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)
Right now, with Miguel so close? “Yes.”
Miguel leaned in for a surprise kiss that sweetened the mess from minutes ago. “Good. This is a good place to lay low. Listen, I… I don’t remember if I locked the car. I’ll come back in a bit, okay?” His fingers slipped out of Nero’s grasp.
Nero sighed and pointed to the paper plate. “The chicken’s almost cold. Be quick,” he said and picked up another piece. He was certain the car thing was only an excuse for Miguel to have a few minutes to calm himself, but he wasn’t about to call him out on it.
Miguel nodded, but before walking off he gave Nero one more kiss, as if he wanted to make up for the blowjob failure. His shoulders were stiff as he disappeared down the stairs, leaving Nero with a cooling chicken, nasty rum, and a ball of frustration in his chest.
Nero dropped his elbows to the table and rubbed his face with a low growl. He should have kept his fucking mouth shut. Miguel had issues. So what? So did Nero, yet they worked so well together.
Frighteningly well.
With a deep sigh, Nero poured himself another glass of rum and watched the sky, which was completely overcast. If there were any stars up there, he couldn’t see them.
He took a sip. Then another. And another, until the glass was empty.
He slammed it down, making metal jingle.
Nero frowned and glared at the car keys resting close to the ashtray before glancing across the street, to their old SUV. Miguel wasn’t there, nor on the orange walkway, and his wallet rested next to the plate of cold roast chicken, like a piece of trash he’d chosen to leave behind.
Why would he so persistently question how Nero felt about his safety, just to leave right after? A bad feeling settled in Nero’s stomach, but he couldn’t put his finger on why that final exchange left such a bitter aftertaste.
He reached for the bottle to pour himself more rum and stalled when he saw his left wrist.
His protective bracelet was still there, but the golden one? Gone.
In a burst of panic, he looked around, only to remember that it had been there when he and Miguel held hands earlier. Had he… taken it?
What. The. Fuck. Did that mean?
That whatever they’d shared was over? Couldn’t Miguel say his goodbyes like a normal person? All this drama over a fucking blowjob?
Miguel would be so fucking sorry for this cowardice once Nero got to him.
Frantic, he circled the table and grabbed his phone, opening the app that would allow him to find Miguel’s location.
He froze, confused when he spotted the tiny dot moving down the street and then turning toward an area marked as a cemetery. What kind of emo move was—
No.
“No no no no no no!” Nero stared at the dot, putting his feet in motion.
That was why he’d asked if Nero was safe! He wanted to… do what he hadn’t at Father’s villa. He wanted to find an empty grave and shoot himself in the head, just like he’d once dramatically told Nero.
Had he intended to do this all the time they’d been together? To leave Nero without a goodbye once he’d fulfilled his promise?
Nero’s hands shook by the time he sprinted into the street and ran with a silent scream in his throat.
Chapter 24
Miguel
The cemetery was a bit of a disappointment, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Miguel used to imagine that once he avenged his family, he’d find someplace to hide the shame of being the sole survivor of the massacre. But how was he to find a hole deep enough in the dark valley packed with concrete tombs in all colors of the rainbow? Arranged along twisted alleyways, many had spaces for several people, and while the vaults came in different shapes and sizes, when Miguel stood in the open gate and illuminated the main path through the grounds, he felt as if he was about to enter a massive yet eerily quiet town.
The cool, white glow of his phone flashlight guided him uphill, past structures, some taller than him, designed to hold bodies above ground. As he walked farther from the gate, where the slope became steeper, rows of graves stood on terraces of dirt and brick, like tiny homes that would last the silent inhabitants of this necropolis for an eternity.
He walked for over ten minutes, and once he spotted a terrace where a tomb stood empty, he switched off his flashlight before resting on top of it. The lights of the town, and the broad road leading into Lima made the cemetery pitch dark in contrast, and he swallowed hard, squeezing his hand on the golden bracelet he’d decided to take off Nero, to have something of his at the very end.