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)
But the death of their fellow Caiman seemed to have only aggravated the other two, and while their motorboat wasn’t as fast as the other one had been, one of the men shot as it gained on them.
“Duck!” Miguel yelled, throwing himself at Nero who couldn’t see the gun pointed straight at his neon head. Nero’s eyes went wide, and while he let Miguel drag him down, he kept holding onto the stern, which caused their boat to tilt so rapidly it almost capsized, but all Miguel could hear was the onslaught of bullets.
With his lungs full of air, Miguel peeked out of the vessel and steadied Nero’s hand so they didn’t end up hitting the shore, but his clothes were getting wet fast, and when he saw water gathering in the bottom of their craft and the holes piercing the hull as if it were Swiss cheese, he knew they were fucked. Still, he refused to give up on their lives, and placed his finger on the trigger when their engine choked.
“Don’t fucking shoot,” roared someone at the top of their lungs as the buzz of the other boat grew louder. Nero stirred under Miguel, opening his eyes before switching off the motor.
“Or what?” he roared back.
Miguel looked up to see one man aiming at them from behind the boat’s windshield while another talked on the phone.
Miguel’s skin felt as if he’d rolled in broken glass. He’d promised to bring Nero to safety, and he would not let it end like this. He rose, all too aware of the water now reaching his ankles.
“Throw the guns into the water!” yelled the man pointing his own firearm their way. “Both of you now! Or we’re letting you two rats sink!”
Miguel hesitated, but when Nero followed the order, so did he. “Are you letting us on, or not?”
The guy at the front grinned, pointing his pistol at Nero’s face. His stubble-covered skin shone with sweat, giving it the appearance of a moldy peach. “Until Mr. Cano decides what to do with you two fags,” he said while his companion finished the call and leaned over to pull the two vessels closer.
Fury erupted in Miguel with new force, obscuring even the fear for Nero’s life. So maybe he was gay, but no other fucker was allowed to feel superior to him just because of liking to stick their dick in pussy.
“We’re the fags? Looks to me like you two are the ones sucking Cano’s dick. You rim him too?”
The man’s round face darkened, his gun hand shook, but as he was about to holler something back, a thick oar swung through the air and knocked the other guy into the water.
Miguel now understood Nero’s goal. They needed a new, better boat, like the one now aligned with their sinking vessel. He wouldn’t mind killing the two goons in the process.
The Caiman lost his cool and shot, but the boat rocked under him, and he missed. Miguel took a leap of faith and boarded the other vessel in a single leap that landed him right on top of the bastard. Wrestling the gun away, he planted his fist in the guy’s nose. Bone gave with a nasty crackle, and Miguel grabbed the goon’s firearm when he dropped it to hold onto his face with a shocked cry.
The rapid thumping from Nero’s side of the boat made Miguel turn, but then fingers dug into his bandaged shoulder, and sudden pain forced Miguel to drop the firearm right where it had been moments before. Fire raged at the back of his eyelids, but the moment of distraction was enough for the goon to gain an advantage and roll them over.
Spit shot at Miguel’s face as the Caiman stared down at him with a scowl that belonged on a demon, but as he raised his fist, tattooed fingers grabbed his face from the back and mercilessly dug into the eyes.
His mouth opened like a gate to hell. Yellowed teeth—one missing, one chipped, one growing in the wrong direction—framed a wagging tongue covered by the dark sheen of blood dripping from a cut in his cheek as the man howled in agony.
“Step back!” Miguel yelled, and when Nero pulled away, letting go of the Caiman’s head, he grabbed the gun and shot straight into the pit of madness the goon had for a mouth.
A damp head appeared above the gunwale, but Miguel sent the other Caiman straight to hell, along with his friend.
“Fuck, they’re here,” Nero whispered, and when Miguel looked up, three black cars stood between the trees on the nearby shore, with men crowding in front of them like a wall of faceless shadows.
Anger burned Miguel’s chest, and he glanced across the broad waters, to the woods at the other shore, but just as he moved to the controls at the front, a series of bullets flew above their heads, prompting him to dip.