VegasPete (fanfic) ABOverse

39

Pete's POV

*Bang! Bang!*

The first shot hit the center of the forehead, but the shooter didn't fall, so I fired again. This time, his head snapped back before his body collapsed to the floor.

*Screams filled the room.*

"Fuck!!"

I heard many voices, but they seemed distant. I quickly turned Vegas over to lie on his back. The cake stand now blocked the view from the lower part of the stage, preventing another shot. Vegas was still conscious, trying to press down on his wound near his left collarbone. Blood was soaking through his white suit, spreading rapidly.

"Pete, are you hurt?" he asked, reaching to grab my arm.

"No, I'm fine. Vegas, press on your wound," I said, guiding his hand back to the wound. Blood seeped through the suit, staining my hand.

Then I saw Macau run up and sit beside me, followed by Porsche.

"Bomb! There's a bomb!" someone shouted. I heard Khun Kinn ordering an evacuation and calling for the bomb squad.

"Pete, come with me. Your grandma and grandpa are already with Khun Noo." I nodded in response. I was focused on Vegas' face. He was still awake. Yes, he was still here.

"You lead the way," I told Porsche and then lifted Vegas from behind, using my elbows to lock under his armpits to move him, while my right hand pressed on the wound.

Porsche led us to the car. I let Vegas rest his head on my lap, both of my hands pressing on his wound. His white suit was now more red than white.

"Vegas, stay awake. Talk to me."

"I'm sleepy, Pete," he said, his face gradually turning pale, and his lips becoming faintly blue.

"Don't sleep, hey!" Macau, who was in the car with us, shook Vegas' hand.

"Pete, his hand is so cold."

I pressed harder on the wound, not knowing if it would help.

At this moment, all the emotions I had been holding back poured out, and I started crying.

"Vegas! Wake up and talk to me!" I shouted at him through my sobs, but he kept his eyes closed. I reached to feel his pulse on his neck. It was weak but still there.

"We're here!" Porsche parked in front of the emergency room. I saw people ready with a stretcher to move him. I stood watching as they placed him on the bed and wheeled him inside, shouting instructions to each other.

This was all I could do.

I could only watch him from outside, seeing him lying on the bed as they removed his suit jacket, opened his shirt to examine the wound. Some brought machines to measure his blood pressure, attaching various devices to him.

Vegas.

"Sir, sir, sir!"

"Yes?" I turned to look at the person in front of me holding a chart.