He felt the familiar sting, the pain that accompanied a bullet piercing his body. Before the next shot could be fired, the man was dead and Pietro was looking back at Summer, “I told you not to follow,” he said as the blood started to fall down his body as he started to get woozy, using a nearby car to hold himself up. ”Are you ok?”
“You’ve been shot,” she said blankly. “Pietro. You’ve been shot!” She rushed over to him, putting a shoulder under his arm, and drew the pain away. “Like I was going to let you handle this alone.”