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)
When they arrived here, he’d been lying to himself that things had changed. That this wasn’t the end of the line for him, because Nero still needed protection. And maybe, if the sharp-toothed smiles offered him were honest, the man who’d become Miguel’s reason for existing would never want him gone.
The absolute humiliation at the bar proved how inadequate he was. The flaw he’d been carrying inside wouldn’t let him be the man Nero needed, and while it had pushed him to fulfill his destiny and kill Raul Moreno, it also prevented him from connecting with others like a normal person. The hopes he’d harbored were worth nothing, because how could he offer his heart to anyone if he’d been hollow in the first place.
Nero would move on to someone fun, someone without baggage so heavy it would end up crushing them both. Someone who hadn’t murdered his father. Someone who wasn’t afraid of giving him oral sex.
He was a failure.
A sob tore out of Miguel when he thought that even at the end of his days, he would stain this perfectly good grave with his dirty blood. Its owners didn’t deserve having to deal with his corpse, but putting an end to things here was still preferable to doing so in a place less remote.
The gun weighed down his hand as he thought back to all the people he’d killed. Several Caimans had died at his hand just last week, but throughout the course of his miserable existence he’d taken countless other lives. What was another one?
He was like a fishing net discarded into the ocean and floating without purpose Worse even, he’d tangled around Nero and would eventually suffocate him, so it was time to cut the nasty piece of rope digging into Nero’s neck.
This world had no place for people like him. With reality as dark as the sky above him, and as cold as the slab of cement he sat on, he pressed the gun to his chin.
“Miguel!”
The sharp cry came from a distance, and for a moment he wondered whether it hadn’t been the wind, but then his name was repeated, and as he looked down the slope, toward the town, he spotted a moving light.
Miguel clenched his teeth, unable to fight the sorrow in his chest. Since passing through the gates of this place, he’d considered himself dead, but how was he to pull the trigger now? Nero wasn’t supposed to be here and see him take his last breath. He was supposed to go on with his life, mildly annoyed after being abandoned yet deep down relieved that the past would no longer drag behind him in the form of a man who couldn’t satisfy him.
If Miguel shot himself now, he’d leave Nero to deal with his body.
Caught in this conundrum, he did nothing, just held the gun in place as tears streaked down his cheeks. He couldn’t even kill himself right.
“I know you’re here, you bastard! You think you can just walk out on me? Think again,” Nero hollered, ever louder.
Miguel could try to hide, but Nero would find him eventually, so why fight the tide of this stubborn man’s will?
At least the cloak of darkness offered him the time to compose himself.
His phone rang, giving away his location, and a desperate yell tore from his chest when Nero’s footsteps sped up.
“Go away!”
“I see you, you dumb fuck,” Nero shouted, rushing up the main alley. It was a hopeless situation, and Miguel could only avoid the upcoming confrontation if he blew his brains out before Nero reached him.
Nero had seen enough death in his life to cope with this. And if he saw Miguel go, maybe he’d be truly free. But Miguel’s finger was frozen on the trigger. His pathetic, needy heart still hoped to be saved.
Soon enough, he could hear Nero’s stomping, then his breath, and then, a white light illuminated him as if this was an interrogation.
Nero shut up.
Miguel’s Adam’s apple pushed against the muzzle of the gun when he swallowed, overcome by violent tremors deep in the chest. “Go away, Nero,” he said, swallowing another sob. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“Says who?” Nero asked, and while his flashlight remained on Miguel, its brightness illuminated him too.
“Me. I can see it. You’re restless. I brought you to safety, so now go find your future,” Miguel choked out as Nero’s form blurred in front of him, but he didn’t have the strength to keep up the stoic facade any longer. Nero needed to see what a mess Miguel had been inside all along. Maybe then he would turn on his heel and leave him where he belonged. Among the dead.
“I have no future,” Nero said, taking the slowest step forward.
Miguel sent him a sad smile and sniffed. “You do. You’ll get a tattoo shop and find yourself a fun guy who has hopes and dreams, who doesn’t have so much blood on his hands, and who doesn’t crumble over sucking dick. What worth do I have if I can’t even satisfy the man I love?” He pressed the gun under his jaw with another sob, wanting this torment to end yet unable to pull the trigger.