Gerard's POV
I've only had a gun held to my head once. It was right when this all started; someone wanted to shoot me for the food I had. I was terrified. I felt like my heart stopped, and I could hardly breathe. However, that could not even begin to compare to what I felt when I saw the gun pressed to Frank's skull.
I froze. I had no idea how the hell he was going to get out of that situation. The only thing I could think was I cannot lose him.
"You're lucky I don't put a bullet in your brain right now Frankie," said the man with the gun.
He knows Frank. I thought. How would he know Frank? Why does he want to shoot him in the head? Frank turned around.
"Bob?" Frank whispered. My heart stopped. Bob? The Bob Frank used to date? The Bob whose death has haunted Frank since I met him?
"You're dead," said Frank, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.
"You wish I was dead. I survived even though you left me to die." Bob said bitterly.
"No," whispered Frank, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "I loved you. I wanted to save you, but I was too scared. I'm sorry, Bob."
Bob just kept talking as if Frank didn't even say anything. "And now you're here with this asshole like the little whore you are."
"I'm not a whore," muttered Frank.
Bob pushed him to the ground, kicking him in the stomach. I jumped between the two of them and my fist collided with his face. He looked stunned for a second, as if he had forgotten I was even there. He swung at me, but I dodged it, grabbing his arm and hitting him again. One more blow to the head and he was out cold.
Frank was still on the ground. "Frank!" I whispered, kneeling by his side. He looked at me and blinked deliriously. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said, getting to his feet shakily.
"We have to leave before he wakes up. He'll be pissed."
"No! We can't leave him here. He could die."
I could tell Frank still cared about Bob, and he probably was trying to make up for leaving him alone. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
"Frank, he tried to kill you. We can't let him come back with us, or God knows what he'll do," I said.
He sighed. "I guess."
"We'll find what we need and get out of the city as soon as possible so he can't attack us again."
Frank nodded. As I walked over to the door, I tripped over a heavy object in my path. It was a backpack, probably Bob's.
"Go ahead and wait in the car," I said to Frank. "I'll be right there."
"Don't hurt him," he said.
"I won't. I promise."
He went out the door and got into the car. I picked up the backpack and started rifling through it. Holy shit this guy had a lot of bullets. I emptied his pack into mine. Frank might have cared about him, but I sure as hell didn't. After I took all his ammo, I found a chocolate bar in the front pocket.
"You're lucky Frank still cares about you. If I didn't love him so much, you'd be dead, asshole." I muttered, taking a bite of the chocolate.
I left the bookshop and got in the driver's seat. I started the car.
"Where are we going?" Frank asked.
"Home."
"I thought we needed ammo. That's why we came here."
