Page 21 of Kill Shot

On the Brink

Nico

Seb didn’t leave until dawn. They fucked twice more before then, and by the time that he was finally seeing Seb out to the door, Nico was completely and utterly spent.

He would have given Seb a ride, but he assured him that it would be a terrible idea. Instead, Seb called for one of his guards to pick him up.

If nothing else, Nico had to admire his courage. That sounded like it would be a very, very uncomfortable car ride back to his father’s house.

But once Seb was finally safe among his guards and driving away, Nico was left alone, watching through his window and struggling to come to terms with exactly what he was feeling.

Christ, he was thinking about the safety of Seb. What was the world coming to? Wouldn’t he be better served if Seb did get kidnapped or worse? After all, wouldn’t that absolve Nico of his pesky conscience since it wouldn’t involve him directly doing anything to the boy?

Impossible, of course. There was no way that he could let anything happen to Seb, not unless it happened by Nico’s own hand. He let himself believe that it was possessive pride, and he tried very hard not to think about whether he would be able to go through with it when the day finally came.

Maybe this could all be resolved just by ruining Sebastian and turning him into a drooling little cockslut that couldn’t survive without Nico fucking him. That would certainly be one way to crush his father, but Nico knew that wouldn’t be enough for Bolero.

Bolero wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than his complete and utter destruction.

As if right on cue, the front door unlocked. Lucas was returning home.

Nico continued to stare out the window, darkly amusing himself with the prospect of Lucas finding all the dirty laundry and trash that held evidence of what had just happened. His jealous rage would be a sight to behold.

And for all he knew, Lucas might have actually returned to the safehouse earlier. He might have showed up while Nico was buried in Seb’s tight ass, too lost in the ecstasy to realize. Lucas might have made a hasty departure and been left on his own for hours to come to terms with his feelings.

In spite of himself, Nico couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the bastard. They had been more than mere gang brothers at one point, after all.

“I’m surprised you’re up already,” Lucas called as he stepped into the room and shrugged out of his coat.

Nico watched him in the mirror. If Lucas knew exactly what had just happened in this apartment, then he had certainly gotten much better at acting lately, and the chances of that weren’t high at all.

No, the simplest and most likely explanation was that Lucas had no idea that Nico had just fucked Seb on the couch. And on the bed. And in the kitchen.

Nico barely managed to suppress the shiver that ran through him at the memories. He could already feel his cock stirring back to life.

“I spoke to Bolero last night,” Lucas said when it was clear that Nico wasn’t going to respond to his initial comment. “He is getting impatient.”

“But he’s not in charge of this operation. I am,” Nico said.

The edge in his tone would normally have made Lucas stand down, but today, he bristled, locking eyes with Nico through the reflection in the window.

“You’re getting too attached to the blond brat. If you aren’t careful, then you’ll be compromised.”

Ah, then Lucas definitely didn’t know. There was absolutely no way that he would have been able to say that with a straight face if he knew that Nico had just fucked Seb’s perfect little mouth just a few minutes ago, one last parting gift. It had been a goodbye kiss of a sort, Nico mused.

But Lucas was not amused by his silence at all.

“Are you actually even using him to get to Pablo? Just what the hell is your plan? That you’re gonna trick the boy into getting on a plane to Mexico one day? And for what? Just so that you can tell Pablo that his son left of his own accord rather than being snatched?”

It had been a calculated move not to tell Lucas about his plan to seduce Seb, and the wisdom of that choice had just become even clearer to Nico.

This was how much Lucas lost his head at the mere thought of Nico giving attention to Sebastian.

Just how much worse would it get if he knew the full extent of things?

“I am still carrying out the mission.” Nico did not raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. His steely tone was all he’d ever needed. “The plan is to hurt Pablo Altamirano as much as humanly possible. Are you suggesting that I should let him off easy?”

“From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re doing just that. Him and that little brat of his. What the hell are you doing? ?Qué chingados estás haciendo?”

Nico sighed and closed his eyes. Very well. If that wasn’t going to be enough to convince Lucas, then he could dig deep. He could go down to where all his most hated memories dwell, and he could make Lucas regret ever even opening his mouth.

“Mattias Lopez.”

That was all Nico needed to say to make Lucas blanch, but that sure as hell wasn’t as far as he was gonna go.

“Nico, I didn’t mean it that way,” Lucas said weakly, but Nico cut him off with a raised hand.

“The man who was my father. My cousins. My mom and sisters. My uncle’s men. I saw them all dead. I was there , Lucas. Were you?”

“Nico, I—”

“Yes, I know, you didn’t mean it that way,” Nico continued mercilessly.

“I don’t ever want to hear you question how dedicated I am to the mission again, ni de pinche broma .

Not even as a fucking joke. I want nothing more than to bring Pablo Altamirano’s world down around his ears.

I won’t rest until he’s suffered just as much as I have, and since he doesn’t have nearly as many family members as I did, I’m just gonna have to make do with Sebastian and ensure that he suffers enough to make up the difference. ”

At the mention of Sebastian’s name, a little of the fire returned to Lucas’s gaze.

“Then it shouldn’t be any problem to just go back to kidnapping him, right? We can just get him to Bolero, then we can torture him all we want.”

Nico snarled, irritated that he was running out of ways to throw Lucas off his trail. More than that, he was furious with himself for even needing to cover his tracks in the first place.

“Fine, I’ll consider doing it your way, but I will be the one to pull the trigger.”

Lucas lingered for just a moment longer, his lips pressed together with unspoken words before he retreated to the room he used whenever he dropped by, leaving Nico alone with his perilous thoughts once more.

He felt sick with himself. And what a strange feeling it was.

It should be easy to let Seb go when the time comes… shouldn’t it? It was his entire reason for being here. Hell, getting revenge was his entire reason for living, and here he was, wondering if he could even go through with it.

And that wasn’t even the worst part. What really got him was that when he tried to distract himself and think of something calming and reassuring, the first thing that came to mind was Seb’s faint smile and gentle snores as he slept.

This wouldn’t do at all. Nico needed to find a distraction, fast.

The itch to paint suddenly rushed through his veins. He clenched his jaw and stormed across the room. Grabbing a blank canvas, he slammed it onto the easel with more force than necessary.

He didn’t even sit this time as he picked up a brush with trembling fingers and dipped it into a streak of black paint.

He had no idea what it was that he wanted to paint, but he didn’t care.

All that mattered to Nico was the itch to release the feelings stirring inside him, about Sebby.

The mission. Lucas. Bolero… Pablo. He just wanted silence.

A moment of stillness and peace to drown out the noise.

So he waited, breathing hard as he stared at the canvas. Any second now, and his demons would take over and drag his hand across the canvas.

And they sure did.

He painted in bursts of angry, frantic strokes without meaning or purpose, just going along with anything that came to him, mixing colors up as if in a trance.

Time slipped away before he knew it, and when Nico finally leaned back, chest heaving, with sweat slicking his spine like he’d just ran a marathon, he looked at the mess he’d made and laughed.

It was the kind of laugh that came from someone who knew he was well and truly fucked. Because in the bloody mess was a pair of innocent, blue-gray eyes staring back at him.