Changing You ✦ 𝑍.𝐷.𝐻.

Chapter 49 {R}

Ten seconds passed. The echo of the gunshot was still bouncing off the walls and circling around the air. Its loud impact had left a beeping tone inside my ears, my hearing almost completely numbed.

I still didn't feel anything — no bullet sinking into my flesh, piercing my skin, ripping my heart apart. To my surprise, it was still beating, loud and fast.

Another ten seconds passed, until I finally dared to open my eyes.

They immediately found Killian, who was still standing directly in front of my face. Something was wrong with him, I realised.

His eyes had gone so wide they looked like they were about to roll out of their sockets. Even though they were aimed at me, I was almost sure he couldn't see me. His mouth was hanging open, trying to suck in oxygen but failing — like a fish on the shore.

Ten seconds. Then everything stopped.

His mouth fell open completely, like the muscles of his jaw had shut off. His pupils seemed to be frozen in place, a dull haze falling over them and concealing them in a lifeless expression.

With my breathing getting caught inside my throat, I watched him fall to the floor.
I was unable to hear his body smack on the ground, but pictured the sound of his heavy limbs meeting the hard surface in my mind.

The bullet wound in the side of his head gaped at me, thick, dark red blood flooding onto his face and soaking his dark hair.

Even though my stomach was twisting and clenching together like I was about to vomit, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

His body wasn't convulsing, he wasn't fighting spasms, his chest wasn't rising and falling in desperate breaths — there was nothing. As I looked at him, lying completely still on his side next to Zach's unconscious father, I realised Killian was already dead.

And it hadn't lasted any longer than thirty seconds.

"...underestimating me."

I barely heard Zach finish his sentence, the high tone that was ringing inside my ears numbed all the other sounds to a faint background volume.

Zach's figure stepped in front of my frozen gaze. He let the gun fall out of his hands and reached out to my shoulders.

It wasn't until his trembling fingers connected with my upper arms, that I finally broke my gaze from the corpse at my feet.

His hazel-brown eyes moved between mine. He let them run over my face multiple times until he was sure I was okay.

I couldn't find words to speak to him. In all the times I had seen Zach with a gun in his hands the past few weeks, he hadn't pulled the trigger once. Now that he had, I wasn't sure what to think: I was too overwhelmed by the whole situation to get my thoughts straight.

He didn't say anything either, but just kept his eyes locked with mine. They started up a non-verbal conversation, the many things he wanted to say swimming in his forest-brown orbs. I failed terribly at reading them, though.

I think that's why he broke eye contact. Then his lips moved, and I had to focus on my hearing to understand what he was saying. For a second, the thought of the damage to my ears being permanent crossed my mind and it scared me to death.

Zach had to repeat his question. "Would it be better if I carried you?"

While the aching of my leg and throbbing of my other body parts urged me to accept his offer, my mind hesitated.

I reminded myself that Zach had acted in order to save me, that he was here to help me. But our last conversation, where he had called me a monster and indirectly threatened me, was still perfectly edged into my memory. My energy-drained body won, eventually.