Bound | H.S.

Chapter 27

☆☆☆

Taking a shower was a struggle. I had to cover my bandages with a waterproof cap, which was a major hassle, but the feel of the warm water washing away the blood and sweat was worth it. Gianna, Lily, and Fabi had left less than one hour ago. Father had insisted they leave. Not that they were much safer in Chicago. The Bratva was closing in on the Outfit as well. At least, I'd had them with me a day longer than planned. They'd kept me entertained as I lay in bed while Harry had to take care of everything. As Capo he couldn't abandon his soldiers. He needed to show them he had a plan of action.

I was already feeling so much better. Maybe that was the lingering effect of the painkillers I'd taken two hours ago. I stepped out of the shower and awkwardly put on my panties. I could move both of my arms, but the Doc had said I should use my left arm as little as possible. Putting on the nightgown proved more difficult. I'd managed to slip one strap over my injured shoulder when I stepped back into the bedroom where I found Harry sitting on the bed. He got up immediately.

"Done with business?" I asked.

He nodded. He came toward me and slid the second strap into place, then he led me toward the bed and made me sit down. We hadn't been able to talk alone since our first conversation and then I'd been high on morphine.

"I'm fine," I said again because he looked like he needed to hear it. He didn't say anything for a long time before he suddenly knelt before me and pressed his face against my stomach. "I could have lost you two days ago."

I shivered. "But you didn't."

He peered up at me. "Why did you do this? Why did you take a bullet for me?"

"Do you really not know why?" I whispered.

He became very still, but didn't say anything.

"I love you, Harry." I knew saying out loud was a risk, but I'd thought I'd die a couple days ago, so this was nothing.

Harry brought his face up to mine and cupped my cheeks. "You love me." He said it as if I'd told him the skies were green, or that the sun revolved around the earth, or that fire was cold to the touch. As if what I'd said didn't make sense, as if it didn't fit into his view of the world. "You shouldn't love me, Aria. I'm not someone who should be loved. People fear me, they hate me, they respect me, they admire me, but they don't love me. I'm a killer. I'm good at killing. Better probably than at anything else, and I don't regret it. Fuck, sometimes I even enjoy it. That's a man you want to love?"

"It's not a matter of want, Harry. It's not like I could choose to stop loving you."

He nodded, as if that explained a lot. "And you hate that you love me. I remember you saying it before."

"No. Not anymore. I know you aren't a good man. I've always known it, and I don't care. I know I should. I know I should lie awake at night hating myself for being okay with my husband being the boss of one of the most brutal and deadliest crime organizations in the States. But I don't. What does that make me?" I paused, staring down at my hands, the hands that had cradled a gun two days ago, at the finger that had pulled the trigger without hesitation, without a twitch or tremor. "And I killed a man and I don't feel sorry. Not one bit. I would do it again." I glanced up at Harry. "What does that make me, Harry? I'm a killer like you."

"You did what you had to. He deserved to die."

"There's not one of us who doesn't deserve death. We probably deserve it more than most."

"You are good, Aria. You are innocent. I forced you into this."

"You didn't Harry. I was born into this world. I chose to stay in this world." The words of my wedding day popped into my mind. "Being born into our world means being born with blood on your hands. With every breath we take sin is engraved deeper into our skin."