Rhys isn't happy about what he had to do to protect his life. He's even less happy when he sees the gun come up anyway and realizes he's still fucked. Bucky is messed up and that screws up his aim but that's still not enough and Rhys is moving but that's not enough either. He sees the gun but not the bullet and the bang comes after he feels the impact. Center mass is not a hard mark to hit, and Rhys takes the bullet low in the chest...but still high enough to be a critical threat.

This time he does hit the pavement and it's not fatal, not right away, but it's still bad. He has enough presence of mind to give a last stab at taking Bucky down, too, trying pull something to twist or break, and then everything else happens and he's done. His entire body seizes and locks with the pain and all thoughts of fighting go out the window, replaced withI have been shot. I have been shot in the chest.

Maybe he's seen some rough things, but most of the time, he's still just a bartender.

"Was just trying to help." It's probably gonna be on his tombstone. He reaches under his coat to realize that the cold feeling is blood, there is a weird wheezing sound coming with his words, and he tastes copper in his mouth. Oh God damn that is a lung. It wasn't a perfect shot but they might just both wind up dead anyway. How very OK Corral. Or Hamlet.