Chapter 13
Shay-Lee
“I s this where you live?” I asked as we got inside one of those manual elevators with collapsible metal doors that you had to close yourself.
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” My brows pulled close at hearing the suspicious sounds coming from the elevator as it rode up.
“Yes, Shay-Lee. I’m sure this is where I live.”
“So you live in a dump.”
The elevator stopped, and I was ready for it to crash down when Camilo opened the doors.
“Stop being a bitch.”
“I’m simply stating the obvious,” I huffed while getting out of the elevator into the walkway. On one side, you had the building, while on the other, the open air with nothing but a cheap railing to stop you from falling down to the street. This place looked abandoned, and it wasn’t like the location was good enough to make up for the crappy building. We were literally in the middle of an old industrial area. Seriously, what was his real estate agent thinking?
“This looks like an abandoned warehouse. ”
He snorted and then pulled a set of keys out. “Better than a Beverly Hills mansion.”
Rolling my eyes, I followed him as we walked toward a big, red metal door. “It’s only temporary until my house is ready.”
“You mean yours and Jordan’s ?” he sneered while unlocking the several locks he had on, then opened the door and waited for me to step in first.
“Yeah, exactly.” I passed him when something ran between my legs, and I jumped back into Camilo’s arms. “Holy shit, was that a rat?” I gasped, still holding on to him for dear life and stepping on his shoes just so this filth wouldn’t touch me. Camilo burst out laughing, and frowning, I got off his feet to see him bending down to lift up a—
“A cat?”
“His name’s Toro.” Camilo brought the gray furball to his face and kissed its nose.
It was somehow charming, and trying to get over the embarrassment that a mere cat nearly gave me a heart attack, I straightened my shirt and walked inside the house.
“You truly are a scaredy-cat, aren’t you?” he laughed while closing the door behind us.
“No.” I lifted up my chin. “I was just caught off guard by this little—” Turning around, Camilo was holding the puss right in my face. To be honest, it was adorable.
Lifting my gaze from the cat to Camilo, I eyed him. “Is he a boy?”
“Yep.” He kissed him again and put him on the floor. “My baby boy.”
Ugh . I almost forgot how adorable Camilo was with animals.
Get over yourself, Shay-Lee. He’s still a pig.
“Fine. Whatever. Get inside the shower so I can get out of this ugly place.” I scrunched up my nose. “I already smell mold.” That was a lie, and just like in the past, Camilo had managed to turn this dump into a place that was all him—plants, an old record player, his clothes hung on a metal rack, and so many pairs of sneakers that were organized in wooden boxes. I remember he managed to make the small apartment we’d lived in for a while into a home, too, just like he did this place.
“You’re the one who insisted on escorting me here,” he said.
“Well, yeah. I wanted to make sure you didn’t suddenly pass out.” I bit on my lip. “It doesn’t mean I want to spend time in here.”
Camilo laughed. “Fine. I’ll shower fast so you can leave.”
“Good.”
With that, he went inside what I assumed was his bathroom, leaving me alone.
I sat on a stool by his kitchen island and told myself I shouldn’t snoop around. And yet, one minute in, my curiosity was already nipping at my ass, and I decided to only slightly search around his place.
Excited, I first went over his clothes. I flipped through them, impressed with his taste as I always had been, and stopped on a vintage Adidas hoodie I wanted to steal for myself. I loved wearing his clothes . Still hearing the water running, I figured I had more time, so I moved on to his shelves. Of course he’d have little jars of homemade ointment and baby plants all over the place. It was Camilo, after all. That guy loved his plants and vegan crap. After opening one of the jars and applying a bit of cream to my hands, I spotted an empty packet of cherry-flavored gum, and it got me thinking. This place didn’t smell of cigarettes, and neither did he. Could it be that he quit?
Still rubbing my palms together, I looked down at the floor to see his stupid cat. “What do you want?” I snarled before trying to shoo him with my leg. Only he didn’t get the memo and instead continued to rub against me. “You probably think you’re so cute, don’t you?” I bit the inside of my cheek, then picked him up. What did he say the cat’s name was? Ah, Toro . “It’s so him to name you a bull .” I chuckled because that was the meaning of Toro’s name in Spanish—bull. Camilo was always great with names, and I loved the ones he pinned me with. Smiling, I thought back on the first time he’d imprinted me with the name Llorón. A crybaby. His crybaby . To this day, the sound of him calling me that filled my chest with nothing but warmth. Realizing I was now hugging the cat while thinking about Camilo like a boy with a crush, I put the cat down and continued with my search mission.
While the bedsheets were tucked in, Camilo’s clothes were tossed all over it. Walking over there, I grabbed his shirt. It was baggy and fuzzy and smelled so much like him. Unable to resist myself, I buried my face in it, imagining being wrapped in his embrace. I knew it was wrong and unfair to Jordan and myself , so after hugging the shirt close to my chest, I dropped it back on the bed. Ready to move on, Toro decided to jump onto the bed, too. Unsure if he was allowed on it, I tried grabbing him.
“Come here, you useless fuzz,” I said, stretching my arm, but the idiot only moved farther up the bed until I had no choice but to climb on it. “Come here!” I lunged forward, falling face-first on the pillow.
Fuck .
Toro seemed to be a jerk just like his daddy because instead of getting off the bed, he moved to sit on my back. “You little shit—what the hell?” I paused when I felt something hard underneath my head. Sliding my fingers under the pillow, I tensed as I touched the cold handle of a gun. I quickly let go before moving the pillow aside to see it was, indeed, a gun .
I glanced over my shoulder, checking that Camilo wasn’t out yet, then back at the weapon. My palms turned sweaty, and my throat dried while I kept staring at it.
Why the fuck would he have a gun under his pillow?
My hand trembled as I sent it forward, and I hesitated before picking up the gun. I had never held one in my life before; it was much heavier than I’d ever imagined it to be. Putting my other hand underneath the barrel, I examined it properly. It reminded me of Orson, who’d once threatened me by shoving the muzzle into my mouth. It also made me think back on Rosa. I might not have remembered anything from that horrid night of my attack, but I knew she was shot in the head from what they’d told me. But above all, staring at this killing machine made me face the questions I tried so hard to avoid.
In the four long years Camilo had worked for Dion, did he ever use one of these? Had he shot someone? I knew for a fact someone shot him, considering what happened with Soren, but… Did he ever do it himself, and mostly, had he ever taken a man’s life? If he had, would I care? Probably not. No, definitely not, and yet, my stomach hurt with those thoughts. I wanted to put the gun back where I found it when—
“What are you doing?” Camilo asked, his tone aggressive.
Ignoring his question, I turned to look at him. He was half-naked, with a towel knotted around his hips while water dripped down his impressive body. Not letting it distract me, I held his stare.
“Why do you have a gun?” I bit back, brows furrowed as I still held on to the weapon.
“Put it down, Shay-Lee.” His jaw twitched. “Right. Now.”
Not liking to be ordered around, I raised one brow. “Or what?” Deciding to joke, I lifted the gun so now it was aimed at him. “Because the way it looks to me, you’re not in the position to bark orders, asshole .”
Camilo’s eyes widened, but he didn’t budge and instead fisted his palms. “For God’s sake, Shay-Lee. It’s fucking loaded.”
W-what?
Struck by his words, I released my hold on the grip and jerked back while the gun fell onto the mattress. Camilo immediately moved toward me, grabbed the gun, and unloaded it. A Golden bullet fell onto the white sheets, making it even clearer how close this was. My heart was beating like crazy at the same time coldness spread through me.
I just aimed a fucking loaded gun at his face.
Moving closer to me on the bed, Camilo grabbed my shoulders. “Hey,” he whispered while giving me a little shake. “Shay-Lee.”
Unable to breathe properly, I looked at him with wide eyes. What if, by mistake, I had shot him and he’d died right in front of me? All those thoughts were silenced the second he pulled me into a hug and my head was nestled in his chest. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his tight embrace, allowing him to consume me.
“It’s okay, Llorón.” He kissed the top of my head while stroking my hair. “You didn’t know it was loaded.”
Despite the tears choking my throat, I spoke. “Why do you keep a loaded gun under your pillow?”
He held me tighter. “Just in case.”
Pulling back, I frowned at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Instead of answering, Camilo pressed his lips together in a pitiful smile. What the hell did he do with his life that he needed to sleep with a loaded gun under his pillow? It broke my heart even more than it was already broken, and I hated him for ruining his life.
“Shay-Lee.” He placed his hand against my jaw.
Biting my lip, I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Was it worth it?” I hissed.
“What?”
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Whatever it was that you tossed your life away for. Was it worth it?”
Pain crossed his eyes before he broke our stare and looked between us.
The same rage that hit me whenever he refused to speak up simmered through my veins, and furious, I pushed him to his back. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?” I shouted, climbing on top of him. “You’ve always been one.” I hit him. “Even back then. You always did shit without thinking it through.” Hit. “You were willing to kill Dion and risk it all just to avenge Iván!”
Camilo flinched at the mention of his brother, but he still didn’t push me away and instead stayed still. With tears streaming down my face, I tried to ease my breath. They were tears of frustration and anger. But mostly, I cried for all the things we’d lost. “You tossed everything in the garbage, and you can’t even be honest and tell me what it was for.”
Until now, I’d lied over and over, claiming not to care for what he had to say in his defense, but it was all bullshit. Of course I wanted to know what made him leave. I yearned for the truth almost as much as I yearned for his love, but it changed nothing. My emotions meant nothing because Camilo wasn’t about to speak. His silence was stark on his face, and even now, as I was breaking down, he didn’t say a word, instead accepting everything I was throwing at him.
I hated this.
I hated him for doing this to us.
“Llorón,” he whispered, seizing the pause I took to calm down. “I know I’ve hurt you.” He pushed a strand of hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. “I know I did the one thing I promised not to and left, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”
With my bottom lip trembling, I glanced down at him, my tears falling over his face. He seemed to be genuine, but I believed him then, too.
“But what if someone breaks in here and kills you?” My jaw clenched. “What if you go to jail again? What then?” As he didn’t answer, my eyes traveled down his body until I noticed another new tattoo. It was much smaller than the one on his neck and located right on his heart.
“Do you even love me, Camilo?” I asked, pressing my finger to the name inked on his chest.
Covering my hand with his, he pressed it harder. “That’s a stupid question, and you know it.”
I could feel his heart pounding underneath my touch, and even though I believed his words, it wasn’t enough.
“And yet, you’ve never said it to me. Not even once.” Slipping my hand from underneath his touch, I got up from the bed, leaving him there.
Sniffing, I wiped away my tears and tried to freshen up while he moved to stand behind me. Wrapping his hands around my body, he tried hugging me again. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t lean into it either. Camilo could write my name on every part of his body, but it would still not be enough to convince me to trust him again.
“Just so you know, I did love you.” My voice shuddered ever so slightly as I spoke. “I loved you enough to face my worst fears, and yet, you can’t even bear telling me the simple truth.”
“The truth comes at a price, Shay-Lee.”
Still not turning to look at him, I snorted. “I guess we already paid enough, then. Didn’t we?”
With that, I broke his hug and walked out of his apartment. My body hurt as if I were the one to get hit by a car. And even though I wished the cause for my pain was that simple, it wasn’t. Instead, what hurt me to the point I wanted to cry and never stop was the realization that I still loved this man so much that it ruined me. Even now, I was willing to die for him while he couldn’t even be honest. Not just with me but with himself. Just like I’d told Blaire, our love had no end. I didn’t mean it romantically, but in a tragic sense. Together, we’d burn each other down until there would be nothing left to love.
After checking myself in the rearview mirror to ensure I looked decent enough, I got out of my car. I cried the whole ride here, and seeing that Jordan was home, I didn’t want to risk him suspecting something was off.
I wasn’t surprised when he greeted me before the front door even closed behind me. Accepting me with wide arms and a warm smile, Jordan hugged me as if my heart wasn’t beating for another man.
“I bought something for you,” he said, taking my hand and making me follow him to the living room.
He asked me to sit and wait while he went back to get something. A movie was playing in the background, but I was too distracted to hear a word. My head was a mess, and now, on top of all the crap that went on with Camilo, I had to sink into guilt for dragging Jordan into another mess. He barely got out of it with his life the first time, yet he still returned to me. How selfish could I be?
“Hey,” he said, and I looked up as he came back to sit beside me. “Is everything okay, babe?”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”
“Is it your ankles? Do they hurt?” he asked while already lifting my legs up and resting my feet on his lap. Ever since my injury, my legs hadn’t fully recovered, and I still suffered from pain once in a while.
He began massaging my ankles when I noticed the bag he’d brought back with him. “What’s that?” I asked, cocking my head in its direction.
Jordan cleared his throat before he removed his hands from my feet and reached for the bag. Moving a hand over his buzzed head, he then handed it to me.
My brows rose in surprise when I looked inside the bag at the pink lingerie set he’d bought me.
“The other night, it seemed like you liked it.” He swallowed hard. “And I thought… maybe we should try it again. I mean, if dressing up makes you feel good.” A small blush crept to his tawny cheeks, making this moment feel so criminally innocent that it left me stunned.
There was something so simple about Jordan that it made me believe that despite how I still felt toward Camilo, if I tried hard enough, I might just be able to move on.
Putting the bag down on the floor, I moved to sit in his lap. “Why don’t we get out of here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him.
“What do you mean?” He smiled, his fingers moving along my spine.
I shrugged. “Let’s just get on a plane and go someplace.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
Anywhere that will be far enough from him .