Chapter 21
Diesel
“S o basically, after the internship ended, Vito offered me the job, and I took it,” Shay-Lee said, then popped another fried dumpling into his mouth and chewed it cheerfully.
Watching him speak so enthusiastically about his job for the last thirty minutes warmed my heart, and I could have spent ten more hours doing just that. Somehow, from fighting in the street and rubbing salt on each other’s open wounds, we found ourselves on a date in a small restaurant in some side alley in the market. Well, calling this shed a restaurant was a stretch, and so was calling this a date , considering Shay-Lee’s declaration about this being a pity meal over dumping my ass in the ocean yesterday. But it didn’t matter because whatever this was, it was fun. As much as I missed his ass and dick, I mostly missed this. Us . I missed just speaking to one another over food and drinks, listening to what the other had to say. While I was sexually attracted to Llorón when we first met at the club, what made me fall for him wasn’t the sex but the connection we managed to build through hours of talking to one another. I’d never met a person I was so comfortable opening up to like I did with Shay-Lee, and for the last five years, I’d lacked this. I’d lacked the ability to be with him and share how my day went. Sitting here with him now was a bittersweet moment because while it warmed my fucking heart, it also reminded me of how lonely I’d actually been.
“Hey,” I scowled at him after he’d just kicked my leg under the table. “What was that for?”
“You were dozing off,” he said before taking a sip from his drink and putting it aside. “Were you even listening to a word I said?”
“Of course I was.”
His lips stretched into a big smile, and for a moment, I was blinded by his beauty. He was so damn gorgeous, like the sun after an eclipse.
“So you and Vito are getting along?” I asked him to prove that I had listened to every word.
“Yeah, we are. He’s a funny man unless it comes to fashion. Then he’s lethal.”
The nice lady who runs this place returned with our main dishes and placed them on the table before leaving us alone. While I ordered vegan fried rice that came inside a sliced pineapple, Shay-Lee ordered tom yum soup that smelled amazing.
“That fashion show you mentioned… You know, what you spoke about earlier. When is it going to take place?” I asked after taking a bite from my rice. Fuck . It was to die for.
“It starts in June and will be in Italy. Isn’t it awesome?”
Putting my fork aside for a second, I nodded. “Fuck yeah. I bet your show is going to be the best.” Ready to dive back into my food, I noticed the feeble blush that crept to his cheeks. This small, barely there reaction made me bite my lip with adoration because I knew Shay-Lee didn’t actually know how to take a compliment. He was a cocky brat, yet somehow, genuine compliments turned him into this cute, bashful boy that stole away my heart.
“I doubt it…” He rubbed the back of his nape before glancing up at me. “But enough about me.” He chuckled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… Where the fuck are your smokes? ”
“Gone.”
“No fucking way.” He slumped back in his chair. “Did you actually quit?”
“Yep.” I moved a hand over my jaw, thinking back on the first few weeks after quitting. “And it sucked. Still does, by the way.”
Shay-Lee found my suffering amusing because he laughed. “To be fair, I never thought you’d quit.” He bit his lip. “It was kinda hot, you know?”
“Now you’re saying it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you wouldn’t marry me if I didn’t quit.”
“Huh?” His forehead creased as he stared back at me with confusion.
Putting my elbows on the table, I leaned closer. “That was your only condition. Don’t you remember?”
His eyes widened before he gasped and pushed back from his chair. “Oh fuck, I did, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
“And you took me seriously?”
“Fuck yeah.” I huffed. “I want to marry you.”
Shay-Lee tried to hold back a laugh before he shook his head and went back to his food.
“To be clear,” I said after taking another bite from my rice. “I am going to marry you.”
Snorting into his bowl of soup, he glanced up. “At least swallow first.”
“I always do.” I smirked, and he rolled his eyes before his lips pulled into a devilish smile.
“Tell me, Camilo, do you ever give up?”
“ Fuck .” I groaned. “I love it when you say my name.”
Shay-Lee grunted with frustration before his smile slipped, and he had to cover it up with eating.
While I knew Shay-Lee didn’t remember the last week before his attack, including the attack itself, I was fucking grateful he remembered me proposing to him. He might still pretend to have thrown away my necklace, but soon enough, he’d stop doing that, too.
“Why did you delete all of your social media?” I asked after a few minutes passed with neither of us speaking.
“Didn’t want to deal with all the hate.”
“Hate?”
Putting his spoon aside, he cleaned his lips with a napkin before returning my concerned stare. “Yeah, you know, all those people who said shit about me.”
I had zero idea what people he was referring to, so I stayed quiet. He sighed.
“There’s a lot of people who think I made the whole thing up and that I lied about my dad abusing me to get my hands on his money.”
Startled by his words, I hardened my stare, and he seemed surprised.
“Wait, don’t tell me you’re unaware of all those conspiracy theories that we plotted to kill my father and run away with his money?” The way he said it, with a hint of a smile and amusement in his eyes, was brutal. It was brutal because I knew it was just a mask to cover up how much this shit hurt him, and of course it did. His dad made him go through hell for years, and when Shay-Lee finally had the courage to open up and speak about it, there were people who dared to doubt his words. What the fuck?
“Well, we did plan on running away, but for a whole other reason,” he said with a chuckle before grabbing his drink.
“Whoever thinks that you lied is a sick fuck.”
Shay-Lee stopped with the glass in his hand before giving me a pitiful smile. “I honestly don’t care anymore, Camilo.” He then averted his eyes away from me. “Sure, some stuff hurt, like when someone took photos of me in the psychiatric unit and spread them online or when some lady poured iced coffee in my face because she thought I was a lying cocksucker who hurt his father’s legacy.” He snorted.
My insides coiled while listening to him.
“But I learned to live with it. I really did,” he said, snapping me back.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” I hissed, my fingers curling into tight fists as my blood boiled with anger. If I ever came across someone with the audacity to even hint Shay-Lee wasn’t telling the truth, I would split their head open—
“Hey.” He placed his hand on mine. “Don’t get angry,” he said, forcing me to relax my fist before he laced our fingers together.
I relaxed at his soft touch, but the thought of not being there to protect him made my insides coil. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
Shay-Lee’s stare slipped to our joined hands before he smiled to himself. “You know, I don’t blame people for not believing me. My dad really didn’t look like the type to… you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Looking up, he dropped the smile. “Like the type to rape his kid.”
Hearing him say it to me out loud, probably for the first time, made my guts clench, and I felt sick. Sick to my stomach with anger. Pure wrath over what that bastard did to him. I thought killing that man would help me get rid of some of it, but it didn’t.
“Rapists are scum, and it doesn’t matter if they’re wearing a suit or a stained tank top, they all deserve the same fate.”
Taken aback, he narrowed his eyes at me. “And that is?”
“Death.”
Shay-Lee stayed quiet, and so I went on. “What matters is that he’s gone now, Shay-Lee.” Because I butchered him alive. “He was a fucking monster, and you shouldn’t waste your time on him.” I am a monster, too, though.
Silence stretched between us, and for a change, it felt extremely uncomfortable. Not knowing what he was thinking didn’t help ease my anxiety, which only grew bigger after he moved his hand from mine.
“Was he, though? A monster, that is.” With his eyes focused on his empty glass, he circled the rim. “Or was I the problem all along?”
The fact he was still doubting himself not only broke my heart but infuriated me. Christian W. Rogers was nothing if not a demon. A demon who deserved to be burned in hell, and Shay-Lee should never doubt that simple fact.
“Don’t you dare think that,” I said, grabbing his attention back. “He was an evil man, and the world is a better place without him.”
Shay-Lee didn’t bother to say a word and instead huffed. Why? I had no fucking idea, and it bothered me to my core. Yet, before I could ask him what he was thinking, he’d already changed the subject, saying he wanted ice cream for dessert. Knowing him as well as I did, I knew pushing more on the subject wouldn’t be any good. The second his walls came up, it was impossible to break them down by force. Therefore, I bit my tongue and accepted that I’d have to be patient until he opened up again.
Shay-Lee
“Are you positive you know where we’re going?” I asked, nudging Camilo’s shoulder as we strolled down the street. It was a lot less busy, which made sense because most of the booths that were open earlier now stood closed.
Half turning to look at me, he nodded. “Yeah, I parked my scooter by the shore, not far from here.”
“Scooter?” I snorted with a raised brow.
“ Sí, Llorón, un scooter. ”
Camilo wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close like it was the most natural thing to do. For a moment, one could mistake us for a couple on vacation, only we weren’t because I was engaged to someone else. Someone who was probably worried sick because it had been hours since I walked away from him in a fit of rage. And despite knowing all of that, right now, with the twilight-kissed sky and Camilo’s arm hanging around me, I couldn’t care less.
“Didn’t they have a motorcycle for rent?”
“I wish,” Camilo said while chewing his gum. “Although, it’s a cute scooter. You’ll like it.”
“We’ll see.” Pursing my lips, I leaned my head against him and closed my eyes while he continued to lead us. Being this close to him was so damn comforting, and I wished those last four years weren’t standing between us because this could have been our freaking honeymoon. The sound of his phone buzzing ruined the moment, and Camilo stopped walking to pull it out.
“Who’s that?” I asked after he shoved the device back in his pocket.
“A wrong number.” He smiled at me, then poked my nose. “Didn’t you want ice cream?”
The way he changed the subject made me suspect he was hiding something, but I let it slide. “I did, but I better get back to the hotel. It’s already late, and I bet Jordan’s worried.”
Camilo spat out his gum and muttered the word “pussy” under his breath.
“Stop being an ass.”
“How could I not?” He dropped his hand from around me. “You just mentioned his name, and it ruined my fantastic mood.”
Shrugging, I shook my head. “Well, you gotta live with it while I’m still with him.”
The way his brows rose made me realize what I’d just said, yet before I could take it back, he’d already put me on the spot.
“ Disculpe senor , did you just say while you’re still with him?”
Since I’d already admitted to myself that I held feelings for Camilo, to say the least , it was only reasonable to assume things with Jordan wouldn’t continue to go as planned. Just look at today. I went on this vacation hoping it would put distance between Camilo and me, and now, we were walking and hugging in the street after spending the whole afternoon together. Not to mention what we did last night and long before that. Denying I wanted him was pointless, and at the end of the day, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, we couldn’t just be around each other without something happening. Camilo and I were a force meant to be, and ignoring it was fucking impossible. Sure, there were times of frustration in which I believed nothing good could ever come out from us, but that was bullshit. Pure rage I turned into stupid words out of spite and hurt.
But despite thinking that, I preferred not to say anything that would make Camilo get ahead of himself. He still had a shit-ton of things to tell me, and despite the perfect afternoon we’d shared, I was still damn pissed about him for leaving. So, instead of telling him my thoughts, I huffed and started walking again.
“It was a slip of the tongue. Now, hurry up and get me back to the resort. I need a hot, long bath.”
“How about I join you?”
“You can dream about it,” I chuckled when suddenly, a terrible stench caught my attention and made me scrunch up my nose.
Fuck, that smell is nasty.
Looking to my right, I saw a small fish shop on the other side of the street, right across from us. Two guys were unloading fish remains into a truck, which explained the rotten smell. Inside the store, a man with a sharp knife was chopping fish like he was practicing for the Olympics. The way he lifted and swung the knife in the air before bringing it down with full force on the poor fish made me linger on him, and fascinated, I continued to look. Each time the sharp knife sliced the fish meat, I shrank with amusement.
Yikes .
It got boring quickly enough, and I started walking again. “On second thought, maybe I’ll send you a picture from that bath.” I decided to tease Camilo a bit more. “You know, just to get you hard,” I joked and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Did you hear me?” I whined, turning to look at him when I saw he stayed rooted to the ground in front of the fish store. Did he also find it fascinating?
“Camilo, get your ass over here. I told you I need to go back,” I grunted, irritated because he was probably trying to earn more time.
Asshole .
But as seconds passed and he still didn’t so much as move a muscle, I realized something was wrong. “Camilo?” I asked and stepped closer, my heart beating faster when I noticed the hollow look in his eyes. I reached for his hand, but he didn’t respond, and I saw he was shaking. Literally shaking . Unsure of what was happening, I pushed my nerves aside and came to stand in front of him. “Camilo?” I placed my palm against his cheek. He was sweating, like, really sweating , and his breathing turned heavier by the second.
“My heart.” He fisted his shirt in his hand.
“What about it?” I panicked when he took a step back and lost balance. Moving fast, I caught him before he could crash to the ground.
“Hold on to me.” With one hand grabbing his hips, I brought his arm to rest around my shoulder. His body was on fire, and he was sweating like a dog at the same time he was shivering as if we were in deep snow. With a strained swallow, I held him tighter. Camilo literally slung over me, hardly able to keep himself on his legs.
By this point, he was uncontrollably shaking, and despite what he’d just murmured about having a heart attack, I suspected he was going through a panic attack. What triggered it? I had no fucking clue, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it, as my sole priority was helping him.
“Take long breaths, okay?” I told him while slowly leading him out of the street and into a back alley that gave us some privacy. Once we were alone, I helped him to sit down on the pavement with his back against the wall.
“Take long breaths, Camilo. It will all be over soon,” I said, crouching before him.
Putting my hands on his shoulders, I softly caressed him. Beads of sweat coated his forehead, and he squeezed his eyes shut while trying to get some air into his lungs. Seeing him this way scared me because he was my unbreakable man, wasn’t he? I quickly dismissed the thought. No one was immune to pain, and clearly, Camilo was going through something.
“Just breathe, mi rey . Everything is going to be fine soon,” I promised him because I knew what a panic attack felt like. I’d had enough of those to know that even though it made you feel like you were seconds away from death, it was only a matter of minutes before it would pass and, with it, all the dark thoughts that came along.
Since it looked like he wasn’t doing any better, I cupped his face in both hands. “ Mi rey, concéntrate en mi voz. ” Since I knew Spanish relaxed him, I used the little I knew. “Just focus on my voice and take a long breath.” My thumbs moved along his hot cheeks, gently stroking his skin as I continued to tell him to take air in and—
“That’s it, let it out slowly.” I smiled nervously while attempting to stay cool. Finally, he stopped heaving and began breathing more calmly. Knowing he was doing better helped me relax, and I moved my hands to the back of his head, my fingers softly running through his buzzed hair and up to where it was longer. Camilo’s eyes shot to mine, and once our gazes locked, I smiled at him. “Are you feeling any better?”
For a split second, the fear in his eyes was so vivid that he seemed utterly lost. I’d seen him hurt before, like that night in the motel after he fought with Andrei, but never like this. Never this mortified, as if he was staring at death itself. Not even when he was on trial and faced life in prison.
“S-shit.” He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to get up, only to plunge back down.
“Easy there,” I warned him with my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stay put. “Don’t get up yet.”
Clearing his throat with a cough, he pushed my hand away. “You said you wanted to go back to the resort.”
“Yeah, but you just had a panic attack— ”
“What?” He frowned but then groaned with pain and leaned his head back against the wall. “Shit, my head hurts.”
“You stay here, okay? I’m going to grab you a bottle of water,” I said, and I did. No more than five minutes later, I was back at his side, sitting next to him, our shoulders touching. I watched him empty one out of the two bottles of water I had bought before giving him the second one.
He was still sweating, but at least his body had stopped shivering. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes before I brushed my hand over his brows to clean some of the sweat away.
“Since when do you have panic attacks?” I asked, my voice calm.
Looking straight ahead, Camilo played with the bottle’s cap. “It’s nothing. Probably just low blood pressure.”
I huffed. “Low blood pressure, my ass, Camilo. I know a panic attack when I see one.”
Since the way he was playing with the bottle drove me crazy, I reached for the damn plastic and snatched it from his hands. “Has it happened before?”
He held still for a moment but then, in a barely there gesture, nodded.
My heart broke.
“Camilo,” I gasped and placed my hand on his knee. “Is it always this intense?”
He brushed a hand over his jaw. “Sometimes, yes. But I never think too much into it.”
“Well, you should.” I nudged closer to him. “Have you thought about going to a therapist?” My suggestion made him snort, and I frowned. “I’m being serious.”
“Not everything can be solved by talking, Llorón.” He sounded irritated, and I moved my hand to take his.
“It helped me.”
“I’m not you.”
“Camilo, you just had a panic attack. What if it happens again when you’re alone? What if you— ”
“Damn it, Shay-Lee, can you just drop it?” he snapped, and I froze because it wasn’t like him to raise his voice at me.
Understanding it was only natural because he was probably still stressed, I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. Only then did I see the redness in his eyes that made me pull him into a tight hug. He crushed into my embrace, not even trying to be subtle before he let loose in my arms. Closing my eyes, I held him harder.
“What have they done to you in those four years?” I asked the question that weighed on my heart. “Just tell me, Camilo. Tell me what happened.” I pressed his head harder to my chest. But he didn’t answer my question; instead, he kept quiet in my arms until the sun went down. Only when the alley turned completely dark did we get up from the ground and walk back to his damn scooter. And while Camilo didn’t say a single word, he did hold my hand the entire time, and maybe that was enough.
“This is a nice scooter,” I said with a faint smile once we reached it. It was parked next to a short wall; behind it was the shore.
“Maybe you should replace your bike with one of these when we’re back home,” I said in an attempt to break the ice. Brushing my hand over the fading color of this junk, I thought about the first time he gave me a ride. Yet, Camilo seemed indifferent to my joke as he pulled out a helmet and handed it to me.
“What about you?” I frowned.
“I don’t need one.”
Pushing the helmet away, I held his stare. “So neither do I.”
His brows pulled close, and he appeared angry for a second before his phone rang again. Just like before, he checked to see who was calling before pocketing his phone. And while it was weird, I shrugged it off.
Instead of getting on the scooter, as I thought he would, Camilo turned his back to it so he now faced the ocean.
“Camilo?” His odd behavior was beginning to scare me.
“I left because of a deal I made with Dion,” he said out of nowhere, forcing my heart to a stop .
“W-what?” I moved to stand beside him.
Camilo turned to look at me, half of his face illuminated by the warm light from the streetlight next to us. “I feared we’d lose the case and that I’d never get out of there. That I’d never be able to protect you… so I asked him for help.” He rubbed his neck, slowly going up to his jaw. “He said he’d get me out of there in exchange for me working for him, so I agreed… thinking it would only be one year. But he tricked me.” Torment followed his words, and he swore under his breath. “One year turned out to be five, and I had no choice but to do exactly as he said because your life was on the line.”
A cold dread gripped me, freezing me in place. “My life?”
He nodded. “That son of a bitch… he swore to kill you if I ever tried to escape… and I knew he’d do it.”
Suddenly, everything fell into place.
“How did he help you out?”
“He gave the defense the videos from the club. The one showing Orson threatening you in the car and the one where they beat me up.”
My blood ran cold at the memory, and I took a minute to think it through.
“And how did he trick you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he hissed, turning his back on me. “What matters is that he did, and I was stupid enough to fall for it.”
“You weren’t stupid, Camilo.” Taking a step closer, I wrapped my arms around his waist. With my cheek pressing to his back, I hugged him tight, and the warmth of his body was like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm. “You were just desperate, and you did what you thought was right at the moment.”
I knew I’d claimed more than once that I didn’t care why he left. I’d stated so bluntly that I’d never forgive him, no matter what the circumstances were, but it turned out that wasn’t true because just now, I forgave him. I forgave him because I knew Dion was nothing but a liar, and therefore, I believed Camilo’s words. But it went further than that. I forgave him because how could I not ?
“So that’s what it was all about? He helped you out in exchange for you working for him?”
Camilo’s body tensed before he took a deep breath. “Yeah. That’s what it was all about.”
Relieved, because now I knew why he’d left, I turned around to face him, tears welling in my eyes. “I was so scared you were disappointed in me because it took me so long to testify in court,” I admitted when he quickly turned around and cupped my face in his palms.
“Of course not.” He held me closer. “You were so brave that day, Llorón. So fucking brave that I couldn’t have been prouder.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, torment in his eyes. “I mean every word.”
It was like a rock had been lifted off my shoulders because it was a worry I’d carried for years and was too ashamed to admit it. After he’d left me, I wondered if it was because it took me so much time to show up in court. I felt like a coward who’d failed us both, but as it turned out, Camilo didn’t think the same way.
Flooded with emotions I’d repressed for so long, I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded.
“Llorón.” He whispered my name like a prayer, and I leaned against his palm.
“So is it over now? Or do you have one more year left?”
“It’s over. He decided to set me free because I saved his life.”
It almost sounded too good to be true.
“So you’re done with him?”
A faint smile pulled on his lips as he moved his palms from my face to hold my hands. “I’m yours for when you’re ready to take me back.”
He’s mine for when I’m ready to take him back.