I'll take my chances // au Zayn Malik

Chapter 33 - The final chance.

 I knew the bullets would hit exactly where I aimed. I was basically born with a gun in my hand.

The people dropping on the opposite end of the gun got to me at first and then I got over it. I didn't shoot the innocent; the people that I shot deserved it. They earned their spot on the opposite end of my barrel. They made their choice. Either for good or for bad.

The gash on my arm was still bleeding at a rapid pace, but that was not the reason I unwillingly dropped the gun. My hand had suddenly started cramping. And I'm not talking about a little teeny weeny ol cramp. No I'm talking full on hand-pulling-towards-my-arm-and-arm-going-numb-cramp. You know as it does. 

"F.ck," I muttered beneath my breath. 

I somehow managed to pull my still painfully cramping hand closer to my body. I cradled it with the other which basically forced me to balance my entire weight with my legs and the sheer will of not wanting to fall from the speeding death trap.

"What? What is it?", Zayn asked, his voice almost frantic.  

I pulled away from him so I could at least see him in my peripheral vision.  It was weird talking into the wind.

"I dropped the gun and believe me we kind of needed it," I replied. 

My eyes nervously flicked to the spot in front of me. She wasn't kidding when she said she wanted war. Practically every spy belonging to the Ivanoff clan was speeding down Haunt Lane either in a SUV or on a bike.

Well f.ck.

My body propelled against Zayn's as a massive blow to the stomach knocked the air from my lungs. I gasped for air. My lungs indeed forgot how to lungs. 

"Lex, what the f.ck? Are you okay?" Zayn exclaimed. 

I wanted to tell him that I was fine but I was still desperately struggling to regain my normal breathing pattern. Tears started stinging the corners of my eyes.

Oh right, that is how my body is trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen in my blood. By making me cry. Because f.ck logic.

Finally oxygen swept into my lungs, as normally as it always has. Like I wasn't just suffocating several seconds ago. What the f.ck was right. What was happening?

I didn't have much time to think about it though, because in a matter of seconds searing pain was shooting its way up my spine. I knew I clenched my jaw when the pain started, but I must've let go because the screams getting lost in the wind could only have been my own.

The same colorful string of cuss words that left his mouth that first day I literally fell for him, was being echoed above me. My breathing was ragged and hard because of the inferno burning its way through my body. A frown knitted between my Lilly brows when I noticed that I was crying.

Why was I still crying? I could breathe fine now, thank you, body.

Out of frustration and because it was a distraction from the pain, I wiped over my eyes. The blood staining my fingertips proved that whatever was coming from my eyes were in fact not tears.

I didn't have to touch my ears and my nose to know that they started bleeding as well. Then it hit me. This was withdrawal. Everything that has been happening to me was because of the withdrawal my body was experiencing from removing The Black Powder transmitters.

"Zayn," I said, trying to get his attention. My voice was barely audible and I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to hear me. 

He abruptly looked down at me. The bike made a sharp swerve in response to the blood staining my face. Bleeding from the eyes could not be a pretty sight.