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)
Oscar opened the cage with a large key and picked up a chain all the kids were cuffed to before offering it to Miguel after a snide glance at Nero. “There. I’m gonna stay to clean up your mess.”
One of the girls sobbed, and it took all of Miguel’s self-control not to slam his elbow into Oscar’s head and punish him for all the lives he’d ruined. But he was working for the greater good, so he cleared his throat and spoke.
“Get up. You all want to be free from these chains sooner rather than later, right? Let’s get going.” He scowled at Nero who slid down the wall as if they had time for sitting around. “You too. Up.”
Nero stretched and sent him a kiss. “Don’t be so serious, Miguel,” he said before rolling to all fours and approaching him like a cat while the kids waited, already standing like convicts lined up for the firing squad.
“No, you should be more serious. Get up.” The teens weren’t going anywhere, so he dropped the steel leash and grabbed Nero by the arm, pulling him up with force.
Nero did rise, but instead of standing on his own, fell on Miguel with a toothy smile. “You don’t have to do that to be close.”
“Fuck off, all right?” Oscar growled, tugging on his hair, which now looked frizzy, as if anger electrified his mane. “I have a giant mess to deal with!”
Nero scowled, but took a step back before Miguel could have forced him to. “Fine.” He closed his eyes and glanced at the kids as Oscar hurried up the stairs, washing his hands of the whole thing.
Even Nero's closeness now felt disgusting, because with every glance at the kids Miguel's temperature dropped. One day, he'd become the cold-blooded reptile he needed to be. Tonight, he was still human and ached for the little girls despite knowing he’d do whatever it took to get closer to Raul Moreno.
Nero approached one of their prisoners. In the unpleasantly cool light, his reddish brown skin appeared faded, as if this place drained life out of him too. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be back with your parents soon. Just don’t make a fuss.”
Lies. Lies. Lies. All for the sake of an easier job.
Miguel tugged on the chain. He considered saying something about Nero being gay, suggest that he wouldn’t touch them, but what was the point? Even if Nero didn’t do such a thing, soon enough someone would feast on their young flesh, because whatever their purpose was, such things always happened sooner or later.
The children were too scared to put up any resistance, and while some cried, they were all old enough to know pleading would not work in their favor. Each one Miguel loaded into the back of a van prepared for this purpose felt like another piece of humanity leaving his body. Nero, meanwhile, lay on a bench close by and played with his phone, as if they weren’t about to throw young lives into the fire of Raul Moreno’s criminal empire.
Disgust rose to Miguel’s throat like bile, but once he secured all the kids in their seats and locked the chain with a padlock, he shut them in the dark and glared at his boss.
“Let’s get this done.”
Nero licked his spiky teeth and rolled off the bench, but instead of getting into the passenger seat, Nero’s wobbly walk led him head-first into the back door. Miguel exhaled, but when Nero whined like an overgrown toddler and rubbed his face, he grabbed Nero by the arm and led him to the front of the van without much tenderness. He even opened the door for him, and had the dubious pleasure of lifting Nero into the seat.
He did have firm thighs, that was for sure. Not that Miguel should think about it at any point, and especially not after he’d seen the bastard lie to those poor children.
This would be a damn long journey.
Nero slumped in his seat and grabbed a bottle of lemonade from the cupholder. “Let’s just go.”
Miguel didn’t say another word and got in from the driver’s side. Yet another reason why he shouldn’t have considered joining Nero in his drug frenzy, no matter how much he wanted to blur out reality. Someone had to make sure they don’t die while carrying out this fucking job, but he found himself unable to stop thinking about the terrified kids locked up in the back of the van.
He’d not been brought up to be compassionate. His mother had taught him to be effective and to focus on his purpose first, because feelings got people killed. And so he’d stopped feeling. Or at least tried to, because sometimes the core of humanity that was somehow still left in him tried to peek through the darkness in his heart.