Page 39 of Kill Shot

Inferno

Nico

Nico opened his eyes and cautiously uncovered his ears. Even through the earplugs he’d been wearing, it still felt like he’d gone deaf.

He was miraculously unhurt. Or at least, his adrenaline kept him ignorant of his injuries.

His surroundings were no longer recognizable. Walls had been blown out, the ceiling caved in, and the floor a mess of sharp metal and burning embers. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the place.

Which had happened, he conceded.

Once he was quite sure that he was alone in the room—or at least the only one still capable of standing—Nico picked up a pistol lying on the ground and set about doing a more thorough examination of his environment.

None of Lucas’s men had been ready for the blast. That much was obvious, and the few survivors he found were not long for this world.

He didn’t put them out of their misery quite yet, but he did take the precaution of kicking their firearms away from them and leaving them to their fates, at least for now.

Lucas was both the first and the last that he found, depending on how he looked at it. There was blood spattered across the walls, but he’d held out hope that some of Lucas had survived right up until he found him half-buried beneath a pile of rubble, glassy eyes staring up sightlessly.

“You dumb bastard,” Nico said under his breath.

Somewhere, deep down inside him, there was a tugging at his heartstrings, but that was all. He couldn’t muster anything more than that for a man who he had once laughed and played with. They’d been comrades of a sort, but then Lucas had kidnapped Seb. There was simply no coming back from that.

A sudden fit of coughing caught Nico’s attention. It wasn’t coming from anywhere in the room, but in one of the hallways beyond, past a mountain of rubble covered in shards of metal and glass, slick with blood and ready to lacerate anyone foolish enough to climb over them.

But Nico recognized the sound of those coughs, so he clambered right on over that pile of misery, shredding his palms through his gloves and blocking out the pain by focusing on the only thing in the world that mattered.

Bolero was still alive, and he was right in front of Nico. His lifelong quest to punish Pablo Altamirano may have been a lie, but that didn’t mean that he was left without a suitable target.

Only now did he realize how much he’d hoped that Bolero hadn’t died in the assault. He wanted to do this by his own hand.

“Lucas? Answer me, dammit.” Bolero was seized by a fit of coughs, but even when he spoke, his voice was wheezing and labored. “Lucas!”

Nico was almost over the mound. He knew that he ran the risk of giving Bolero a chance to flee, but it sounded like the bastard was even more injured than Nico.

“Afraid you’re gonna have to settle for me,” he called out.

There was a small commotion of cursing and thudding. When Nico crested the debris, he saw that Bolero had stumbled and fallen in his haste to flee, and was even now crawling away.

One of his legs was twisted quite brutally. He didn’t stand a chance.

Nico descended slowly, picking his way down through the metal and concrete. There was no need to risk injuring himself by being overconfident. Now that he had Bolero right where he wanted him, he was going to savor things.

At some point, Bolero realized that the jig was up. He stopped his useless attempt to escape and propped himself up against a wall, his chest rising and falling with every gasping breath. His face was mottled beneath a thick layer of dust.

The bombs may not have killed him, but it looked like it had been a damn close thing.

“You,” Bolero hissed. “I always knew that you would betray us. I always knew that you would sell us out. I should’ve killed you when you were just a boy. I could see the ambition in your eyes even then, but I took pity on you. Pity!”

“Pity?” Nico asked as he slowly approached the man responsible for all that was wrong in his world. “Is that what you call lying to me and turning me into a killer? You knew what you were doing when you concealed the truth about my uncle from me.”

In an instant, Bolero transformed, straight from the mocking bastard who refused to accept defeat to a pitiable creature that was begging for his life.

It might have worked if Nico hadn’t seen just how mercenary, calculating, and shameless the man could be when it suited him.

Nothing was too low for the leader of the Black Cobras.

“Come on, Nico, don’t be like that, mijo . Didn’t we have some good times together? You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? I didn’t tell you all the nasty details because they weren’t fit for the ears of a child. But you’re a man now, you’re ready to face the truth.”

Did Bolero even listen to the shit he spewed? No, he almost certainly didn’t. He wasn’t in his right mind, and he was shooting out every possible explanation that he could, anything that could stay his execution for just a few more seconds.

Nico spied his true gambit with trivial ease. Bolero was slowly reaching for something, probably a gun that he had tucked away, maybe on his person or maybe he’d just spied it on the ground.

“The truth?” Nico asked, playing along. He wasn’t doing a particularly convincing job of it, for he was in no state to be a good actor, but neither was Bolero in any state to be a discerning critic. They were just two exhausted, bloodied men trying to fight over power one last time.

Unfortunately for Bolero, it wasn’t even close to a fair fight.

“Yes, the truth!” Bolero cried out, then muttered a curse under his breath. “Whatever that Altamirano asshole told you is a lie. I’m guessing he probably even told you that Mattias had been the one to shoot first, didn’t he? Of course he did, that would be just like him.”

“Are you saying that’s not the case?” Nico asked, ready to pull the trigger faster than he could blink. Of course, that wasn’t saying all that much considering how he could feel the blood crusting on one of his eyelids. Blinking was becoming downright laborious.

“That’s right. In truth, your uncle and the Altamiranos were actually in business together, but those northern assholes decided that they weren’t happy with what they had, so they started to sabotage your uncle’s business.

Shipments started getting caught by the feds and money started going missing. ”

Nico’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

Bolero sighed in relief, ostensibly because he’d finally gotten through to his once-loyal lieutenant, but Nico could see that he was just using that as a cover to inch a little closer to his weapon.

“I told your uncle that the Diamond Brotherhood was bad news from the start, but he never listened to me. He didn’t have a choice after they shot up three of our safehouses. After that, there was no choice but to go to war.”

“Fascinating,” Nico murmured.

Bolero looked up at him hopefully, and Nico had the pleasure of watching that expression slowly turn into fear and terrible realization. Nico knew that his own face must have been an awful sight to behold.

“I don’t blame you for not coming up with a more elaborate lie.

After all, you’re under a lot of pressure right now.

That’s why I think you basically told the entire truth, but you changed some of the names around.

I think you are the one who sabotaged things, and I think you wanted to move in on the Red Fangs’ territory.

I’m guessing you were even responsible for a few safehouses getting shot up to really get the tensions high.

Do I have that about right?” Nico let out a bitter, broken laugh, the kind that cracked under everything he couldn’t say.

“It doesn’t even matter what you tell me, Bolero.

Your sin… it isn’t just betrayal. It’s that you touched the boy.

I told Lucas not to. I told you not to. But you did.

You took my Sebby. And you tortured him,” Nico gritted out, “You fucking touched him!”

“Nico, I—”

A gunshot split the air, echoing back and forth. Nico was a little surprised that his ears were still capable of ringing after all they’d been through since the attack began.

Bolero, on the other hand, was exceptionally surprised to find a hole clean through his wrist, exposing tendons, veins, and bones.

“You… you shot me!” Bolero stared down at his hand in disbelief, struggling to come to terms with exactly what had happened.

“I did,” Nico agreed, staring down the length of his smoking barrel.

“And pretty soon, I’m gonna shoot you again, but you can trust me when I say there won’t be any need for a third shot.

You’ll be dead, and then you’ll be buried with the rest of Black Cobra.

If any of your men have any sense, they will have fled and forgotten all about you. ”

Bolero finally looked up at Nico, hatred simmering in his eyes.

“All this for that little blond brat?” He coughed violently. “Once you know what I did to him, you won’t even—”

Nico knelt down, pushing the barrel of his gun into Bolero’s mouth and silencing him. His only regret was that the tip wasn’t hot enough to scorch the man’s lips and tongue.

“Bolero, I’ve known you a long time, so I know exactly what you want to do here. You want to inflict some final bit of pain before you go. You want to poison my mind because you’re a hateful man that gets off on other people suffering.”

Bolero tried to reply, but his words were a garbled mess that only got even more unintelligible when Nico shoved the gun in even deeper. There was a sickening screech as metal ground against teeth, and Bolero’s entire jaw cracked as he was forced to open wider and wider.

“But I’m not gonna let you do that,” Nico continued.

“I’m not gonna listen to you, regardless of whether you’re embellishing, lying, or even if you’re telling the truth about what you did to Seb.

I simply don’t care because I love him, and I know you too well to be manipulated any longer.

That’s all there is to it. Now I’m gonna pull the trigger, and if you’re lucky, then you’re gonna go instantly.

However, I can’t promise that. There’s a pretty good chance that you might still be conscious for a while, and I cannot fathom the amount of pain, misery, and confusion that must come with knowing that your brain has just been rearranged and your skull blown wide open.

Your chances of survival are nonexistent, and you will never get revenge. ”

Bolero’s eyes visibly changed as he finally understood the gravity of the situation. There was no way he could turn this around, no underlings or friends that he could pit against one another. There was only the end, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

“Ordinarily, I’d say that I wish I could have a little more time with you,” Nico added.

“A big part of me wants to make you suffer more than anyone else, to make you squeal and scream until your lungs are ragged and raw. However, I don’t think that Seb would like that very much, so I’m gonna give you far better than you deserve.

Que te pudras en el infierno , fucking rot in hell, Bolero. ”

There were no last words for the leader of the Black Cobra.

He didn’t even deserve that much. One moment, he was a sad, pathetic excuse for a man, reduced from unimaginable wealth and power to a sniveling mess that had soiled his pants and would beg for his life if only he had the chance.

The next, he slumped down into a lifeless sack of flesh, all the light gone from his body.

Neurons were still firing, and his muscles were still twitching, but nobody had ever been deader.

Once he was finished processing what he’d just done, Nico rose to his feet and looked around, taking in just how much destruction he had wrought.

The Black Cobras were dead and gone. Someone else would surely pick up the pieces and move in, but Pablo and his men had ensured that as few pieces remained as possible.

They hadn’t just set explosives to cause chaos.

They’d specifically targeted the foundations and aimed to undermine structural integrity in every way.

Not a shred would remain of the fortress by the end of the day, and every pound of drugs, stack of cash, and horde of guns, would be reduced to nothing but ashes.

But Nico couldn’t go back to Seb, not yet. He had to make sure that this scourge was completely scoured from the earth before he could hope to put all this behind him.

There could be absolutely no chance that his past would catch up with him. He couldn’t make the same mistake that Pablo Altamirano had made all those years ago. He couldn’t leave loose ends that could come back to bite him in the future.

Nico picked his way through the debris, making sure there were no survivors.

He had no idea how long this would take. Could be days, could be months. It could even be years if he hit dead ends.

But perhaps that would be a blessing in disguise. He wanted to give Seb as much time as possible to heal and recover before he finally saw Nico again.

In the meantime, ripping up the roots of an international criminal organization would make for a worthy distraction. It would allow him to think about something other than the overwhelming desire to hold Seb in his arms again, to never let him go.

He’d give up anything in the world to spare Seb a single moment of unhappiness, especially after all of this.

If Seb wanted to talk about it, then Nico would listen.

If Seb never wanted to speak of these events again, then Nico would abide.

And if he couldn’t even bear to be near Nico after his suffering…

Nico gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yes, he was going to need to distract himself quite thoroughly.

It was a testament to how much he’d changed over the past few months that he didn’t even once stop to consider the possibility of vanishing and starting a new life. It would have been so easy now that everyone who knew his true identity was dead, but Seb’s pull was too strong.

No, before anything else, he had to face Seb again and face judgment. Not just for what he’d done, but for what he still wanted.

He didn’t expect Seb to forgive him, but if there was some fucked-up chance at building something real with Sebastian—even though Nico knew he didn’t deserve it—he’d take it. He only needed to know if there was anything left to fight for.

And he prayed it wasn’t too late.

He needed to see Seb’s face one more time, even if that would be the last.