Masimo's POV
Even though the hospital gave me the option to stay overnight, I never liked the sterile atmosphere. The constant beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic was suffocating, so I signed the discharge papers late at night. My body ached from the wounds, but nothing ached more than my disdain for hospitals. Once I got home, I crashed into bed, letting exhaustion take over.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt an unusual warmth pressed against my side. My eyes fluttered open, and I slowly shifted my gaze from the ceiling to the boy sleeping beside me. Ian. His face was so peaceful in his sleep, the tension he usually carried melting away. Even when he’s mad at me or cursing under his breath, he’s still so damn pretty. It’s unfair, really someone that good-looking should be illegal. But lucky for me, he’s all mine.
I stayed still, careful not to disturb him. I didn’t want to break this quiet moment. I couldn’t help but think back to the night of the accident. I knew exactly who was behind the attack. But the weapons they used... those were different. I shifted my arm, the dull throb of the wound reminding me of the bullet that pierced it. It wasn’t just any bullet. The investigation department confirmed it was specialized, sharper than usual and designed with a fin-like wing almost like a shark’s.
This wasn’t standard cartel equipment. These weapons hadn’t been introduced to the market yet. The cartel alone couldn’t have afforded something so advanced just for me. Someone bigger, someone with money and influence, had to be behind it. And I think I know exactly who. But without proof...
"Mowwningghh," Ian grumbled, his voice soft with sleep.
I chuckled softly, watching as he blinked his eyes open. "Morning. We can cuddle all day, kitten. I really don’t mind."
He winced, and in a split second, he jumped out of bed like a startled kangaroo. "I wasn’t cuddling! You were the one who pulled me close... stop smiling, asshole."
“There you go with the bad words again. Do you want another punishment?” I teased, enjoying the way his cheeks turned pink.
Instead of fear, Ian’s reaction surprised me he got shy. He cast his gaze down, mumbling, "I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have to use bad words if you’d stop teasing me."
He bolted toward the bathroom before I could respond, leaving me chuckling at his adorable flustered state. As I sat up, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I glanced at it and froze. A message from an unknown number:
How was the surprise? Like it?
That fucking bastard.
I knew exactly who had sent this, and he was going to pay. I dialed Mika, my second-in-command. "Get ready for a shootout with the cartel. Gather the men."
As I started getting dressed, Ian stepped out of the bathroom, concern written all over his face. “You still need rest. Where are you going?”
“There’s a mission that needs to be completed. If we don’t act now, things will get out of hand,” I replied, keeping my tone even, though the anger simmered beneath the surface.
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“But you’re still—” Before he could finish, I stepped closer and kissed his cheek, silencing him. His eyes widened in shock, but I kept my voice calm. "It’s okay. This is nothing. I’ll come back alive, don’t worry."
“I’m not worried,” he protested, his voice quieter now. “I’m just doing my job. And since you’re leaving, can I go back to the hospital to work as usual? You know I won’t run away.”
I sighed, feeling that familiar tug of guilt. We had gone over this time and again. “We’ve talked about this. I’ll let you go when I trust you enough. Take a break from work. You have everything you need here, so just stay and behave.”
Before he could argue further, I walked out, my mood turning from calm to stormy in seconds.
---
BANG! BANG!
Gunfire echoed in the distance, and I ducked behind cover as bullets whizzed past. Mika shouted over the noise, “Masimo, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. These are just scars to me.” My voice was gruff, the adrenaline rushing through my veins. “Let’s end them today. Wipe out the entire cartel. And Mika, if even one of them escapes, I’ll kill you.”
Mika nodded grimly, then took off with a group of soldiers. The battle raged on, but we were prepared. I knew I could trust Mika. Still, we lost many men. Their new weapons were unlike anything we’d encountered before. By the time the last of the cartel fell, half of our soldiers were dead. But we had finished them off.
---
When I returned home, covered in blood, Ian’s eyes widened in horror. “OH MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?”
His voice was frantic, but I smirked, trying to brush it off. “Calm down, it’s just a cut.”
“Masimo, there’s nothing funny about this! Take off your shirt. Now.”
"Who’s being horny now?" I teased, raising an eyebrow, but Ian shot me a death glare that left no room for jokes.
I peeled off my blood-soaked shirt, watching as his expression shifted from shock to concern. He grabbed the first aid kit and sat beside me on the bed, his hands trembling slightly as he cleaned the wound. I kept trying to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he ignored me, focused on patching me up.
“Turn to my side,” he instructed, his voice soft but firm. I obeyed.
As he bandaged me up, I couldn’t help but stare at him the concentration on his face, the way his lips pressed into a thin line. It was like he was a million miles away, lost in thought. But then, suddenly, his eyes met mine. We locked gazes, neither of us willing to look away. It was like a silent competition, and in that moment, the world outside faded.
His eyes flickered to my lips, and I knew he felt it too, the tension, the pull between us. I leaned in, our faces just inches apart, the air thick with anticipation.
Just as our lips were about to meet, a knock shattered the moment. Ian jumped up, fumbling with the first aid kit. I cursed under my breath. Whoever was at the door was about to regret interrupting.
---
"Max has agreed to talk," the guard informed me.
I nodded, pushing the earlier moment with Ian to the back of my mind. "I’ll be there in a minute."
Turning to Ian, I winked. "I’ll be back in an hour. Wait for me. We’ll have lunch together."
---
I sat across from Max, the cartel leader, my knife glinting in the dim light. His eyes were wild with fear as I spoke, my voice cold. “You’re going to tell me who supplied the weapons, or I’m going to skin you alive. You ruined my morning, Max. And that’s something I don’t take lightly.”
Max squirmed in his chair, his voice breaking. “I... I swear I don’t know anything... please don’t—”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. I brought the knife down, peeling a strip of skin from his thigh. His screams filled the room.
“Okay! Okay! I’ll talk!” he sobbed. “But promise me... promise me you won’t kill me after I tell you!”
I leaned forward, my voice low and dangerous. “Choose wisely, Max. I don’t have time for games.”
“It was... it was Mal... Malcolm,” he gasped.
I didn’t wait to hear more. I pulled the trigger, silencing him for good.
Malcolm. He’d crossed a line. And now, he was going to pay.