Her (A Shawn Mendes Fanfiction) ✅

Part 27

(Y/N)’s POV

After Dustin and I left Shawn’s house, he started leading me down the street.

“Dustin, where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Away,” Dustin answered simply.

“Duh, but where?” I asked.

“To your dad,” Dustin said.

“To my dad?!” I asked, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “Now let’s keep walking, your dad doesn’t want you to be late.”

“No,” I said.

“No?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not going to him, with him, or anywhere near him,” I said.

“And why not?” Dustin asked.

“Because you saw what he did to your sister. You saw what he did to Shawn,” I said.

“What about what he did to you?” Dustin said. “After he was done beating you and I took one look at you, I saw that he had done way worse than I ever have.”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, but I’m used to beatings like that.”

“What?” Dustin asked.

“My dad used to beat me when I was young because he thought it was fun,” I explained. “And when I started dating you and you started beating me as well, I realized that my dad had done way worse than what you’d ever do to me.”

“That’s terrible to realize,” Dustin said.

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

“But, I have to get you to your dad,” Dustin said, bringing my dad back up into the conversation.

“Why? What’d he threaten to do this time, kill you?” I asked jokingly.

When Dustin didn’t respond, I had my answer.

“He threatened to kill you this time?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dustin said softly. “He threatened to kill both of us.”

“That son of a…” I said before I heard a loud bang and Dustin cut me off.

“Watch out!” he cried, jumping out in front of me.

Dustin fell to the ground as another loud bang rang through the air. This time, with no one to protect me and not being able to protect myself, a bullet flew through the air and landed in my arm. I screamed out in pain as blood started flowing down my arm. Bang! Another gunshot. I started breathing heavy and pulled my phone out of my pocket. As quick as I could I dialed 911.

As the phone was ringing, I ripped a long piece of cloth off my shirt and wrapped it around my arm to put pressure on the wound. Once I was done tying the cloth around my arm, someone finally picked up.

“911 what’s your emergency?” the operator asked.

“Shot,” I said before beginning to cry. “My father shot me and my friend. I need help.”

“We’re tracking your location right now, honey. Try to stay calm until we get there,” the operator asked.

“Okay,” I said, still crying.

“Stay calm, we’ll be there soon ju-” there was yet another gunshot and the operator was cut off.

I started crying harder, reminding me of when I was young and my dad was about to beat me. I hung up the phone and brought my knees to my chest and cried. Not even a few minutes later, there was something cold being pressed against the back of my head.

“Why are you crying my dear?” I heard my dad ask with a smirk.

“Don’t call me your dear,” I said.

“Well then stop pouting like a baby!” my dad shouted, pressing the cold thing further against the back of my head.

“Do it!” I said, realizing that the cold thing was his gun.

“Do what?” my dad asked stupidly.

“Shoot me! I know you want to and I know you have your gun so do it!” I yelled.

“Oh, (Y/N). It’s not that easy,” my dad said.

“What do you mean? You’ve already shot me and Dustin. What’s one bullet through the head? Besides, the police are already on their way,” I said.

“Well, in that case,” my dad said. “I could just shoot you and put the gun in your hand, making it look like a suicide.”

I started breathing harder than before, knowing fully well that my dad was going to do what he thought. He took the gun away from my head to cock it, before placing it where it was before.

I stayed silent and my dad hesitated, taking the gun away from the back of my head.

“What made you hesitate?” I asked before feeling the gun being forcefully pressed against the back of my head.

Bang!