Chapter 07

137 9 2
                                    

Vegas opened and closed the door violently, scaring his brother who was sitting on the sofa working on his laptop.

— Do you know how to make a door? — Macau asks.

— Don't. — He takes off his shoes and throws them across the room, and the car key follows suit.

— What has bitten him? — Macau asks himself as soon as he hears Vegas slam the bedroom door aggressively. — Jesus... The last time I saw him like that was... I've never seen him like this. — Macau scratches his head and goes back to doing what he was doing before.

Meanwhile, Vegas was destroying everything in his room. He didn't understand why he was feeling so angry, maybe it was because he'd been rejected for the first time in his life, or because he'd been beaten up, something that only happened when his father hit him.

— What a hell. — He picks up the lampshade from the chest of drawers on the right side of his bed and throws it at the huge mirror on the other side of the room, causing it to shatter into pieces. — I should kill him, that's what... I must feel like killing him. — I went over to the table next to the now broken mirror. I open the third drawer and take out one of the guns. — I'm going to dirty the floor you complained so much about. — He puts the gun away in the back of his pants, leaves his room and starts looking for the keys he's thrown into a corner of the room.

— What are you doing? — Macau, who was still sitting on the sofa fiddling with his laptop, asks.

— The keys. — He replies, looking under the sofa. — Damn it, they're in the middle. — He stretches to get them.

— You've only just arrived. — He watches his brother pick up the key. — Where are you going?

— To kill a worm. — Leave the apartment.

— Jesus.

Vegas gets on his motorcycle and speeds out of the building's garage. He didn't care about the many fines he would receive, he just wanted to get there quickly and get rid of that strange feeling. Driving between the vehicles so fast that he looked like a figure to anyone watching from afar. A journey that normally takes twenty minutes, Vegas did in five. Stopping in front of Pete's house, Vegas got off the bike, leaving his helmet on it. Seeing that the gate was locked, he looked around and jumped over the wall with agility — he wasn't that tall, so such an action was like taking candy from a child. Walking slowly to the front door, he turned the handle and to his surprise it was unlocked. Letting out a laugh, Vegas opened the door and entered his victim's house, who would wait patiently for him sitting on the sofa, Vegas was in no hurry.

Hours passed, and when the clock struck half past ten, the gate to Pete's house opened, and a car drove past, Vegas looked out of the window, still sitting on the sofa, and saw Pete getting out of the car and then coming towards the door, Vegas stared at the door patiently, and as soon as Pete passed the door and looked up, he was startled.

— What? — Pete looked at Vegas who was still sitting on the sofa smiling, and that smile was making him afraid.

— Welcome home. — Vegas uncrosses his legs and then gets up, walking slowly over to Pete. — Took you long enough today, darling. — He smiles grimly.

— What are you doing here? — Pete takes a few steps backwards, until his back hits the door that has just closed.

— Why are you running away from me? At the time you took me by surprise, you were thinking you were, but now you're like a scared little mouse.

— Of course I'm scared, you walk into someone else's house out of the blue and you don't want them to be scared. — If Vegas tried anything, he'd get hit again, only this time it would be his bag.

Flowers And Death - VegasPete (English Version)Where stories live. Discover now