearly the world we live in is more important to my brother than an innocent girl we have the chance to save.
Hope fills my eyes as the ambulance's flashing red and blue lights come into view. This doesn't make me weak , I repeat to myself as the paramedics race from the ambulance.
I gently let them take her motionless body from my hands as she's laid out on the stretcher. Slowly, I follow their movements before I climb into the ambulance beside her, catching Damien's disappointed eyes as both doors close behind me. My heart cracks again as I watch her lifeless body wrapped in a fluffy blanket. I swear I will kill him…
If she…
I'll kill him.
I should kill him, anyway. Nobody would find the body and he deserves death if he hurt her in any way—and from the blood covering her inner thighs, I know exactly what he did…
Closing my eyes, I let the tears fall as I crack again and again over the second girl in this world I can't seem to shake. This isn't a weakness, I keep telling myself as I wipe the wetness from my cheeks. I take her hand and squeeze it gently as I watch her beautiful broken face. "You have to live, you have to… I’ll kill him for you. You just have to live!" I close my eyes again, not knowing if she'll even make it.
Was I too late?
I look up as the vehicle comes to a stop and the back doors open. Quickly jumping out, I wait for the paramedics to bring her with me. Following closely behind them, I race after the stretcher through the hospital.
"You can't come in here, honey," the doctor says as she's pushed into a room. I close my mouth to stop the words from spewing in her direction. "I'll come tell you when you can."
Grabbing the doctor by the jacket, I pull her close enough to my face that she can feel my breath fuming against her lips. "If she dies, you do, too. Look up the name Saint, and then tell me you'll call the cops for my threat." I release her with a shove, and she scurries away after the stretcher.
Swinging my hands, I slam my broken hand into the wall and head for the waiting room. "Damon." My eyes meet Damien's when I notice Ace and Sam with him. But I ignore them because Damien is the last person I need to hash things out with right now. I pace the room, flinging my hands around as the rage consumes me yet again. "Damon, she'll be okay." Damien's hand lands on my shoulder, causing me to stop pacing.
Yeah, I know she will be because that doctor's life depends on it.
"Where is she?" I turn away from Damien, my eyes meeting with Bailey's. I feel tiny arms wrap around my body, and I shove them off. I don't want her pity, especially in front of my brother when he's already calling this weakness.
My lips curl up in a sneer as I glare at the blonde. She has no right to touch me. "Saint." I hear my last name clearly, coming from the doctor I threatened earlier. Pushing past the group of people surrounding me, I walk toward the woman, my eyes narrowed into slits.
"Hanna is going to be okay. She's stable, and we checked her out. She can have visitors now," she replies, her eyes darting toward me with fear. I follow the doctor to Hanna's hospital room.
Once I enter, my face pales when I see the now cleaned marks from the knife. She's dressed in a hospital gown, shielding her naked body from any prying eyes.
I slump into the chair beside her, closing my eyes softly before I look at her sleeping form. "I'm here, I'm not leaving," I whisper, gripping her motionless hand. Even though sitting beside her is the last place I should be right now.
I hear footsteps enter her room, causing my body to tense. Turning my head, I lock eyes with Bailey before I relax, facing Hanna. "I know you feel for her," Bailey explains as she sits opposite of me on the other side of Hanna.
I roll my eyes before I watch Hanna's face again. "She doesn't deserve this,'' I mumble instead of bitching out the blonde. Bailey nods and wipes her escaping tears as she grabs Hanna's other hand.
"Oh, Hanna…" Another voice comes into ear shot as the small brunette sprints to the bedside table next to me. "What the fuck happened?" she demands. But I don't give her the answers; instead, I ignore her because having an enemy in the same room as me is bad enough.
I can't even function sitting in a room with this woman. I should be slitting her throat or her mine.
Scarlet Rose is a mafia princess from a rival family I can't stand. I'm putting myself through hell being near her for Hanna. If it wasn’t for Hanna, I wouldn't stand near the woman. I can't stand her and killing her is definitely on my to-do list in the mafia world.
I look away and stare at the floor, chewing my lip. "She called me. She said she needed me, and when I got there…" I close my mouth and watch Hanna again. If she wants to know the rest, it won’t be coming from my mouth.
Scarlet sighs and sits in the chair next to me. A growl rises in my throat at the nearness of this bitch, but I say nothing because she's friends with the girl lying lifeless before me. "Bailey, can we have a minute?" Scarlet asks her friend with a pointed stare.
The blonde disappears from the room, leaving me alone with my enemy in a hospital room, of all places. "Put your hackles down, Saint. In the real world. I would have tried to gut you and your brothers already, but I haven't. Ever asked yourself why?"
A smirk filters over my mouth as I turn to her. "You want to shag one of us?" I snicker.
Scarlet scoffs, as if touching us pains her, and the feeling is mutual. "I don't harm you because Hanna hasn't exactly made it clear what she wants from you, and if I take you out, I might lose a friend," she replies with thinned lips.
"At least you're a dedicated bitch, right?" I reply with a genuine grin.
Her brown eyes flick to me, narrowing into slits. "Yep! And I do it for her, not for you and not for me. I do it for Hanna, even though I can't stand you."
A grin filters over my lips. "Feeling is mutual, princessa," I mock as Scarlet rises to her combat boots and leaves me alone with Hanna once again. What kind of mafia princess dresses like a goth? Only her.
Gently, I rest my head next to her arm on the hospital bed and close my eyes, and before I know it, I'm asleep next to her.
"Damon…" A soft whisper brings me out of my slumber. Looking up, I'm met with Hanna's beautiful broken green eyes. Eyes I have prayed would look at me again. Even though I prayed to the devil, he delivered in the end.
She watches me closely before she pulls her hand away from me. "Hanna…" I mutter. She shakes her head before her eyes focus on the wall in front of her. As if I didn’t just save her damn life. Like I didn’t risk my entire family's wrath by going to her aid.
"I don't want you here," she half growls. She's lying, but I don't say anything about it. Her lie is going to cost her, though.
My eyes meet hers as she watches me. "I didn't need you. It was a weak moment. I need you to stay away from me," she demands, averting her eyes. Weak moment. Yeah, one hundred percent, because weakness is what ruins us.
"Oh thank goodness!" an old woman cries as she rushes to Hanna's bed. Slowly, I stand, taking one last look at Hanna.
"Gramz." She smiles at the old woman, who kisses her forehead. "Damon, I don't want you here," she says again as her eyes find me. I don't want to be here, either.
Turning my head away from her, I head in the opposite direction, leaving her hospital room and coming face to face with the twenty-something-year-old from yesterday. "She doesn't need you. She only needs her family, and that's what I am," he seethes, walking past me into the hospital room.
I definitely should have killed him. It's what he deserves in the end.
I close my eyes briefly before I continue walking toward the waiting area, rage building in my chest with every step. "Damon.'' Damien stands and rushes to me.
"Don't," I growl at him, walking toward the exit to the hospital. I don't need to hear it from him after everything I put myself through. I don't need to be reminded that this is why we don't have weaknesses.
Marching to the front doors, I'm stopped by a voice. "Excuse me, young man?" I hear the doctor's voice again and then face her. The one I threatened, nonetheless.
She eyes my black and blue hand, then meets my eyes. "I would like to check out that hand."
Groaning, I follow her into a different hospital room and settle myself on the bed. At least if I let her look at my hand, she'll leave me the fuck alone.
The brunette doctor examines my damaged hand as I wince at her every touch. "It's broken," she replies.
"No fucking shit," I snap. I could have been nicer, but nice isn't who I am, and I'm done being fucking nice.
The doctor eyes me cautiously before she leaves, returning with a cast wrap. I glare down at the wrap, then eye her. Gently, she applies the material to my hand until it's covered in a black cast. "You're free to go," she mutters. Getting to my feet, I retreat, heading for the exit I was going for in the first place.
Damien follows me, and I notice he's the only one still here. "Coming back tomorrow?" he asks. The dig is clear, but I ignore it.
I shake my head and head for my blue Camaro. "Hanna doesn't need or want me," I reply, climbing into the driver's seat and starting up the car. Damien sighs and slides into the passenger seat, clicking his seatbelt.
Speeding out of the parking lot, I head straight for the road that leads to our condo, not even stopping for the stop signs. "Jesus fuck, Damon! Be more responsible!" Damien barks as I drift into my parking spot at the condo. Rolling my eyes, I climb out of the car and lock it with Damien on my heels. "Are you going to talk to me?"
"Why don't you fuck off! You're the one who didn’t want me to be weak, so now I won’t be. Now fuck off," I snarl, swinging open the door. Damien closes his mouth as I kick off my Vans and head straight for my bedroom on the second floor.
"Damon," a voice calls after me. Quickly ignoring them, I slam my bedroom door and lock it. Fuck them, fuck Hanna, fuck everything. I grab the first thing my eyes land on, which happens to be my laptop.
My anger flares as I toss the laptop into the wall. Next goes the speakers for my computer desk. By the time I'm done, my TV, laptop, speakers, and bedside table lamp are shattered into pieces. Maybe Hanna's right; maybe I should stay away before she's the one that's shattered, not these objects.
Or killed.
Flopping on my bed, I pick up the pencil from my textbook and finally finish up the assignment I was assigned last week.
I finish writing my assignment with a grunt.
Then I shove the essay into my binder and lay back, focusing on the ceiling. If she doesn't want me, I won't be here when she does. I refuse to be there when you only want me around when it's to your convenience. I won't make that mistake with Hanna again.
I won’t let someone be my weakness, either. Like she said, it was a weak moment, and I refuse to have one again.