Isla’s POV
BANG.
The gun fired. Zayne jerked violently backward, the force spinning him half-around, his grip on me tearing away as he stumbled. Pain cracked across his face—real, sharp, uncontrolled.
“ZAYNE!” I screamed again, sprinting toward him.
His hand clutched his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers, his dark shirt quickly became saturated with blood. He staggered, knees buckling—
And I caught him before he hit the ground.
“Stay with me,” I whispered, voice trembling.
His breath left him in a sharp groan. “f**k—Isla—get down—”
But another burst of gunfire erupted, too close, too loud. We dove behind a walkway pillar just as bullets ripped through the vines overhead.
My heart felt like it was breaking through my chest. Zayne’s body was heavy against mine, warm, tremb
