Chapter 41

                                    

                                          
Shots were fired the second that Harry had screamed at me. I was pulled down on my arm harshly by Harry. He was kneeled down on the ground, using the table as a shield and his eyes fleeted over the scene rapidly, calculating the risks. Then, he grabbed my wrist in an iron grip and dragged my body away from the table, towards a door. 
The sound of gun-shots was deafening, as well as the loud screaming. Bullets flew around the room. When we neared the door, a bullet flew right through my upper arm, making me scream in agony. 
"RUN!" Harry bellowed, pushing me towards the exit with one arm while shooting someone with the other over his shoulder. 
I ran for my life, not stopping to get some new air in my lungs. When all of the sounds were only barely audible, I opened the first door on my left. I fled into the hiding place, happy to find a lock on the door. I clicked it shut, before looking around. I was in a small bathroom that wasn't much larger than four square metres. 
Now that I had a moment of rest and my breathing became more controlled, I took a look at the arm I was shot in. Blood was flowing from the wound at an alarming rate and waves of pain radiated through my whole body. 
I had to tie the blood flow off if I wanted to at least have a chance at survival, however there was nothing in the small room that resembled a helpful tool. No belts, no rope, nothing. I sighed out of frustration, anger running through my body. I look around once more, when an idea popped into my head. An incredibly stupid idea but probably my only option; the dress I was wearing. 
It took some effort to get myself out of the dress but once I did, I rolled it into a tight band and wrapped it around my upper arm, just above the shot wound. A hiss escaped my mouth when I pulled the fabric tight which made the blood flow less severe. Making a knot with only one hand was quite the challenge. 
My body shivered from the cold air that was now touching my skin but it might be from the adrenaline that flew through me at an alarming rate. I looked down, grimacing at my white skin that was now covered in blood, as was the soft-blue underwear I was wearing right now. Blood continued to trickle from the shot-wound and I started to wonder how much blood I had lost already. It must be a lot, since I was getting light headed. I wish I could have blamed it on the adrenaline. 
The choice was hard, however. If I would stay in my hiding spot, the chance was big that I would be found before I bled out. Then again, I wasn't even sure if I would be found by a member of Malevolent. If I still ended up in the wrong hands, I'd might as well die right in my hiding spot. 
My other choice was going out and try to find Harry or any other member that might recognise me. The chance of survival wasn't as big as I would have liked either. If I'd met any member of the Evans' gang, I would be killed within a minute. Or, they would keep me and use me. I also didn't have any weapon on me to defend myself either. 
I shook my head in frustration. God I wish I had a hair-tie. My hair was tangled and clumped together with blood, which made loose strands hang in my face constantly. That was when an idea popped up in my head. I eyed the mirror that hung in the room as well. It seemed thick, almost impossible to break. My eyes scanned the room quickly, searching for anything that might support my idea. 
They stopped when eyeing the toilet brush and silver holder. That might be an idea.. I grabbed them without thinking twice about the hygiene and rammed them against the mirror with my good arm. The brush didn't have much impact except for poking my harshly in a muscle when pouncing back. I moaned painfully at the sharp jab but could scream from happiness when the silver holder had broken the mirror in several pieces. 
Now, I had to be quick. It wouldn't be a surprise if anybody had heard the loud sound. I opened the door without thinking twice, knowing that my time was ticking away. The hallway was still empty, save for the trail of blood that I had left when entering the toilet. Nobody must have been here yet, then. 
I followed the way I came from, hoping to find Harry somewhere down that path. He mustn't have strayed away from the dining room that far. He wasn't the type to leave a fight, especially not when his gang members were at risk. 
The hallways were dark and silent. I tried to walk as quietly as I could, my weapon clenched in my hand tightly. When I approached a corner, I pushed myself against the wall to look around it carefully, checking if the coast was clear.
That was when a pair of thick arms wrapped around me from the back. 
"Gotcha, you little girl." The french accent couldn't be mistaken. Fuck! I had to act quickly. He was already lifting me off the floor, ready to drag me away. I flailed my limbs, before remembering my weapon. It was an awkward corner to move in when I punched the sharp piece towards the man. I succeeded however.
The man screamed in pain, his arms leaving my body. Once I was on the ground, I turned around and saw the piece of mirror sticking from his neck, the blood spurting over the walls. Bile rose in my throat at the sight. The man collapsed on the ground not a second later, only some gurgling sounds leaving his mouth before silence engulfed us. 
I had just killed someone. 
And now I had to retrieve my weapon from his bloody neck. I had to find support on the wall for a moment, swallowing the bile that had risen in my throat. It didn't work. The bile came out with a loud gag and a burning sensation.
I didn't take time to recover, my body fully in survival mode. My eyes found a gun sitting in his waistband then. I didn't waste a moment and threw myself towards the man and snatched it from his waistband. 
I had to continue, even though the world was spinning and I was nauseous and I had just killed a man. I left the man without looking back, still running in the direction of dining room. With every corner I took, I began getting less secure about my sense of direction. Was I going the right way? The soles of my bare feet left a slapping sound on the cold tiles. 
When turning around another corner, I came face to face with another man. He was younger, around his thirties, with bright blue eyes. He looked at me for a second before moving his hands towards his waistband. 
I was quicker though, with the gun still in my hands and pointed it at the man, who had now find his as well. He raised it towards me. A lump formed in my throat when I looked in the barrel of the gun. I knew I should've shot already, but being at gunpoint too made me freeze up. 
It made the man grin, clicking the safety of his handgun. I was shaking harshly. It was either now of never. I pulled the trigger of the gun I had in my hands, closing my eyes and bracing myself against the impact. It hurt my arm so harshly that I screamed out in pain, my eyes flying open.
Only to see that I had missed.
The bullet had ricochet against the wall. The man was staring at me with large eyes and composed himself ever so quickly. He was now sneering at me.
"You fucking bitch." He said and moved his finger to the trigger again. A shot echoed through the loud hallway, signalling the nearing end. 
A large splatter of blood flew towards me and the warm fluid covered my body, as the large frame of the man collapsed and thudded face-down on the ground. Louis stood behind him, the gun still in front of him. His eyes were surprised when they raked over my body.
I collapsed. Every emotion had gotten the best of me, as well as the severe loss of blood. But I had made it. I had found a familiar face. 
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