My Client's Former Best Friend | MEANIE/MINWON

Chapter Twenty Four.

  Wonwoo had never been shot before. Of all the stupid, crazy-assed things that had happened in his life, which was now, annoyingly, flashing before his eyes, he’d never once been shot. It wasn’t pleasant. He heard the ear-shattering bang when the gun went off and the clatter as the weapon he held fell to the floor. He felt something hit him between those sounds. Then he felt nothing. Someone screamed, and it didn’t seem to be him. His lips were gripped together, his teeth biting into the side of his cheek. Then the pain started. It ripped through his shoulder in an angry, vicious surge. He tasted blood in his mouth and smelled it on his skin. He felt that same blood rushing around inside him, pouring from the open wound, trickling from his bit cheek, rushing in his ears. And the pain. The pain was every kind of torment he’d ever felt and it was all of them at once.

  There were a lot of voices, a lot of people saying a lot of things at him. He couldn’t sort them out; time wasn’t going at its usual speed. Then, in a rush, all the voices came closer, time caught up, and he looked over at his right shoulder and nearly passed out at the sight of the blood, his blood, running down his skin. He swore, adding his enraged agony to the cacophony of madness.

  The voices were sorting themselves out now.

  “Take it off! Take it off right now before another drop of blood gets on it. I’m serious!” Minghao was shouting.

  Junhui was frowning, his hand still reaching for the gun as he watched the blood ooze from his shoulder.

  He turned to see who the numbskull that shot hin was. In the doorway were two policemen, with Rowoon at their lead. Rowoon who was rushing over to him; Rowoon who was trying to get him to sit down in the armchair, whispering, pleading, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

  From behind him, Mingyu was asking if he was okay, interspersed with demands to have someone untie him so he could check out his wounds.

  Wonwoo’s mind pieced it together. He shoved Rowoon off him with all the strength in his left arm. “You shot me? You fucking shot me? What the fuck?” he bellowed at him.

  He kept trying to touch him, apologizing in a steady stream.

  “No. Do not touch me. I can’t believe you fucking shot me!”

  Junhui appeared at his side. “Are you okay?” He looked concerned, but not overly so, by the sight of his spin doctor bleeding out on his priceless rug.

  “No, I am very much not okay! This asshole here shot me!”

  “I meant the arm. Does it hurt?” he tried again, his face growing more worried.

  “Yes.”

  “We should get you to a hospital.” Now he looked concerned. Maybe it was the close-up of the wound, or maybe Wonwoo was turning as pale as he felt.

  “No shit. First, can you get him away from me?” Wonwoo had his left arm on Rowoon’s chest, trying to hold him at bay. He needed his strength for the whole not-bleeding-out thing, not tied up dealing with psycho exes.

  Junhui nodded and put his arm around Rowoon’s shoulder, talking soothingly to him and dragging him away.

  He turned to one of the policemen, who were both shifting uneasily in the doorway. “You. Stop standing there, pull out your damn gun, and get this bastard to shut up. I can’t hear anything over his whining.”

  The man shut his mouth and then did as he was told. He held up his gun and pointed it at Minghao with a steady hand. He fell silent.

  Wonwoo shot a look back at Mingyu. “Hey, can it. You’re not helping either.”