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)
“Those things could describe any cartel man. You, for example, shot my father right after smiling at me,” Nero said, walking past the arch overgrown by vines, which partially obscured its peeling surface. A massive pile of trash and junk lay behind the entryway, spread wide like mold taking over this long-neglected place. They hadn’t yet reached any of the attractions visible from afar, but the state of what they’d so far seen proved that even if the closure had been meant as temporary, it had long become permanent.
Miguel’s stomach dropped. Was the talk about his smile a prelude to Nero demanding that Miguel makes good on his bet? Miguel had smiled at Nero only because he didn’t think he’d survive long enough to kneel in front of Nero, lower his pants and put his mouth on—
A deep shudder went through Miguel, spreading an icy sensation until he squirmed. Would Nero try to force things? The thought alone made his hands and feet colder than usual.
“I just wanted—It doesn’t matter. Pay attention. Anything could be hiding here,” he said to change the topic as they passed a large lot, which in the past must have served as a parking area. A single vehicle was left, but its rusty carcass wasn’t going anywhere without wheels and with a tree growing out of its open hood. Small plants had sprouted around it, creating an eerie picture of wispy branches reaching for the sky.
“What did you want to do when you smiled? Tease me one last time?” Nero asked, heading straight for the congregation of uncanny structures.
Only a handful of them were tall, including the Ferris wheel, and the modest coaster wrapped around a tower-like structure. They could hopefully find a place to sleep in one of the small buildings sprouting around the rides. It was a landscape of steel and rust, in colors that appeared quite vivid in the glow of the flashlight, but which would look faded come morning. Miguel would much rather spend the night in the woods than among statues of creepy clowns, surrounded by remnants of a once-thriving Funland, but the night was already upon them, and there was no point in trying to find someplace better.
The statues and rotting wooden cut outs watching him with dead eyes weren't as terrifying as the burning question thrown in Miguel’s face now that Nero decided to speak to him again. Because how was he to explain his motivations now, when reality had turned on its head?
Back at Raul Moreno’s villa, Miguel had had this romantic idea that the smile might show Nero what they could have been in a world that didn’t pit them against each other. That despite his righteous anger and grief, Nero would briefly understand that Miguel really, really liked him. That their connection was true, even if Miguel was to go down in a storm of bullets seconds later. He wanted to leave Nero with good memories of him, or at least as good as they could get, given their impossible situation.
But Nero, ever the wild card, did the unthinkable and sided with Miguel over his father’s men. Which now left Miguel in this weird purgatory, where he couldn't take that smile back. He’d come out about being gay in a fit of rage and now floated in an ocean of uncertainty, trapped on a raft with the one man who could either save him or push his head under the waves.
Miguel swallowed, trying to put the storm in his head into words. “I wanted to—”
He fell forward with a yelp accompanied by a racket sounding suspiciously like metal containers smashing together.
“Miguel?” Nero asked, and the flashlight in his hand revealed… a tripwire stretched across the path between the parking lot and the fairground. With glass bottles and cans attached, it was obviously meant to alert whoever might be occupying the amusement park.
Blood drained from Miguel’s face, and he rose, wiping his hands on his pants and ready to fight. Just as he was reaching for his holster, they heard several guns having their safety taken off.
He raised his hands and inched in front of Nero, but it was hard to say where in front of was if someone managed to creep up on them and aim at their backs. “We got lost,” he said, searching for eyes in the darkness. “We mean no harm.”
A male voice came from between the remnants of ticket booths ahead. “No one gets lost here. People come here because they run.”
Just as Miguel exhaled with relief, convinced he’d located the source of danger, a branch broke under someone’s weight to Miguel’s side too, suggesting they were being surrounded.
Nero remained still, casting the glow of the flashlight on the trap and the tips of his sneakers as fog rose around them in the faintest of wisps. “Everyone runs sometimes.”