The Devil's Aces [h.s . au]

32

HARLEY

Harry was home. Cameron and I brought him later Saturday afternoon. Dr. Smith gave me his prescriptions and some more bandages and ointment. She told me Harry wasn't to do anything strenuous for a few days, and he needed to do some physical therapy once his body was healed all the way. I thanked her for everything she'd done. Once again, she mentioned being a friend of Niall's.

Camerons 2020 Nissan 3072 was a two-seater. Cam drove us to the hospital, but the three of us argued about who was going to ride Cavalier, Harry's motorcycle. Harry insisted he was healed enough to ride her, he rode her with me in his arms with two bullet wounds, he could manage the ride home. When I finally put my foot down and pulled the kidnapped card, Harry agreed to let me drive him home in Cam's car. He gave Cameron very specific instructions about how to drive Cavalier, going on about how she was a 2008 FXDWG Dyna Wide Glide; meaning he needed to be extra careful. Cameron was able to shove Harry in the passenger seat while reminding him that Harry, himself, taught Cam how to ride.

I was grateful the Nissan was an automatic, I hadn't driven a stick in years. I didn't drive cars all that often to begin with. I'd always been more of a city girl, taking public transportation or walking was my preferred way of getting from point A to point B. Harry was fidgeting near the end of the drive. I took his hand in mine, I wanted him to relax. Everything was going to be okay.

The night before I asked Cameron if we could sleep on the pull-out bed together. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep by myself. Tonight, after Harry locked all the doors, turned on the alarm system, and turned off the lights I was left alone. I stood in my door frame looking at my bed, as exhausted as I was, I wasn't sure if I could bear sleeping in here. I would have asked Cameron to sleep on the pull-out again, but he snored worse than anyone I knew.

"Can't sleep?" Harry whispered behind me.

Without turning to face him I shook my head. "Every time I try to lie down, I see flashes from that night. I can't even remember what happened to me, and I'm traumatized. I'm not sure I want to remember who did it, or what they did."

I heard Harry step closer to me, he wrapped his good arm around me. Gently he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "I know exactly what you mean. I didn't even want to go to sleep. I'm afraid I'll wake up and you won't be here. It will be my fault again."

I was sick of Harry blaming himself for what happened to me. There was no one to blame except those psychopathic Suicide Kings. I spun around, we were chest to chest. I looked up at him, his bruises were nearly healed already. "What if I sleep in your bed? That way you know I'm there the entire night."

Harry smiled, his dimple even popped out for a second.

"Yeah?" I took his arm off my body and pulled him back to his bedroom.

"Did you apply your ointment and rewrap those yet?" Harry's index finger gingerly touched the bandages on my wrists.

"No, yours?"

"No, come on. We can do them together." He led me to his bathroom.

This was the first time I'd been in here since Harry and I expressed our true feelings for each other. Now it was dark, and the cold tile flooring turned my already chilly feet frozen. Harry turned on the light, he was wearing gray sweatpants - likely the same ones from Thanksgiving - along with a plain white t-shirt.

"You first." Harry patted his marble countertops. I lifted myself onto the counter and sat directly in front of Harry. I held out my arms, bending my elbows. Harry was looking at the bag of medicines Dr. Smith gave us. When he looked back up at me I saw the sting of regret and sorrow in Harry's eyes.