𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

25 || Ride Or Die

Song: TheNeighbourhood - Softcore (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Nico

Josie Dumont was slowly but surely plaguing every aspect of my being.

And, no, I didn't just deduce this statement out of my ass. There were reasons as to why I've come to this conclusion, many of them.

For starters, Franco should've been dead fifteen  minutes ago but here I was, standing in a dirty club bathroom, smashing one of my highest earning dealers' head into a wall for something I shouldn't even care about.

Who gave a shit if he took an interest in Bambi? If he wanted to fuck her? Touch her?

Apparently I did.

And apparently, it irritated me so much that I didn't even bother giving him a chance to explain. He was somewhat of an acquaintance and I didn't even hesitate when I shot right through his temple.

I tuck my gun back into the waistband of my slacks before pulling out my phone and sending a message, informing my men that someone needed to come clean up this mess.

And I blamed her for it all.

For ruining my plans for the night, for fucking with my mind to a point where it was affecting my work. But most importantly, I blamed her for what happened last night.

The second she'd walked out of my office on shaky legs, presumably from the orgasm I'd just given her, I received a call I'd been waiting months for.

Danny was back.

And within the next hour, I had him.

Sniper positioned, aimed out of an open widow on the 4th floor of an abandoned warehouse. I had eyes on my target - the man who knew his fate, yet succeeded in escaping from it.

Danny sat in a small coffee shop, furiously typing away on his laptop. His face contoured in concentration.

I didn't think he was foolish enough to step foot into my city, not when he knew I'd find him. But here he was, in a quaint coffee shop in Brooklyn for some unknown reason.

The hit was a clean one. Target laid perfectly against the skin of his pale forehead. All I had to do was pull the trigger.

And I was going to. But I paused when a piece of hair fell onto his forehead, right into target.

A piece of brown hair.

The same shade as Bambi's, only her hair was shiner, softer, longer.

I took the shot.

So long that I could wrap it around my fist or tug on the tender strands as I guided myself into her mouth or pushed her lips against mine.

I missed the shot.

The bullet flew right past Danny's head and into the wall behind him, giving him the perfect amount of time to get away.

I missed the shot.

I, Nico Blaine missed a shot I'd been trained to perform in my sleep.