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)
They were on the outskirts of the city, and since it was Saturday, lots of people were out in bars and restaurants, leading a normal life, separate from Miguel’s dreary existence. There were moments when he envied them and imagined what could have been, had he not been born to parents who had decided to take on the Moreno Cartel out of pride.
But that was in the past, and he couldn’t swap the cards he’d been dealt.
So he did his best to clear his head and focused on the road as they passed a hospital, a car dealership, and shops in two-storey buildings glued together like puzzle pieces that did not form a coherent picture. He was close to reaching a state of not-thinking when Nero shifted next to him.
“Fuck... don’t feel so good.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you took drugs on the job,” Miguel said through gritted teeth, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel. They still had two hours to go before they reached the drop-off point and handed the children to Raul’s next middleman. They were here in the first place only because someone else had gotten cold feet, but the luxury of backing out wouldn’t be afforded to Raul’s son. And definitely not to his bodyguard.
“Oh come on, you wanted to join me, so get off that high horse,” Nero mumbled as they drove toward tall apartment buildings looming above the well-lit street like monsters spotted with square bright eyes.
“Fine, I’m scum like you. Happy?” Miguel growled and honked in annoyance when the vehicle in front of them stopped in the middle of the road to let a friend out of their car.
Nero made a dull sound, as if he were about to puke, but he fortunately managed to keep it down. “Thanks Miguel. Let’s be scum together,” he said, and balled his hand for a fist bump.
But then his gaze moved across the street where passers-by were illuminated by fairy lights draped between tree crowns. “No… no… gotta go now,” he said and left the truck before leaping through the traffic, even though there was a construction site on their side of the road, and nobody would have seen Nero emptying his stomach if he hid behind the van rather than running toward people. This was what drugs did to people.
“Fuck!” Miguel raised his hands to the sky, but hit the emergency lights button and left the van at lightning speed. He’d drag Nero back to the van if need be. “I don’t care if you puke in the fucking car! Someone will clean—”
He waited for a motorbike to pass and rushed across the road, searching the busy sidewalk for the flash of neon hair. He opened his mouth once he spotted the man who was the bane of his existence, only to freeze in horror when he recognized the dark green uniforms of two police officers standing right next to him.
Nero bent in half and released a flood of liquid on their shoes.
Time stopped, and Miguel stilled like a deer stuck on the rail tracks while a train sped its way. It was obvious he’d be hit. The question was—how much would surviving the clash cost?
A couple of people noticed the scene and hurried away, not wanting to witness the upcoming altercation, others passed by, blissfully unaware of the explosion about to set off right next to them.
A shootout in a place this busy could cost many lives.
Miguel raised his hand, and time was back to normal as he rushed over, out of breath when he realized both he and Nero had their unlawful lives etched into flesh. “I’m sorry for my friend! His wife left him and he had way too much to drink. You understand—”
But then Nero had to make matters worse. He stumbled forward and grabbed the front of the policeman’s uniform with his wet hand.
Disgust twisted the tanned face of the cop, but instead of blowing up, he raised his hands and met Miguel’s eyes. He was young. Very young. And so was his partner, who covered her mouth, tensing up in an effort not to laugh.
“What the hell? Didn’t he have a tree to do that under?”
It was not the response Miguel expected from someone wearing a big bulletproof vest and a gun at their hip. But then again those two officers were rookies. Practically babies and should have been out with someone more experienced. Maybe the universe served Miguel’s lemons with plenty of sugar after all?
Nero coughed and wiped his mouth, mumbling an apology.
The dark-eyed cop’s face flushed as he gritted his teeth, glancing toward his companion, and the cogs in Miguel’s brain spun at hyper speed when he realized that this man itched to make a good impression on her. Maybe this was a card for Miguel to play?