Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
That and the greedy way Nero sucked on his balls and drank his cum.
Not that long ago, they’d been able to see the bare mountains and dry flatland on either side of the road, but the night had obscured the landscape until just the small towns they were passing through seemed to exist. It struck Nero that without the views of the natural scenery beyond the bounds of manmade structures, the scenery had little in terms of character. Anywhere in the world, the main roads were more or less similar, as were buildings, and streetlights, and all that other shit. If that was the case, why not run farther? Why stay on this continent?
Would Miguel be willing to go to Europe or Asia, far away from the elusive Mother he hadn’t bothered to get in touch with since Father’s death? She sounded toxic as fuck, but he couldn’t say that to a momma’s boy like Miguel. And while Nero was far from normal himself, he sure as hell knew no mother should put their child on a murder quest with no regard for their safety or happiness.
Miguel was the one at the wheel, but Nero was already gearing up to suggest it was high time for him to take over. Fatigue was just an excuse so Nero didn’t have to tell Miguel he was a terrible driver, because that would have hurt his pride for no good reason. His performance had been fine on the highway but once they entered an urban area, Nero would much prefer to be the one in charge of the car.
He glanced at Miguel's profile, lit by the passing lights. Could he spend more time with this man? He’d made Miguel being his boyfriend into an ongoing joke, but what would it really be like to belong with someone who didn’t see him as a speck of dirt that couldn’t be removed from one’s favorite shirt?
“How about we stop there and explore our options tomorrow?” Miguel pulled him out of thoughts by pointing somewhere ahead, where a colorful neon illuminated a billboard so ragged it had to be at least ten years old. The poster mounted on it advertised a three-storey hotel.
The building was drab, with cracked pink plaster covering balconies leading into individual rooms, but it still looked quite modern when compared to some of the small structures they’d passed a few minutes ago. The road Nero and Miguel had been following since leaving Ecuador entered a town, or at least a local hub with shops packed on either side.
“Yeah, why not,” Nero said, and Miguel pulled into a parking area filled with gravel.
“This way we can both get a drink,” Miguel said and smiled a little, as if they weren’t reaching the end of their trip without an idea what was to happen next.
Then again, what if Nero felt anxious for no reason while Miguel was perfectly happy to go with the flow and would have laughed at him dedicating so much thought to their situation. Sentimental as he was, maybe for Miguel they were as good as married?
Nero rolled his eyes just thinking about it. Married. He was fooling himself and would be lucky to keep the gold bracelet as a reminder of their time together. He’d gotten used to its presence by now and only removed it for washing. And always got Miguel to lock it on his wrist afterward, just because it felt good, like being given a gift all over again.
Once they left their belongings in the small rented room, they climbed the walkway above the road, which for some reason was painted neon orange, and headed to the bar on the other side.
The place was nothing special. It did smell nice, of fried dough, but after grabbing a bottle of rum and some roasted chicken, they climbed the stairs to sit on the roof terrace. A canopy was stretched above their heads, now unnecessary due to the lack of sunlight, though its supports were fitted with lamps, providing a pleasant ambient glow.
When they sat at a table that offered a view of the highway, Nero was glad that while the rock music blowing from a single speaker didn’t quite mute the roar of cars, it managed to mask it enough. He’d had enough of the traffic.
Miguel leaned back in the white plastic chair and poured them both a glass of rum each. “This is it. Lima. Do you think The Axe will follow us here with Cano gone? Would he give a shit or focus on holding on to power?”
Nero looked around, but they were alone on the terrace, so he relaxed, biting into the earthy meat of the chicken thigh as he chewed on his thoughts.
He knew Cano hadn’t killed him when he had the chance only because his brain held secrets that couldn’t be extracted with blunt force. Meeting Miguel’s gaze, he dipped his food in the sauce it came with and wondered what would happen if Miguel knew, and how he’d react if someone else told him. He’d proved himself loyal, but a guy could kiss and suck a man countless times without getting to own him.