espionage [h.s.]

TWENTY EIGHT

ROCHELLE

Everything seems to shift into slow motion as I watch the bullet fly out from the end of the man's gun. The bullet that was intended for me, but is now burying itself into Harry's chest due to the fact that he just jumped in front of me to shield me from its harm.

A shocked gasp barely has the chance to pass my lips before Harry suddenly stumbles backwards, his eyes widening and face paling. His body slumps, his hand reaching out to clutch the arm of the couch which is the only thing stopping him from crashing down onto the floor. Before the shooter has even lowered his gun, Liam and I quickly point our guns at him in return, the amount of anger flooding through me already causing me to have my finger firmly against the trigger. My eyes narrow into a glare, but the guy suddenly turns on his heel and races out of the apartment before I can even shoot him back.

"Payne, g-go after h-him! Get t-the others!" Harry orders from where he's hunched over by the couch. Liam immediately nods and rushes out of the apartment without further question, chasing after the unknown man that just fled.

I drop my gun and rush over to Harry who's clutching hold of his wound, fresh, red blood spilling out between his fingers. "Oh my god, Harry," I breathe out, moving his hand away from his chest to inspect the wound which I find is only a mere inches below his heart. "You just fucking jumped in front of a gun for me, you......you......idiot!"

His green eyes flash up to meet mine, the viridescent hue much brighter against his now sickly pale skin. "I'm a t-trainer," he reminds me in between a cough, seeming to ignore the fact I just called him an idiot. "I have a d-duty of care over y-you."

"I don't think that means taking a bullet for me!" I remind him angrily, although I'm not quite sure why I'm angry at him. He just jumped in front of a gun for me, he just took a bullet for me, he literally saved my life. I should be grateful, I would be if it were anyone else. But with him, I just feel angry.

Harry just ignores my anger, instead focusing on trying to keep his breathing steady, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead from the effort. "Rochelle," he murmurs, his hand suddenly grabbing hold of my arm to get me to look at him. "You h-have to get this bullet out, before it m-moves to an organ or m-my heart."

"What?!" I exclaim in complete disbelief, my eyes widening. "I...I don't know how to do that. I've never removed a fucking bullet before....."

Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm not prepared for this. I don't know how to do this. Why didn't I focus on the actual medicine in Grey's Anatomy instead of swooning over Patrick Dempsey and Eric Dane the whole time? McDreamy and McSteamy don't seem to be helping me very much now.

"It'll b-be ok," he assures me, his face screwing up in pain as he tries to stand up straight, his grip tightening on my arm as he uses me for balance. "I-I'll teach you."