Wedding, guns and blood

Her dress was made of simple white satin, and her hair was adorned with baby's breath, flowing loosely down her back. She carried a bouquet of white calla lilies. As she walked down the aisle and met his gaze, she silently pleaded with him to put an end to this madness. The ceremony was a blur, and before she knew it, chaos erupted. Gunshots rang out, screams filled the air, and bullets whizzed by. Bella reached for Damon, who pulled her close and shielded her with his body. She spotted Lucas’s bleeding on the floor. Damon, covering her, drew his gun. Bella clutched her ears, tears streaming down her face. When Damon ran out of bullets, he was shot in the arm. He turned to Bella and said, "Stay here. I need more guns. Don't move." Silence fell over the room. She peeked and saw a man aiming a gun at the back of Damon's head. Bella grabbed a chair and struck the man with all her strength. Amid the distraction, Damon seized the man's gun and shot him in the head. Sirens wailed in the distance. Bella quickly moved to Lucas, who was still alive. She tore her dress and pressed it against his wounds, noting the two bullet holes.

Damon reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder, and she flinched. Then, without thinking, she stood and wrapped her arms around him, her tears soaking into his shirt. Slowly, his hand moved to her back, holding her there. “Shh,” he murmured, his voice low. “The ambulance is coming.” Her fingers grazed his arm, sticky with blood seeping through his sleeve. She yanked off his belt without a word, tightening it around his arm as he watched, eyebrows raised. His grip tightened on her shoulder as she worked. He kissed her forehead, a gesture that felt too gentle for the moment.

Then chaos erupted again. Bella’s eyes darted around the room, bodies everywhere, some motionless, others writhing in pain, the floor slick with blood. In the confusion, they were separated. At the hospital, Lucas rushed into surgery, and Bella searched frantically for Damon. Bodies were wheeled past her, but she finally found him in the emergency room, stitches freshly done.

The doctor glanced at her. “Bella, is this your husband?”

She shook her head quickly. “He’s in surgery.”

The doctor nodded. “Well, this one’s patched up. Just take the…”

Damon cut him off, grabbing Bella’s hand and pulling her out of the room. He dragged her into the stairwell, his frustration boiling over. “Why the hell are you worrying about me?” he shouted, slamming his hand against the wall beside her head. She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

He was close now, his breath hot against her skin. When she opened her eyes, she saw the pain etched into his face. “Go to your husband,” his voice rough. “I’ve got things to handle.” He stepped aside, letting her pass.

But as she took a few steps, he grabbed her hand, spinning her around. His kiss was desperate, his hand gripping her waist like he was afraid she’d vanish. “Fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away. “Hate me,” he shouted, his voice cracking. “Just hate me.”

Her hand reached up, touching his cheek. He kissed her palm, his lips trembling. Then she walked away, leaving him slumped on the stairs, his head in his hands.

Rafael found him slumping in the stairwell. “Boss?” he said, placing a tentative hand on Damon’s shoulder.

“Find out who did this,” Damon replied, his voice eerily calm, sending a chill down Rafael’s spine. He stood, his hair wild, looking like a man on the edge of sanity. “Get the guys together. Round up whoever’s left. And give me the count of the dead when you’re done.”

Rafael nodded, already backing away. “You’ll be here?”

“Yeah. Waiting for my brother to wake up.” Damon dismissed him with a sharp wave. “Now go.”

He grabbed two coffees on his way back to the waiting area. Bella sat crumpled in a chair, her dress stained with blood, her eyes swollen from crying. He handed her a cup without a word. She took it, sipping quietly.

Damon sat beside her, his voice low. “I…”

“Don’t,” she interrupted softly, resting her head on his shoulder. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Just… don’t.”

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” staring at the floor. “You’re just so…”

“Damon, let it go,” she whispered. “I acted on how I felt. I’m sorry.”

“How you felt?” he echoed, his mind racing. She felt something for him. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

Bella let out a shaky laugh. “I married the wrong brother,” she thought to herself. “I’m falling for my brother-in-law.”

The surgeon didn’t sugarcoat it. He’s in a coma, and the next two days will decide everything. They wouldn’t let them see him. Then the cops showed up, hauled them to the station, and after two hours of pointless questions, Damon finally drove them back to his place. The maid took one look at Bella and nearly keeled over.

“Get her something to wear, find pajamas. Show her to the bathroom and her room.”

He walked off without saying another word. Bella stepped into the shower, letting the steam wrap around her as tears mixed with the water. She pulled on an oversized T-shirt, and a pair of pajama bottoms she had to roll up twice just to keep from tripping. After drying her hair, she stood there, feeling hollow.

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She opened it to find Damon leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

She didn’t reply, simply resting her head against his chest.

"Alright, let's get you to bed," he suggested, his tone gentler than usual.

"Stay with me for a few minutes. Please. I'm scared."

He exhaled but moved over to the bed, settling against the pillows. She lay down next to him and fell asleep within minutes, breathing even. Damon watched her for a moment, gently moved a strand of hair from her pale face, and pressed a light kiss on her forehead.

What was wrong with him? This woman was messing with his mind. She made him feel something he hadn't experienced in years. The way she looked at him, as though he wasn't just a broken mess. And, damn, if he didn’t feel something for her too. The reality? She was his brother's bride.