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)
Cano made a wild dash to grab the steering wheel, but a blink of an eye later, the car crashed into the cement support of a derelict rail bridge. The airbags erupted, filling the front of the Land Rover like two giant puffer fish, but Cano had been without a seatbelt and his head smashed against the side window.
Breathless, Miguel jumped off the motorbike, letting it drop like a dead weight, and stepped closer, ready to take on anyone standing between him and Nero.
He flinched as the back door opened, and one of the goons poured out with blood all over his face, but the moment of shock did not stop Miguel from putting that dog down with two bullets for good measure.
The dead man dropped to the road like a sack of potatoes, revealing Nero’s body between the seats. His mouth hung open, his eyes closed, but there was color to his face, and his chest moved, so he must have been sedated for real this time. He was alive, which was all that mattered.
They'd talk about what the fuck had happened by the river once Nero was back on his feet.
Miguel swore beneath his breath and looked back at the road leading toward the port. He couldn’t take an unconscious man on the motorcycle, and waiting around until he came back to wasn’t an option either, since Ramiro and the men who accompanied him might appear at any moment. He ran over to the front of the car to check if the Land Rover was still driveable, and opened the passenger seat, revealing Cano’s slumped form.
Blood stained the bald head and trickled to the stubbly cheek, but Miguel was sorry the bastard’s nose hadn’t been broken off during the collision. Treacherous, lying fucker! Nero should have asked Ramiro to swear and cut the promise into his flesh. But this sly bastard had sent his protégé away before Miguel could have come up with that.
He dragged the body out and did the same with the dead driver before examining the hood, which turned out to be in decent shape, likely due to the low speed it had been running at in the moment of the collision.
It passed through his mind that maybe he should put Nero in the seat, but his comfort would be worth nothing if they ended up getting caught, so Miguel pulled out his switchblade and cut the steering wheel airbag to make it deflate.
He froze when something rang, and his gaze moved to the cupholder, where a cell phone faced him, showing the caller’s ID as 67x8, which had to be some kind of code. If Cano really had been so good at finding people as Raul Moreno claimed, then maybe he’d been paranoid about his own security as well. Miguel shook his head and threw the phone at Cano’s dead body, which he’d left at the side of the road. He even got a bit of satisfaction from kicking the fucker’s bald head for good measure.
But this was not the time for revenge on a corpse. Ramiro might be coming after them as soon as he was done greasing palms in town, so Miguel got into the vehicle and reversed before going back on the road. The Land Rover’s fat wheels rolled over one of the meatbags, crushing its bones, but Miguel now only had a single goal—to get away and disappear as fast as possible.
So he drove away, and he’d continue for as long as the gas tank allowed, aiming to get lost by taking random turns. Perhaps he had good instincts, or maybe just luck, but the woods around them became denser the farther he was from where the chase ended. He stopped twice to check up on Nero, but while completely out, he kept breathing, so Miguel shifted the rearview mirror to see him curled up on the floor and drove on despite the engine making the noises of an old man after a tracheotomy.
Two hours later, his mind remained agitated, and his boots were still damp. They were lucky to be alive, but Miguel’s heart was heavy with doubt that tainted the joy of saving Nero.
Until the moment Nero had so eagerly accepted Cano’s offer, it had been them against the world. Had Nero really been waiting for a chance to go back to the life he’d led so far? He could have been bluffing, but then why send Miguel away? He’d have no chance fighting the Caiman goons on his own, as this whole ordeal had proven. Nero Moreno had always been this crazy guy, bold and indestructible, yet now he lay limp, vulnerable and dependent on Miguel for safety. It felt unnatural, and prompted Miguel to kiss each tattooed knuckle on those rough hands during one of the short stops. Their lives could be snatched away at any point, and while being dismissed after getting so close last night had hurt, Miguel was determined not to hold a grudge.