Winning My Ex-Crush

Laird’s POV

I was sure I was going to die.

My body ached, my face and head hurt, and my stomach was especially painful. The final blow from Alan sent me flying into the metal shelf on the wall. The edge of the rack hurt my temples, and the pain grew stronger. Blood oozed from my temple.

Although I wanted to fight the man again, my legs felt weak. I spurred myself to get up, but Alan confronted me. He raised the gun on the floor that we had been fighting over. My breath caught and the pain around my waist became more and more stifling.

Slumped on the floor, I summoned up what was left of my strength to fight Alan again. I just didn’t know if it would be enough to defeat Alan once and for all.

The muzzle of the gun was pointed at my head. I looked into Alan’s eyes, right in the center between the gun that threatened me. The man was grinning as if he had already won.

I didn’t want to give up. I had to save Fenella.

My hand slowly reached for the shelf behind me. I don’t know what I’m holding, but it feels cold, long, and quite heavy. It seemed to be a metal steering wheel lock, so I tightened my hand slowly, still breathing heavily.

“Goodbye, Laird.”

In the next second, I swung the iron steering wheel lock as hard as I could towards the shin of Alan’s leg. Right at the same time, the car door slammed wide open, and Alan flew forward. Alan groaned. A loud bang blaring in my ears.

My heart was racing, but I still seemed to be breathing. I haven’t died yet.

In the blink of an eye, I immediately crushed on Alan’s slumped back. The gun in his hand fell back to the floor. I didn’t hesitate to hit Alan’s cheek with the long iron. He once again roared angrily and pushed my body off his back again.

This time only primal instinct was at play. He was no longer focused on the gun. With a crude slap, he tried to punch me in the cheek. It was just that my kick was faster to reach his cheek. He slumped back down.

“You’re really hard to knock out,” I growled at my opponent.

“So do you,” he said, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

We locked eyes fiercely. In the next second, he attacked me again, and I attacked him. My fist clenched and hit his stomach, while he swung his arm to hit the base of my neck.

Fists, punches, and kicks again rolled through the room. We slammed into each other between the wall and the front hood of the car.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

I stole the opportunity to retrieve the only weapon I could rely on. I kicked Alan into the same metal shelf. Then I jumped up to grab the metal steering wheel lock.

Unbeknownst to me, Alan had also picked up his gun again.

Both my hands tightened around one end of the steering wheel lock. With a sharp, powerful swing, like hitting a baseball, I swung the long metal rod with all my might at Alan’s cheek. My blow crushed Alan’s head against the wall and steering wheel lock.

Right at that moment, another bullet flew out of the black gun Alan was holding.

The metal rod dropped onto the floor. Alan stared at me. His eyes widened, and he fell against the wall and lay helplessly on the floor.

Alan collapsed with the gun lying weakly near his feet.

“God, you’re persistent,” I growled between my lips, soaked in sweat and blood.

The smell of iron was immediately inhaled by my nose. I spat blood from my mouth. Then, as I looked down at my stomach, I realized now why my stomach felt so painful.

“Laird!”

Fenella got out of the car and came over to me. She hugged and kissed my cheek. Both her hands supported my body tightly, and I started leaning my body against her.

“Are you alright?” I asked her in a soft whisper.

“Yes, I’m alright. Laird, you’re hurt.”

Fenella’s tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice was choked and stifled by sobs that made her body shake violently. My hand came up and rubbed Fenella’s cheek. I put my arm around Fenella and pressed our foreheads together.

“Thank God you’re alright,” I said in a soft whisper to her.

Several FBI officers rushed in. They immediately went through the garage and handcuffed Peter and Alan. In the back, the commander and Prosecutor Golden entered the crime scene.

“Did you catch them all?” Old man Golden’s forehead wrinkled at our mess.

“Yes,” I answered quickly with sweat pouring down my face.

“Oh my! He’s hurt!” Jessy squealed.

“Finally you’ll have some manly scars.” Matthew laughed.

“Shut up! We need paramedics. Laird’s been shot in the stomach,” Fenella snapped at them, still crying.

“Paramedics, please bring some stretchers. Two perpetrators are unconscious, and one victim has a gunshot wound to the abdomen,” the commander said into his comm.

Then he grabbed a small remote and opened the wall that served as the garage exit. The wall slowly rotated upwards to reveal several FBI officers waiting behind it.

“Over here!” The commander called out to the medic. “Bring the ambulance here!”

I held my stomach, which was stinging. A burning sensation spread throughout my body, with one spot that continued to ooze blood. Sweat flooded my body, and my legs began to fail to support myself. I slumped down, and Fenella was unable to hold my body down on the garage floor.

“Damn.”

My face scrunched up to endure the pain that was now becoming more intense. I didn’t expect to feel this much pain. My ribs hurt on one side, while the other side was bleeding from the gunshot wound.

“Laird, hold on! The paramedics will be here soon.” Fenella hugged my head and made her lap my pillow.

“Don’t cry, Fenella. I’m okay.”

My breath hitched with pain all over my body. My head hurt, my jaw was stiff, and blood wouldn’t stop seeping down my shirt.

“You need to apply pressure to the wound so the bleeding will stop.”

Prosecutor Golden took off his shirt, revealing a body clad only in an undershirt. He then pressed my stomach with the shirt in his hand.

“What are you doing, old man?” I asked softly as my eyes glanced at him.

Pain and fatigue made my whole body limp. I began to feel unable to move my muscles. The throbbing pain continued to gnaw at my stomach.

“I helped you to stop the blood,” he groaned in exasperation with his forehead furrowed.

“It’s rare to see you worry,” once again the volume of my voice seemed to grow smaller amidst heavy breathing.

“I’m worried about losing the witness. Can you shut up already?” He snapped at me.

I snorted.

“I’ll pass. I’ll give up my lawyer’s license tomorrow,” I said softly.

“But you’re still my witness unless you die here.”

“Don’t say it like that! He won’t die that easily!” Fenella barked at the old man.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to encourage him.”

“Fuck. That’s not how you encourage someone.” Matthew groaned.

I snorted back a chuckle. But instant pain shot through my stomach once again. My face contorted, and I held my breath to drown out the pain.

“Stop talking, Laird. Please, just breathe.”

Fenella looked down at my face. Her tears ran down my cheeks. Her hands cupped my face with her soft fingers.

“I love you, Laird Evans.”

“I love you more.”

That was all I remembered before darkness enveloped my vision.