Chapter 8
Shay-Lee
I checked myself over in the mirror one last time before I was ready to go. My hair was pulled back so it wouldn’t get into my eyes, while the rest sat loosely over my shoulders. I picked a dark gray suit with an open black blouse underneath that showed most of my chest and the body chain I had on. Embedded with diamonds, the expensive jewelry was made from thin chains wrapped around my neck and chest. I looked sexy as fuck, and I knew it. After all, Camilo would need something to drool over tonight, as I doubted my choice of a restaurant would give him much of an appetite.
I picked up my wallet from the counter and was ready to leave when the door to the house opened and Jordan walked in. He was dressed in his workout clothes, which made sense because he’d just come back from his boxing gym. Jordan was hooked on that sport. Whenever he wasn’t at school, he was there, sweating his ass off, although—
“You’re back late,” I said while putting on my watch, which I’d nearly forgotten about.
“I sat down with Dylan for a coffee after the practice. ”
“Dylan?” I asked while he placed his bag on the floor and came to check me out. “Lately, you two have been meeting all the time.”
Wrapping his hands around my waist, he pulled me close until we were pressed to each other. “We just talk about stuff,” he chuckled, then bit his full bottom lip. “But if I knew you’d be here dressed like this, I would have ditched him.”
I kissed his cheek. “Nah. I’m glad you’ve made a new friend.” Dylan was a guy Jordan worked out with. They met a couple of weeks ago and seemed to be getting along.
“When will I get to meet him?” I patted his chest, then walked back so the scent of his sweat wouldn’t mix with my cologne.
“He’s almost always working, so how about you join us in the gym sometime?”
I snorted while checking myself in the mirror one last time, just in case. “As if. Boxing is so boring.” I brushed a hand over my right brow, then checked my hair. Maybe I should pull it into a bun? After all, Camilo said it was sexy. My heart stopped, and I jerked up. Did I want to look sexy for Camilo or because I wanted to annoy him?
“Not as much as yoga,” Jordan said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“You’d be surprised.” My lips curved up while thinking back on my last class and the nonsense that disrupted it. “Anyway, I better go, or I’ll be late.”
“Where are you going all dolled up, and can I join?” he asked while looking at me with his ocean eyes.
Since the day he came to visit me at the hospital after my attack, Jordan had showered me with nothing but love and kindness. I was grateful for him being in my life, and yet, instead of answering his question with the truth that I knew would hurt him, I flashed him a big smile.
“A few friends from work are going to a fashion show, which I know you hate.” I walked toward him and placed my hands on his wide shoulders. “That’s why I didn’t invite you, but don’t worry.” I leaned forward and pressed our lips together in a short kiss. “I’ll be back home quickly. ”
Cupping the back of my head, he pulled me into another kiss, which was more intrusive, with how he slipped his tongue inside my mouth and took a good taste before letting me go.
“I’ll stay awake and wait.”
“Good.”
“You’re late,” Camilo said as I tossed my Bugatti’s key to the valet and strolled up the stairs leading to the restaurant.
“I’m never late. You’re just early.”
He snorted, then ran before me to reach the door first and open it for me.
“After you,” he offered, and I checked him out real quick before walking inside.
He looked nice, with a tight wool shirt and baggy jeans that sat low on his hips.
“I have a reservation for two, under the name—”
“Rogers,” the host said with a polite smile on his face—a smile I could see right through. A smile of recognition. And the problem with recognition was that with it came a sickening curiosity to know more about my scandalous life.
Sometimes, I wished nobody knew who I was.
“Shay-Lee?” Camilo snapped my attention, and I realized the host was waiting to take us to our table.
“I hope you’ll love this restaurant,” I told Camilo as we followed the host into a long, dark hall. “It’s one of the best in the country. They make everything here. Even raise their own cows.”
“Cows?” Camilo asked just as we stopped in front of a big door.
“Yeah. For their steaks.” I smiled right before the host pushed the door open, and we entered the main room. Uncooked steaks were hung on hooks on top of the open kitchen, and so were other cutlets and cuts of meat that would shame no carnivores. Glancing at Camilo, I smiled with satisfaction at the horrid look on his paling face as he glared at the fire coming from the open grill, where a few pounds of meat were currently cooking.
Got you, motherfucker.
The host then led us through the fuss of the restaurant into our private room. After all, I needed much privacy for this unwanted dinner.
“Didn’t I mention this is the best steak house in the city?” I asked after we sat down at our table, and I spread a napkin over my lap.
“It must have slipped your mind,” Camilo hissed, his voice rough.
“Oh, shoot. I was sure I had… Are you still vegan?”
He forced a smile. “Still am.”
“My, my, was this an innocent mistake,” I chuckled while taking off my jacket and hanging it on the back of my chair.
Now, it was his turn to check me out. “I bet it was. Same as you deciding to wear the sluttiest outfit in your closet.”
I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my palm. “It’s hardly the sluttiest thing I’ve got in my closet,” I told him in a sweet, low tone that made him bite his lip.
Yeah, baby boy. Daddy’s talking.
He leaned closer. “Just what do you have hung in that closet?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Camilo showed no modesty as he locked eyes with me, his stare boring into the deepest part of my soul. “I’d kill to know.”
Licking my lips, I made the mistake of looking at his neck and that sexy new tattoo. Shit . The room was suddenly a lot hotter, and I pushed back, reminding myself I had to have control over how this evening would turn out to be. Thankfully, just then, our waiter arrived with a cart.
Camilo frowned at the waiter while I clapped my hands with excitement.
“The best part of this place is that before you order, they show you the—”
The waiter lifted the silver covers and flashed us a variety of beautiful, juicy, red cutlets that waited on a silver platter. Camilo’s eyes widened once our waiter stuck a steak fork in one sexy T-bone and presented it to him up close, as I requested.
Watching the color slowly drain from Camilo’s face while the raw meat wiggled in front of his eyes, with all its blood and fat, was absolutely priceless, and I took joy in every second.
“So, how would you like your steak?” the waiter asked.
“Bloody,” I said before averting my eyes from Camilo to the waiter. “Unfortunately, he’s vegan, so he’ll have…” I pursed my lips and glanced at the menu. “What can he have?”
The contrast between my mischievous grin and Camilo’s horrified expression was palpable, enough to make our waiter move uncomfortably as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
“I’m afraid the only things that are vegan in our restaurant are the water and wine, sir.”
“Well, that’s fabulous. He’ll have a glass of wine, then.” I handed the waiter back the menus. “On second thought, could you serve it in a bowl instead?”
Dogs can’t drink from glasses, can they?
“I’m sorry?” the poor man stuttered.
I waved my hand at him. “It was a joke. Just bring a bottle of your finest wine.”
Camilo waited until we were left alone before he spoke. “Are you happy now?”
“Self-satisfied for sure.”
He flashed me a fake smile. “You’re as peachy as I remember.”
“Is that so?”
“Very much, indeed.”
I gave him a cheeky smile. “In that case, I’m glad.”
“You’re such a jerk.”
“And here I thought I was peachy,” I pouted, and he grunted.
Someone came to fill up our wineglasses and then left the bottle in an ice bucket beside our table.
“By the way, if you want to cancel this dinner, we still can,” I said while swirling my drink in the glass to let it breathe just like Soren taught me how to do.
“You think I can’t handle a bit of meat?” he challenged me, one brow raised, then sipped his drink.
Oh, I knew he could handle meat. Especially my own . The dirty thought brought a few pleasant memories, and I shook them away with a question. “So what do you want from me? What’s the point of all this nonsense you’ve been putting me through for the last two weeks?”
Placing down his glass, Camilo leaned back on his chair. “To get you back, of course.”
I snorted while bringing the glass to my lips. “You better give up, then, as it’s never going to happen.”
“You know I’m not the quitting type.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you learned from your past mistakes.”
“How so?”
“The last time you participated in a race out of your league, you ended up in jail.”
Placing his hand on the table, Camilo tapped the surface with his fingers. My connection broke for a moment until he spoke, and my eyes darted to his face.
“Well, I got out of there. Didn’t I?”
“You did.” My throat turned dry with the awful memories that still visited me from time to time, and I took a long gulp from my wine. It was sour and bitter, just like my heart. “And then you ran away.”
“I had my reasons, Shay-Lee.”
Well, that just pissed me off.
“Then enlighten me. What made you leave me, Diesel ?” I asked, my voice dripping with resentment. After all, that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To explain himself. And yet, instead of opening up that stupid mouth of his and spilling out all the juicy information, he sat there with his lips sealed. Annoyed, I leaned closer. “Come on, what are you waiting for? You finally have a chance to justify yourself.” I crossed my heart. “I promise to listen. ”
Looking away, Camilo scratched his jaw. “I had a lot of things to work through, and it took time.”
“Well, that explains everything.” I reached for the bottle to refill my glass. “Now everything makes so much sense.” I slammed the bottle back in the ice bucket, not caring how it splattered everywhere. “You had a lot of things to work through.” Pursing my lips, I nodded at my now full glass. “And I presume working them through while working for Dion was the best way to do it?”
I glanced back at Camilo only to enjoy the confusion forming on his face, followed by anger, as evidenced by how he clenched his jaw.
“What, you thought I didn’t know you worked for him for the last four years? Please .” I rolled my eyes, emptied my glass, and placed it on the table. “I hired private investigators the second I was out of that lunatic institution.” Upon hearing about my father’s alleged death, I went through a mental breakdown, which lasted for half a year, on and off. Soren was by my side to help me get back to my feet. Jordan was there, too. Even Miles was there. Yet, the person I needed the most wasn’t. Instead, he was out playing gangster with the man who killed his brother and who I was certain had a hand in what happened to me. To us . The day I was attacked, they not only ripped my body apart but Camilo’s as well. Despite that, the moment Camilo was out of prison, he didn’t return to me but to that despicable man. He could have chosen between a bright future or the hell he grew up in, and he made his choice. That was why coming back now meant nothing.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I went with Dion because I had no other choice. It was what I had to do at the time,” he said, but I didn’t care to listen, so I turned the other cheek and focused my eyes on the art hung on the restaurant’s walls.
“Shay-Lee, trust me when I say there wasn’t a minute that passed by that you weren’t on my mind.”
I didn’t need to trust him to know it because it was the same for me. Only I wasn’t the one who left. Instead, I waited. Like a hopeful idiot, I waited for him for so long that now, it was too late .
Just then, the waiter returned with our first course. After placing the steak tartare in the middle of the table, he left. Ignoring the food, Camilo bored his stare into me.
“I will do anything for you to forgive me, Llorón. Absolutely anything,” he said, placing the back of his hand on the table.
I glanced at his offered hand, assuming that he hoped I’d take it. If only he knew I’d rather chop off his fingers and feed them to Soren’s dogs than hold his hand.
“Anything?” I brushed the pad of my thumb over my bottom lip as my eyes darted to the beef tartare and then to Camilo.
Noticing it, he swallowed hard before nodding. “Anything.”
“So, how about we play an old game?” I smirked, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. “I’ll answer yours if you’ll answer mine.”
“Sounds good to me—”
“Hold on,” I said, raising my hand. “This time, if one of us refuses a question, they’re forced to take a bite.”
“You’re not actually serious, are you?” He frowned.
“Of course I am, darling. And you know what, I’ll give you the pleasure of going first.” Crossing one leg over the other, I leaned back on the chair and waved my hand at him. “Go on, Diesel , ask me something.”
Irritation danced on his face, and I knew it was because of what I called him. Whenever I used “Diesel” instead of his name, you could literally see his face twisting like he’d taken a bite of something rotten. And while fun, it wasn’t easy, as I had to force myself not to call him by the name that slipped so naturally from my lips.
“Tell me about your job. What do you do?”
“I’m a junior designer at Renieri. Although, I haven’t designed any real collection yet.”
His face lit up. “That’s amazing, Shay-Lee. When did you start?”
“Nah, you had your question. Now, it’s my turn. What did you do for Dion?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And before you tell me you were a bodyguard, don’t. Maybe some other idiot would buy it, but not me.”
Camilo ground his teeth before he lowered his eyes to the beef tartare. Swallowing hard, he grabbed his fork and reached forward.
“Make sure to mix the egg yolk with it,” I said because it would be a disaster if he didn’t have the perfect bite.
The tip of his fork pierced the egg, and the beautiful golden yolk dripped all over the rare meat. Camilo’s lips curled down with repulsion as he put a bit on his fork. He then brought the fork to his mouth, and I noticed how he held his breath. Well, I couldn’t blame him—it didn’t exactly smell like roses. Before taking the bite, he closed his eyes and took a moment. Then, like a good boy, he parted his lips and shoved the food inside his mouth. He didn’t chew and instead immediately swallowed, his lips twisting the whole time.
Gagging, he quickly covered his mouth. “F-fuck,” he muttered, reaching for his wine and emptying his glass.
“How was it?”
“Fuck you,” he hissed, sticking his tongue out and trying to clean the remaining tartare from it.
Yack .
It was amusing, and while it was mean of me, he deserved it. And a lot worse .
“Come on, ask me a question,” I chuckled and enjoyed the pure power I had over him.
“You and that idiot Jordan, since when are you together?” he asked while pouring himself a new glass.
“Almost two years.”
While Jordan had been by my side since the start of my rehabilitation, we hadn’t started dating then. It had taken me time to accept that Camilo was gone and that I should move on. Yet, here I was, four years later, sitting across the table from him .
“And you’re already getting married ?” He frowned.
“When it feels right, why wait?” I answered his question even though it was the second one. “Besides, too soon?” I huffed. “You asked me to marry you after a few months.” My words were like a double-edged sword that hurt us both in the same breath.
Camilo’s face went blank before he broke our eye contact, and I saw the rigidness of his tensed jaw. He didn’t say a word and instead stayed quiet— until he didn’t .
“So you’re in love with him?”
“You’ve already asked a hell of a lot of question—”
“Just answer the damn question, Shay-Lee,” he snapped, slamming his hand on the table.
Have I gone too far?
“And what if I am?” I sneered. “Jealous?”
“Is that your question?” He tilted his head, dark eyes challenging me.
“Sure.”
“Fuck yes, I am,” he growled, unapologetic as always, then leaned closer.
“Good,” I hissed back. My butt lifted off the chair as I leaned forward until we were in each other’s faces, close enough that I could count every new scar that had been added to his handsome face.
“My turn to ask a question,” he said, and my eyes focused on the way his lips moved.
“Ask away.”
“Where’s my necklace?” His eyes locked on my neck.
My temperature rose under his intense stare, and I felt like a gazelle in a hunter’s snare.
I knew immediately what he was talking about—his mother’s necklace. The one he’d given me instead of a ring under the moonlight.
The memory, which was once so precious, had now dissolved into nothing but a bed of thorns stabbing me from the inside out. He needs to suffer just like I have. My lips quirked up into a vengeful smile with the thought.
“Beats me. I tossed it away years ago. ”
Diesel
“Beats me. I tossed it away years ago.”
My nostrils flared at his words, and I immediately jerked back until my shoulders hit the chair. Brat . I knew he was lying through his teeth because there was no chance he’d toss it away. What annoyed me was the fact he was lying about it—the fact he was still putting on this idiotic act.
I knew he was a vengeful little bitch, but feeling his wrath was nothing like I remembered. Now, it wasn’t hot and intoxicating but fucking cold. I hated it. I hated this ice wall he’d built between us and refused to let down.
But you deserve it.
“Can I ask my question now?” He fluttered his eyelashes at me as if he didn’t just crush my heart.
“Do whatever you want.”
“Aww,” he pouted. “Did I hurt your feelings?” He spoke to me like I was some baby, and I scoffed.
“Just ask your damn question, Shay-Lee.”
He licked his lips before smiling like the little devil he was. “Since you haven’t answered my first question, I’ll try my luck again. What did you do for Dion? Have you been upgraded from a mediocre prostitute, or are you still selling your cock to the highest bidder?”
His desperate attempt to get back at me was starting to get on my fucking nerves. Still, I had to hold myself together despite the punches he kept throwing at me, as I had it coming. I couldn’t tell him what I did for Dion because then I’d have to involve him in the crimes I’d committed. And there were many . From breaking people’s bones to chopping off a few fingers when needed, I did a hell of a lot of bad things. I wished I could just lock it all up and toss away the key. But unfortunately, that wasn’t how life worked, and the shit I did would follow me forever. Yet, while I was bound to my crimes, Shay-Lee wasn’t, and over my dead body would I implicate him. After what he’d been through, I’d never risk him getting close to that world ever again. Of course, it all happened because Dion had tricked me into a deal, but that wasn’t something I could tell Shay-Lee about either. I couldn’t just tell him I’d killed his father because it would make him an accomplice to murder. My inability to be honest caused miscommunication between us, but at this point, I dug the hole to my own grave and would have to find a way out of it. The good part was that I had no intention of being drawn into self-pity and instead was determined to find my way out of this grave. Even if it meant clawing my way out and stepping on others’ bodies in the process.
So, without protesting, I took another bite from that hideous thing. The slimy texture, the awful taste, and the raw smell made me gag, but I overcame the strong urge to hurl and swallowed it down my throat. It tasted even worse than the first bite, and my entire body shivered with disgust. Reaching for my glass, I washed down the remaining taste with wine, yet the horrible flavor was still stuck in the back of my throat.
Coughing, I cleaned my mouth, then looked at him. “My turn.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Why didn’t you tell me what he actually did to you?”
My question was followed by a dreadful silence as Shay-Lee finally dropped his smile.
From the day Soren revealed to me that Shay-Lee was sexually abused by his father, the same question had haunted me. Why did he keep it from me? I knew expecting him to reveal such a dark secret was a lot to ask, but the foolish part of me believed we were close enough for him to trust me. Even when we were a couple, he owed me nothing and had every right not to share his secrets, but why he didn’t tell me was what bothered me. Not the fact that he didn’t.
Instead of answering, Shay-Lee’s brows snapped together as a deep crease formed between them.
“Shay-Lee?” I asked, wondering if perhaps this wasn’t the time to bring it up .
“I don’t want to answer this question,” he said while doing everything he could not to look me in the eyes.
“Then take a bite—”
My words were cut off as he pushed the plate forward so violently that all its contents splashed all over me. He then stood abruptly, and I quickly did the same while cleaning some of the food off my body.
“Shay-Lee, wait,” I said after he grabbed his jacket from his chair and turned to leave.
“Fuck off, Diesel.”
Just then, our waiter came with the main courses.
“S-sir?” he asked right before Shay-Lee pulled a pile of bills out of his wallet and slammed it on the table.
“Use the rest as a tip,” he hissed, then dashed out of the private room.
I ran after him, nearly bumping into our confused waiter while I did. Only it wasn’t so easy to catch up with how fast he was running away. Outside of the restaurant, Shay-Lee didn’t stop at the valet to take back his car keys and instead continued to walk down the street. Thankfully, I managed to catch up to him after a little bit.
“Shay-Lee, wait.” Stretching my hand forward, I grabbed his arm, only for him to turn around and snap out of my hold.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” he yelled, his face red.
No one was currently around us, which was good, considering the situation.
Taking a step back to give him room, I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. I’m not touching you,” I said and watched him tensing like a scared little cat. After we both took a short breath to calm down, I spoke again. “Why are you so angry?”
“Why?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re actually asking me why?”
“Yes.” I took a step closer while he didn’t move. “It was just a question.”
“About him!” he yelled, pushing my chest. “You have no right asking about him. About me. About what we had. ”
What they had ? I frowned at his pick of words because he almost made it sound as if his father was some saint who died tragically.
“What are you saying?” I hissed, still unable to understand his rage.
He gave me a frosty look. “That you’re not allowed to bring him up.”
The way his eyes glistened with tears fucked me up because it looked like—
“It almost sounds like you miss him.”
His face took the form of shock before his brows pulled into a deep frown.
“What if I do? Would you judge me for that?” he asked, nothing but pain in his eyes.
His response shocked me so badly that, speechless, I stepped back. Why would he miss that monster? It made no fucking sense. But then again, it didn’t matter if I understood him or not because—
“I’ll never judge you, Shay-Lee,” I said, voice firm as I held his stare. “Never.”
Finally, his mask cracked as he chewed on his bottom lip, allowing a bit of his vulnerability to slip away. I missed it. I missed seeing him with his guard down. But the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived once he cleared his throat and stuck his nose in the air. “Well, whatever.” He swallowed back his tears and sniffed. “You smell so bad that I can’t stand to stay near you.”
I snorted. “Well, someone spilled beef tartare all over me.”
He side-eyed me before passing me on his way back to the restaurant, probably to get his car.
“You deserved it for being annoying.”
“Me? You made me eat raw meat, asshole.”
Turning to look at me over his shoulder, he narrowed his eyes. “Well, you’re the one who said I could choose the restaurant.”
He was about to turn around when I spoke. “By the way, it hasn’t been an hour. ”
“What?” He frowned, and I pulled out my phone to show him the timer I’d started once we sat at our table.
“The agreement was one proper meal that would last at least one hour.” Looking at my screen, I smiled. “So far, only forty-two minutes have passed.”
“So?” he snarled.
“So, you’re going to keep hearing from me, Llorón.”
His lips twisted. “You’re pushing it.”
“Good. I love it when you snap. It’s sexy.”
He huffed. “You’re a hopeless case.”
“Only ’cause you turned me into one.”
Shay-Lee didn’t bother answering me and instead turned around and began walking back to the restaurant. Even though my bike was parked in the same direction, I didn’t join him, staying where I was, with my eyes locked on his back. If tonight had taught me one thing, it was that Shay-Lee had shit-tons of grudges to unleash before he’d ever come close to forgiving me. In addition to some new secrets he was clearly holding on to, like whatever the fuck he felt toward his father. And while the evening had gone off course, my plan still worked, and Shay-Lee’s armor began cracking. Slowly, he was giving in to having me back in his life, even if he claimed otherwise.
I pulled out the pack of gum I had in my pocket and popped a few in my mouth. Chewing on them, I smiled. Thanks to him bringing up our old questioning game, I had a new idea that would also involve going down memory lane. One that would definitely remind my Llorón who owned his ass. Being the feisty kitten that he was, he scratched me with his claws all night. If he thought, even for one second, that I’d let him get away with it, he was about to discover he was wrong. He might have claws, but I had fangs, and I was never the type of hound to bark without bite.