𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 | HuskerDust

Three

The first thing he noticed as soon as he opened his eyes was the shallow darkness, a faint light coming from a door that was slightly ajar. He went to move his arms, only to feel the burn of rope bounding his wrists. His shot arm was killing him metaphorically but it might as well be literally. His mind couldn't keep up with the pain. 

"Oh good, yer awake," a rough voice spoke from somewhere beside him. He blinked, trying to find where the voice is coming from. He flinched when he felt a cold hand on his leg. "Easy, kid. I'm just checkin' da gunshot. Yer arm looked fine, da bullet seemed to have just badly grazed ya. Yer leg, on da other hand, has no exit hole."

"Why are ya bothering ta help me? Shouldn't ya have killed me by now? Dispose of the evidence or whatever?" He asked in a tired tone. He felt tired and didn't seem to care what happened to him anymore. After all, he did just survive being shot twice by his father's henchmen and escaped the mafia. What could be worse than that?

"Ya look useful, according ta da boss," the person replied. "I'm gonna need ta remove the bullet from yer leg. I'll have ta ask da boss about it though. I'll be right back."

His eyes widened, knowing that removing the bullet from his leg was going to be literal hell. He tried to get his hands free, simply so he can at least get away from the person who wanted to perform surgery on him. Unfortunately, all he managed to do was tighten the ropes and cause himself to get rope burn. Tears filled his eyes as he tried to escape. 

He needed to live so he can see Molly and his older brother more time.