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)
Next to him, Nero gave a soft exhale, moving his orange sneaker closer to Miguel’s boot, almost as if he wanted to bid him a discreet goodbye. “They have a bazooka. And machine guns. It’s over.”
Miguel’s chest filled with anger, but when he glanced toward the far-off shore, a single bullet pierced the side of their boat and stifled his hopes. If they didn’t do what Cano wanted, they’d be sinking faster than the small boat they’d originally borrowed. A part of Miguel wanted to take that gamble and at least attempt to save them, but Nero was right. The projectile that had just hit the boat had likely come from a sniper rifle, and if they made an attempt to escape on the river, they’d be sitting ducks.
Miguel showed Nero the gun in his hand, using the gunwale to keep it hidden from prying eyes. “They will torture us. We could end it now. Choice is yours.”
Nero’s eyes were the color of the sun-kissed water as he glanced Miguel’s way and wiped sweat off his forehead. “No. Maybe there’s room for negotiation. I’m ready to die, but I won’t be killing myself.”
Miguel swallowed, nodding. He would not jump ship and leave Nero alone with this, but despite the upcoming horrors, he felt relief over not having to put a bullet in Nero’s head. He’d do it as an act of mercy, but if it were up to him, he would have preferred to go first and never have to see the mischievous flicker of life in Nero’s eyes die.
He then raised his hand and used the controls to propel the vessel toward the Caiman herd.
He nudged Nero’s shoe with his in the growing puddle of water, but once they reached the shore, there would be no room for any more tenderness. No last kiss.
He should have let Nero touch him last night instead of backing away like a coward.
In the shadow of the trees, Cano and Ramiro stood side by side, surrounded by five more men, who all pointed their guns at Miguel and Nero’s heads. At least the bazooka had been lowered and now rested against one of the vehicles.
At Cano’s silent command, two of the men moved to the edge of the water to intercept the boat as soon as it hit the shore. So the Caimans already had a new leader.
Nero’s foot moved on top of Miguel’s and squashed his toes. “I liked having you with me.”
Miguel stared into his eyes, uncaring that he should be assessing all the guns pointed at them instead, but as always in times like this, his voice got stuck in his throat, refusing to help him communicate the depth of his feelings.
When he’d first met Nero Moreno, he’d considered him a stupid piece of shit, a slutty party boy who revelled in violence. Most of all, he considered him loyal to the Caimans and no better than his father. But he could see now that Nero had sharpened his teeth to keep the other reptiles from taking chunks from his flesh. It hadn’t been a moral or noble choice, but Miguel had done the same. In their world, you either bit back, or perished.
“I liked dancing with you,” Miguel whispered, berating himself for saying such a trivial thing when their lives were on the line. Could he really not come up with anything more meaningful in their last moment alone?
The boat hit the shore, screeching against sand.
Nero’s Adam’s apple rolled up and down his neck as he continued staring at Miguel with those incredibly green eyes, which stood out against his dark complexion so beautifully. “Me too,” he whispered before raising his hands and leaping to the shore.
Their adventure was over, and Miguel would have to live with all his regrets for the rest of his, undoubtedly short and painful, existence.
“Nero Moreno. And what was all that running for, huh?” asked Cano, patting one of the guns attached to the harness he wore over a tight black T-shirt.
Nero’s bright green head tipped to the side. “Considering what I did to my father, I figured you might not be so courteous when we met next time.”
Miguel bit his tongue, because his whole being wanted to yell about this being a lie, and to tell anyone who cared to listen that he had been the one to kill The Cannibal, not Nero. But Nero always had a plan up his sleeve, so he shut his mouth, not wanting to disrupt whatever was coming.
Cano sighed and put his hands on his hips. “It’s all very unfortunate, but we both know you still hold all the important cards, Mr. Moreno. We will work with you, even if it’s so far proven to be a pain.”
What cards? Was Miguel missing something or was it just Nero’s birthright that mattered like in some medieval story? Cartels hardly cared about that kind of thing, and there would be no succession by a man who couldn’t keep the business in a tight grip.