Chapter 26

Shay-Lee

"Put this on," Diesel said as he handed me his helmet and climbed on the motorcycle. Still processing everything that was happening, I looked down at the helmet. Even though puking did help a bit, I was still far from being sober. Added to the shock from how Diesel was treating me, I was a bit overwhelmed. I mean, after getting back from the shore and getting his phone, he even made sure to bring me a bottle of water, which he'd forced me to finish.

"What about you?" I asked once I realized there wasn't another helmet.

"I'll be fine."

The half smile he offered me formed a lump in my throat. Swallowing hard, I put on the helmet, then looked back, ensuring nobody noticed us.

"Don't worry," Diesel said, almost like he understood my fear. "We weren't followed."

Nodding, I was ready to climb behind him when he stopped me. Taking off his jacket, he gave it to me. "It's going to be cold."

Tracing the jacket with my fingers, I considered if I should wear it for a moment. What about him? Wouldn't he get cold, too? After all, he'd be getting most of the wind.

"I don't have all night," he grunted before turning on the engine.

"Shut up."

After putting the jacket on, which was too big but I liked it anyway, I climbed behind him. As a car guy, I'd never actually got to ride a motorcycle before, so I didn't know what to expect. Looking around, I tried to think where to place my hands until I settled for his shoulders while making sure to keep a fair distance from him.

Diesel snorted, and I frowned.

"What?" I snarled.

"You'll fall off this way."

"No, I won't."

He snorted again.

With a heavy sigh, I moved down the seat until my body was pressed against his. "Better?"

Instead of answering me, he unfolded his arms and grabbed my hands, bringing them forward and crossing them around his waist. "Hold on to me properly, or you'll fall off. Got that, Princesa?"

My nostrils flared as my cheeks heated up. "Don't call me that," I bit back.

Laughing, he shook his head, then hit the gas, sending us forward in a flash. Startled, I instantly hugged him tighter and held on to his body for dear life. The motorcycle sped up in seconds, racing down the road leading outside the house property. I didn't realize how suffocated I had felt until we passed the main gate and the dozens of paparazzi waiting beside it. Only once we were far enough and got on the highway did I feel like I could breathe again.

Diesel maneuvered between cars, increasing speed until the world blurred around us. My heartbeat quickly replaced the sounds of the wind, the road, and the engine of the bike as the adrenaline kicked in. I soon understood what he meant when he told me about the need to push the limits and rush down an open road until you crash. The risk of touching death was liberating, forcing me to remember that I was still alive.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tightened my hold around Diesel's warm body. His firm abs and strong muscles turned him into my shield, one that kept me safe from the world. Like an anchor, he was there, driving us through the night, giving me something to hold on to. And I liked it. I liked the feeling of comfort, even if it felt like a dream.

"Shay-Lee."

Opening my eyes, I realized we'd arrived. So peaceful, I didn't even notice the ride was over.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I pushed away from him and got off the bike. Taking the helmet off, I looked at the five-story building we parked in front of.

"Where are we?" I asked, knowing very well this wasn't their house because last semester, Jordan and I broke into their place in search of dirt on Andrei. To be fair, it was all my idea, considering how Jordan just followed my lead.

"A friend's house. Sometimes I crash here."

My eyes shot to his. "A friend? What kind of a friend?" There was no fucking way I'd be spending the night at his friend's house. Probably some slutty whore he met at the club while working there.

"Calm down, will you?" Diesel grunted, giving the back of my head a slight smack. "It's not that kind of a friend."

Clearing my throat, I followed him into the building. "What makes you think I'm not calm?"

"Your face."

"My face?" I snorted as we stopped in front of the elevator.

"Yes." He turned to look at me. "Your face."

The elevator arrived, and we stepped in. Diesel pushed the button for the fifth floor, and the doors slid closed.

"What about my face?"

"Everything is written on it."

"Bullshit."

He laughed, making me press my lips together and bite the inside of my cheek to hold back from telling him to fuck off.

Reaching the fifth floor, the doors opened, and he stepped out with me following behind. It was a relatively new building, and it seemed like the floor only had two apartments in it.

"So what kind of a friend is it, then?"

"Would you be quiet?" He grunted as we stopped before the door, and he pulled out a key chain from his pocket.

"Has anyone ever told you how rude you are?"

He ignored me, unlocked the door, and walked inside the apartment. Crossing my arms over my chest, I huffed. Ready to tell him what an asshole he was and that I'd rather drown in the ocean than spend another minute with him, I barged in. Yet, before I could open my mouth and say a word, we were greeted by his friend.

"Didn't know you were stopping by."

Oh, shit.

"Yeah, it was sort of a last-minute call," Diesel said, scratching the back of his head.

His friend had dark blond hair that was almost as long as mine and wore a stupidly big smile as he made small talk with Diesel. I instantly recognized him as the one I'd run into when Jordan and I broke into the house Diesel lived in a few months ago. We were seconds away from getting caught, so without thinking twice, I faced him and lied my way to earn his trust.

Standing behind Diesel like a complete idiot, I had the tiniest shred of hope that this man, Kai, might not remember me. Unfortunately, recognition crossed his face the second our eyes met.

"Hey," he said, his smile growing even bigger. "What a surprise seeing you again. How are you?"

Diesel's eyes snapped to mine, his brows pinched close, and his forehead creased, obviously trying to figure out how we knew each other. Pushing his reaction aside, I stepped forward. "I'm good. Kai, right?"

"Yeah." He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pocket. "You still haven't visited my restaurant."

Rubbing the back of my head, I glanced at the floor, feeling Diesel's deadly stare digging into me. "Yeah… been busy."

"Well, I had no idea you two were also friends."

"Can we stay here tonight?" Diesel asked, ignoring Kai's comments.

Darting his eyes between us, Kai nodded and grabbed his keys from the counter. "Yeah, sure. I was going to spend the night with Ash anyway. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Kai was almost out of the door when Diesel called after him.

"What is it, man?" Kai asked.

"Can you not tell Chief about this?"

Kai's eyes darted to me before returning to Diesel, a sympathetic look on his face. "Yeah, of course." The corner of his mouth curved into a naughty smile. "Whatever you do, don't do it in my kitchen."

I would have laughed, but as soon as the door closed behind Kai and we were left alone, Diesel charged at me, slamming me against the wall.

"Do I want to know how you two know each other?"

"Depends." I smiled. "How angry are you from one to ten?"

From the way his nostrils flared, I'd go with ten.

"Speak."

Playing with my fingers, I shrugged. "To be fair, you already know I'm crazy—"

"Shay-Lee."

"Okay, okay." Pursing my lips together, I tried to think of a way to tell him how I broke into their house without making it sound too bad. Turns out, there was no way of doing that.

"You broke into our house?" he snapped once I had finished telling him the story in a roundabout way.

"You make it sound way worse than it actually was."

Tilting his head, he frowned. "The fuck are you on about? You broke into our house. Who the fuck does that?" He stepped back so I was no longer caged between him and the wall.

Blowing some air out, I rubbed my nape. "I'm sorry, okay? If it helps, I truly am sorry for everything I did to you and your friends."

Diesel said nothing as he walked around the room, his arms crossed over his chest until he stopped. "So Kai caught you there? Why didn't he say anything?"

"I just told him some lie about me and Andrei being fuck buddies, and he bought it." I shrugged, giving Diesel a slight smile. It wasn't my fault I was a great liar.

Diesel's eyes widened as his jaw twitched. "And did you? Fuck Andrei?"

"Hell no," I snapped back, shaking my head. "Eww. Just the thought of it makes me sick. Bet he has some funky-looking dick." And despite trying to lighten up the mood with a joke, Diesel wasn't amused. If anything, he looked jealous.

I knew the look of a jealous man. It often held rage and danger, but mostly, it held vulnerability, one that caused you to doubt. And once there was doubt, it pushed you into action. I knew Nero was jealous for Llorón, but finding out Diesel was jealous for me, too, was hot.

"Are you jealous?"

"Shut up."

"You are." I smirked.

"Why couldn't you come up with a better lie?" Ignoring me, he continued to push on the subject.

"Well." I scratched my chin. "I didn't want Kai to find Jordan, so I just came up with the first lie I could think of."

"Jordan?"

Ah, shit. I forgot I hadn't mentioned Jordan thus far.

"Yeah, just some guy from the football team who followed my lead." Even though Jordan was the furthest thing from some nobody, I tried to shrug it off like he was. "Anyway, I smell like vomit and booze, so I'll go and take a shower." As I walked by, Diesel grabbed my arm.

"He's the guy you're talking about in the recording, the one who got beat up by those twins."

The mention of those horrid twins and what they did to Jordan was like digging into open wounds. Mixed with my guilt, I felt sick to my stomach and wanted to go, to run away, but I couldn't. I couldn't because Diesel was still holding me close.

Swallowing hard, I turned my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. "Yes, it's the same guy."

"What is he to you?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for the truth.

"It doesn't matter."

He pulled me a little bit closer. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." I freed myself from his hold. "It really doesn't matter anymore. He's not here."

A moment of silence, which felt like an eternity, lingered between us until Diesel looked away. "Take a shower. I'll get you some clothes to sleep in."

"Where am I going to sleep?" I asked, looking around the apartment.

"You'll take the guest room."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep on the couch."

Diesel

What the hell was wrong with me? Instead of getting angry with Shay-Lee for breaking into our house, I got jealous. Why? Because even though he was a piece of shit, the idea of him being with another man drove me nuts. Mierda. Just the thought of Kai believing Shay-Lee and Andrei had fucked boiled my blood. I knew it was a lie, but Kai didn't, meaning he walked around the world thinking my Shay-Lee was screwing Andrei.

My Shay-Lee?

What in God's name was wrong with me?

I grunted, rolling onto my side and punching the pillow. Sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable, yet it wasn't my lower back pain that kept me awake but all the thoughts running through my head. So many things had happened in the last few hours, making it feel like a week had passed instead of one single evening. From arguing with Andrei to confronting Shay-Lee and then bringing him here. I had no idea what possessed me, but the moment I saw him looking this broken and lost, I knew I couldn't leave him alone.

What was he even planning on doing, walking his wasted ass alone on the beach? It was the second time I'd found him a minute away from doing something really fucking stupid, but what if there was a third time and I wasn't there? Was Shay-Lee suicidal? Llorón may have been bruised and hurt, but he loved life. I knew that he did because I could feel it.

But what if we die together?

His words suddenly struck me, forcing me to reflect back on that moment. When we first met, I thought Llorón was deadly, not suicidal. I believed being with him would put me in danger, not the other way around.

Llorón was an oasis, a toxic illusion of something too good to be true. It turned out he wasn't. He was a real human being, and he was bleeding. He was hurting, and his pain was something I needed to fix.

Before killing herself, my mamá was depressed for a long time. For months, I watched the life slowly drain out of her until there was no light left in her eyes. The day she pulled the trigger and blew her brains out simply made her death official. Nothing more, nothing less. The truth was, she had died the day they found Carmen's butchered body in a ditch.

That was why Shay-Lee confused me. Even though death was written in his eyes, so was life. As sad and broken as he was, he also held fire. Fire that burned with the desire to live and survive. His hunger for life was what separated Shay-Lee from my mamá. But in the end, he was hurting, just like she did.

The idea that some people in his life chose to admire his pain and use it for their selfish needs was sickening. Not only that, but Shay-Lee allowed those people to do it and encouraged them. It was heartbreaking. His pain needed to be chased away, not cherished.

Massaging the bridge of my nose, I let out a deep sigh. If only helping this jackass was easy. Why couldn't he be a bit more decent? A bit less annoying? Instead, whenever he opened his mouth to bitch, all I wanted to do was to shut it up right back.

With my cock.

"Fuck." I threw my pillow across the room. Clearly, I was making no progress with sleep. Getting up, I grabbed my pack of smokes from the table and went out to the balcony. Leaning over the rail and lighting the cig, the same thought I always had crossed my mind, that I should quit this nasty habit. I actually tried to do it a couple of times before but failed miserably each time.

"Couldn't sleep?"

With the cig between my lips, I looked over my shoulder to find Shay-Lee standing by the sliding door. A sense of possessiveness overtook me at the sight of him in my clothes. Even though he wasn't a small guy and had a defined, ripped body, he was smaller than me, and the sweats and shirt I'd lent him were too big.

"Shit, did I wake you up?"

He shook his head and stepped closer. "I couldn't sleep either," he said, leaning his back against the rail.

Taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke into the cold air, I rubbed my jaw. "Why couldn't you fall asleep?"

"Why couldn't you?"

Dropping my head down, I snorted.

"I'll answer yours if you'll answer mine." His reply made me look at him. This game was Nero and Llorón's thing. Their way of getting to know each other.

Am I willing to know Shay-Lee, too?

Biting my cheek, I followed my gut and nodded. "You go first."

He was silent for a minute, his face serious while his blue eyes searched mine for something.

"Why did you help me tonight?"

"Because you looked like you needed help." My answer was out of my mouth before I could even stop to think. It was as simple as that. He needed help, and I couldn't turn my back on him. "And before you open your mouth and bitch about how you don't need my pity, don't." I flicked the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray after taking the last drag, then tossed it. Pushing back from the rail, I turned around, so now we were both leaning with our backs against it. "You're a crazy son of a bitch, and I'll probably regret saying this… But you're not all that bad."

"Ever thought about pursuing a career in poetry?"

Rolling my eyes, I bumped my shoulder with his. "Fuck off."

He laughed, his lips spreading wide as beautiful smile lines adorned his face. Whenever Llorón laughed, I imagined how he'd look under the mask. My imagination didn't do justice compared to Shay-Lee, not even close.

"My turn," I said, getting his attention back. I had many questions to ask, but one stood above all, taunting me for weeks. "When did you realize it was me?" Squeezing my eyes shut, I rubbed my temples. "I mean, when we kissed… when we… did you know?" My throat went dry, and my whole body tensed from the fear of finding out the truth.

"Oh, God." He sighed deeply, pressing his palms together as if praying, and brought them to his mouth. "I know that I lie a lot, and there's no reason for you to believe a word I say, but I swear to you that I found out the same day you did."

I felt like a rock had been lifted off my shoulders as relief washed over me, taking away some of my anger. Despite everything that happened, the moments I shared with Llorón were sacred. Honest. Conversations and experiences I still cherished to my core.

"How did you find out?"

"In the swimming pool. It was the first time I saw you…" He stopped and gave me an awkward look. "You know what I mean. It was the first time I saw Diesel and not Nero shirtless. Until then, you always wore clothes that covered up your tattoos. And there was also the pink hair."

I nodded because he was telling the truth. I always made sure to cover up my ink, and the pink hair? Now that my hair was back to its natural black, I'd completely forgotten about it.

"The truth was that I should have known it was you, but—" He paused, took a deep breath. "I was blinded by hate and failed to see what was right in front of me," he admitted.

I knew exactly what he meant. There were times Llorón seemed familiar, yet I never made the connection. All the clues were there, displayed before my eyes, but my hate for Shay-Lee was so strong that I refused to see the truth. Perhaps, subconsciously, I didn't want to make the connection.

"What about now? Still hate me?"

A smile spread on his lips, and he half turned to face me. "That's already your third question." He raised three fingers between us. "It's my turn."

"Go for it," I said, shaking my head with amusement.

"What about you? Do you still hate me?"

The little brat.

If he had asked me the same question a few days ago, my answer would have been a blunt lie, not to him, of course, but to myself. Because until tonight, it was hard for me to accept that despite everything, Shay-Lee Rogers was my Llorón.

"No. I don't."

He didn't smile or say anything back, but I saw the relief in his eyes.

"But it doesn't mean I'm ready to pick up from where Nero and Llorón stopped." There was still too much between us for me to see how it could work.

Nodding, he bit on his bottom lip. "Yeah, of course. I mean, it makes sense." The disappointment in his voice was vivid, but I'd have to endure it because right now, we were both too raw to dig into those fresh wounds.

"Vamos, chico." I nudged him. "Ask me another question."

His face lit up as he pursed his lips together and hummed before asking who Kai was and how we met. Without noticing, we spent the next two hours answering each other's questions. At some point, it started drizzling, so we moved inside. Now, curled into himself on the other side of the couch, Shay-Lee frowned at me.

"You expect me to believe you've never tasted meat? Not even a bite?" I nodded, and he scrunched up his face. "Fuck off, how's that even possible?"

"I was always a vegetarian. You know, I felt bad for hurting animals? Then in juvie, the food just sucked. It literally made me sick, so I changed my diet once out."

Nudging my thigh with his feet, he smirked. "Aren't you full of surprises."

Rolling my eyes, I shoved him away. "Stop being a bitch."

"I mean it." He pulled his legs to his chest and hugged them. "You are surprising. I mean—" His words were cut by a deep yawn.

Checking my phone, I saw it was almost 4:00 a.m. "You tired?"

"N-no." His eyelids were heavy before he rested his head on the armrest. "I'm not tired at all."

Another yawn.

"Why won't you go to bed?"

"Is that a question?" he murmured in a sleepy voice, a small smile on his lips as he looked at me with hooded eyes.

"Maybe."

"Well…" Yawn. "The room is too dark."

My brows pulled closer. "Ain't that the point?" I poked his elbow, and he curled harder into himself.

"You'll laugh, but I'm scared of the dark." He chuckled, closing his eyes again.

"You, what?"

He blinked several times as if fighting to keep awake. "Mhmm?"

"You're afraid of the dark?"

Rubbing his eyes, he nodded.

"But how? I mean, what about the Notte Oscura?"I asked, still trying to wrap my head around that fact. Why would he agree to be in that room if he was scared of the dark?

He shifted his head a bit, his lashes lowered as he stared back at me, a soft, beautiful smile coating his lips. "Because you were there, too."

Suddenly, the room was a lot hotter than it was a second ago, and I had to look away, or else he'd see the flush that crept up to my face. His confession caught me off guard, making me miss a fucking beat. For God's sake, he was too much to handle. Thankfully, he dozed off again, missing my awkward reaction.

Rubbing my face, I sighed and faced him again. Looking at his body, slumped on the couch like a broken doll, sat wrong with me, so I got up.

"You're going to be the end of me," I muttered as I grabbed his sleeping body and lifted him in my arms.

"I hate carrots, too," he mumbled in his sleep as I started to walk toward the bedroom.

Shaking my head, I smiled. "God, you really do never shut up."