275- Shadows of Survival

275- Shadows of Survival
POV Nicholas:

The barrel drops a couple degrees and I don’t hesitate twice to shoot his leg. He falls to the side and the high-pitched scream of pain is music to my ears.

"Fuck, you son of a bitch! I know you won’t kill me — you wouldn’t ruin your life again over a woman."

I step firmly in a straight line, stop, and lower my arms toward my forehead.

"Don’t compare Raica to anyone, you piece of shit."

"Go fuck yourself — you couldn’t even kill your brother, even seeing his damn blood pouring from your fiancée’s pussy. You think you’ll intimidate me with that gun?"

The taste of blood slides down my throat; my controlled pulse gives me the coldness to pierce his forehead and stop his heart from beating. I’d never seen myself kill anyone until this moment.

"Don’t compare yourself to my brother — I’d never be able to make his heart stop. Yours, on the other hand, is my main desire."

"NICHOLAS, NO!"

I turn my face and Dominic, very frightened by the scene, begs me to drop the gun — how could I let my guard down if another man points at me in an unexpected impulse? Deloy always carries a gun and, even with his bodyguards, he said his pistol shielded his chest and his back.

"Why don’t you point it at me, you piece of shit?"

"Because this triangle has become very entertaining, don’t you think?"

Dominic cautiously approaches, asking for calm even with the barrel pointed at his head. Brizz is as good a shooter as I am — we trained together in the United States — which makes my body tremble; if he fires, my brother dies. And that’s not something that eases my breathing.

"What the hell is this, Nicholas?" Dominic tries to understand the chaotic point Deloy and I have reached.

"Your brother decided to be the savior of grieving whores."

"Shut up, you son of a bitch!" I twist my lips, steady the gun, and a drop of sweat trickles down my forehead. "Dominic, get out of here — this is between me and that bastard."

"If you move I’ll shoot, Dominic. Nothing personal — it’s just an exchange with your brother who decided to throw away everything we built for some little whore."

I smile bitterly, plotting how to shoot and immobilize the bastard without giving him a chance to pull the trigger.

"This piece of shit, Dominic, is an accomplice in Renan’s death, and handed Raica over to Munhoz. The luck is Rebecca already rescued her, and if he doesn’t die he’ll be arrested."

Brizz laughs like a sadist — he wants to destabilize me and will use Raica to do it.

"Neither of them — do you really think Brazil’s shitty justice system will condemn me? It didn’t convict Munhoz who, with kicks, sprayed Renan’s blood in the parking lot until he died. Do you really think I’ll be convicted?" He bites his lips and thinks of something that turns his face into pleasure. "You know, Nick, I understand the fascination with the little black girl."

My air struggles to come out — he didn’t…?

"You touched her?" the question bleeds from my throat.

"Brother, what a tasty pussy."

"NO!"

Everything happens very fast.

"DON’T DO IT, NICHOLAS."

Dominic’s plea isn’t enough — in a swift movement, I fire the shot that hits the miserable man in the chest. Deloy feels the hole, but in that fraction of a second, he shoots in Dominic’s direction; I turn my head and see he didn’t hit him.

When I come back to the rest of the filth thrown half a body on the floor, I understand that nothing is by chance — the bastard fires.

One. Two. Three.

I feel the lead tear through my abdomen; my knees fold weakly, unable to bear the weight of my body. The physical throb, very similar to the emotional one I’ve felt for years, spreads through my blood like a deadly virus; my vision blurs, and with one last lapse of consciousness, I fire two shots into the center of the bastard’s chest.

He collapses.

I do too.

(...)
POV Raica:

"NICHOLAS!" I jerk my torso up on impulse, eyes wide open, mouth dry, heart pounding out of control. I feel soft hands touching my body, trying to quiet my movements.

"Calm down, girl, calm down…" Isabella wraps her arms around me, her gentle perfume and warmth soothing my agitated state. "How do you feel?"

I reach her face, giving a lazy caress to the side of it.

"A little sore."

"Better lie down."

My friend fluffs the pillows behind my back and guides me to lean against them.

"Has Nicholas returned from Dubai? Were the bastards arrested? Did they catch Deloy?" I fire off questions, and Isabella smiles, not knowing which to answer first. "Before you answer, I want some water." She hands me a glass; the liquid runs down, easing the pain in my throat.

"Better?"

"Yes." I hand the glass back. "I’m fine. Don’t hide anything, please." Isabella, before sitting on the edge of the bed, walks over to a sideboard on the other side of the room and sets the glass down.

"Munhoz was arrested with two accomplices right after Rebecca rescued you, unconscious in the trunk of the car. A team is on the trail of two other killers right now; it’s certain they’ll be arrested today."

I relax my body against the softness of the mattress. They were arrested, Renan — they were arrested.

"Raica, do you remember what they did to you?"

"I…" My voice falters with the sketch of the cursed memory.

"I remember."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I…" I feel the contact of filthy hands prying my legs open. "Deloy was going to rape me, but Álvaro stopped him because he said the rape was supposed to be collective, so they beat me until I lost consciousness."

Isabella lets out a hard breath.

I spare my friend the most gruesome details. I was dragged out of the club certain my minutes were numbered. Worse, I was dragged out of that club terrified I’d suffer the worst before death. The bastards spat insults, took turns hitting me, promised the vilest atrocities. I had never felt such fear; those were terrifying moments.