Chapter Twenty Seven

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Chapter Twenty Seven

I ran.

I ran straight towards him but it didn't matter. I hadn't seen them; they had halted me from reaching him. I was so close to where Drake laid, blood seeping into the ground from his abdomen. I could feel his struggle to stay strong, I could feel his frustration to get back up, and I could feel his fear for me. But just as I had reached to grab him into my arms, a painful shock ran through my lower body. Drake's eye widened as he shouted words I couldn't comprehend as I looked down at my leg. My hand pressed on the wound from the bullet, my bare skin was cold as blood trickled down my fingers.

I got shot.

I bit down on my lip to withhold the agonizing scream that I knew wanted release. When I saw the look in Drake's eyes, I held all my emotions back and smiled. It was wobbly but it was still there while I tried to reassure to him that everything was fine.

He shook his head, his hand touching my wound before stuttering a whisper, "Yellow...red rose... read..."

Then he blacked out as unknown hands dragged him away from me. I fought at them but they had guns pointed at my head. I would have accepted death but I couldn't die knowing I gave up without a fight to get Drake back.

The boys tried to fight back, they tried to get Drake but there were too many of them and they were more armed then all seven of us. That was the things about gangs, they were ruthless and there were many. Drake was shoved into a van but then I got shot on the same leg for smashing the windows with my knuckle buster. I had beaten several of Laurent's gang members but there were over thirty and they kept growing in number.

My boys were bloodied, they were bruised and they had been shot more than twice. It ached to feel so helpless. Even when the guys tried to push me out the way, trying to get me to safety, I refused with determination but as I watched the van Drake's body was in, everything inside me drained.

I felt empty.

I felt useless.

I felt like death.

It wasn't a nice feeling.

"Rose! We need to go, the police, they're coming!" Dean's panicked; rushed tone had no affect on me. I didn't respond as I looked at the very spot where Drake's blood was stained into the grass. My knees giving way as I dropped, my bottom lip trembling but no tears fell. I didn't know what to do. I didn't even protest when Troy lifted me up and carried me towards their car. Everything turned into a bottomless blur as I stared down at the handprint on my leg. The shot was below the end of shorts so when Drake had placed his hand on my wound, he left a part of him on there.

I could here the guy's shouting orders at each other. Some of them on the phone calling other members of the gang, as they demanded for more weapons, more fighters and getting all the information of the gang that had taken Drake away from me. They wasted no time. Even with their wounds they got down to business without a seconds thoughts but while they shouted and dug for back up, I had other plans.

Two shot's in my leg was unbearable to handle. My eyes were dropping and I then realised I kept waking up from unconsciousness every once in a while. I would remember snippets of my time awake. Things like, the drive, the arrival to a rundown warehouse in the middle of nowhere, a man poking me with needles, faces of my boys looking down at me reassuringly yet their eyes were worried came rushing to my mind as I looked up at a greyish ceiling. The paint was peeling off and the smell of dust screamed old.

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