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)
“Chill out, it’s not like you’re the one sucking his dick,” Ezra whispered before finishing his beer and reaching for another one from the cooler.
Dr. Zapata hung the IV bag on a coat hook above the row of white leather seats where Miguel had been resting since the start of this journey. “I’m not judging anyone’s life choices, but people who have many partners often need STI treatment. Protection is necessary,” he said, watching Miguel with watery eyes.
What was he saying? That Nero was a slut? That he was dirty? That he could pass something on to Miguel?
The artificial lemony aroma of the air freshener suddenly provoked nausea.
Miguel squinted at the doc. “Is he HIV positive?”
Ezra laughed like an overgrown baboon. “See? He does care!”
Miguel shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He uses rubbers. I’ve had the doubtful pleasure of hearing all about it.”
Dr. Zapata’s white, bushy eyebrows lowered. “I’m not at liberty to say anything about my patient’s health. I just recommend condoms as a precaution against all kinds of STIs,” he said and attached Miguel’s arm to the IV pack before releasing the slow stream of liquid that would, hopefully, relieve Miguel of headache, nausea, and the sour dryness in his mouth.
Ezra smirked. “Looks like you talk a lot about his slutty—”
“Will you shut your fucking face?” Miguel snapped as anger turned his brain into vapor.
Carlos cackled from the driver’s seat. “You’re in love already? Don’t worry, it’s not like he kills all his lovers once he’s done with them.”
Ezra spread his arms with a mocking smirk. “You might lose your job though.”
Miguel closed his eyes and counted to five. “Why are we still discussing this? I’m not fucking him, I’m not in love with him, and I don’t even like him.”
The silence made him hope that he finally got his point across, but then a familiar voice sent a shudder down his back.
“That’s cold, Miguel, especially considering all of last night.”
He opened his eyes a bit too abruptly and cold sweat covered his back. Had he just fucked up his chance of meeting Raul Moreno by letting the Correas goad him?
“Sorry, it’s complicated.” Hopefully, it would be an answer to appease everyone and the leather would stop sizzling under him like a hot griddle.
In truth, after Nero saved them both from having to go through with the trafficking job, they had done many things that resulted in him starting to like Nero a little. In whatever capacity his strange mix of lust and anger could be called liking.
“You’re the first man to ever call fucking complicated,” Nero said in an even tone, but didn’t look Miguel’s way as he stepped into the car and rolled back into the seats installed across from Miguel’s own spot.
Miguel averted his gaze with a scowl, unhappy with this turn of events yet acknowledging Nero’s right to humiliate him back. He might die in a matter of hours, so what did it matter whether the Correas believed he was gay or not? He felt bad about Nero overhearing him, but if he tried to apologize or explain himself, the situation would get even more awkward, especially with three other men listening on out of boredom.
“I’ll be in the front,” Ezra said and left the vehicle, scurrying around the car to reach the passenger seat next to the driver.
“Let’s go. Time is money,” Nero said and reattached the IV bag to his arm before resting on the seats with both legs hanging on one side, and placed a baseball cap on his face, as if to block out more light than the tinted windows could.
Miguel let his gaze trail along the tattooed arms crossed on his chest and couldn’t miss their tension. One didn’t have to be a mind reader to know he’d fucked up. He could only hope Nero didn’t have a last minute change of heart and decided to keep him away from the boss as some twisted form of punishment.
The doc didn’t speak much either, and the silence stretched like the monotone yet charming landscape around them. The higher they drove uphill, the farther they could see, and a part of Miguel wanted to kick Nero’s sneaker and tell him to have a look at the natural beauty, but that would have been a childish move and could provoke yet more unpleasantness. Nero would have spited him with some lewd comment, like saying that he’d rather watch Miguel’s head bobbing between his legs.
At least the IV was doing its job and gradually returned Miguel to the world of the living. The liquid made him cool down to a point where he ended up having to zip up his jacket, but by the time the vehicle stopped in front of tall steel gates emerging from the woods on the side of the road, he was quite mended. At least the final moments of his life wouldn’t be completely miserable.