Chapter 38

Diesel

After I grabbed my phone, I made my way back to Shay-Lee. So far, tonight had been perfect, and I could hardly count the minutes until I would have his naked body underneath mine with his arms and legs wrapped around me. Unfortunately, my good mood was replaced with annoyance as I walked to the back alley and saw Shay-Lee's car was no longer there.

"What the hell," I muttered while looking around, an unsettling feeling twisting my gut. After checking the street to make sure he didn't just move his car, I tried calling him and was sent straight to voicemail. My anxiety grew, and then I got a text.

Llorón: Sorry, had an emergency. Talk with you tomorrow.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

Was Shay-Lee shutting me out again like he had so many times before, pushing back the minute we got too close? Trying to break down his walls was nearly impossible because whenever I took one down, he built two more.

Or maybe not?The only time Shay-Lee had seemed off tonight was after the show, but I had gotten through to him, and he'd seemed fine since. More than fine. He was euphoric, the same way I was.

My worry was confirmed after I rounded the building toward the main entrance and saw Orson giving his car keys to the valet before entering the club. Oh yeah, I remembered the son of a bitch's face.

Without thinking twice, I headed back to the employees' lounge, put my mask on, and walked into the club, ready to hunt down the scum.

I quickly spotted him in the lounge, where he picked up a male Gatto with long blond hair. The two exchanged a few words before making their way into one of the private rooms. Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the bar, I followed and waited in the shadows until they stopped before a closed door. Once Orson turned the lock, I charged at him. The Gatto he was with screamed as I smashed the bottle on Orson's head and then kicked his ass into the open room.

"Keep quiet, or I'll cut off your dick," I told the Gatto,then walked into the room and locked the door behind me.

"W-what the hell," the prick hissed while rubbing the back of his bleeding head as he struggled to get up.

"Hijueputa." I kicked his stupid body to the floor, then cracked my knuckles before fisting my hands.

Twenty minutes later, I left the club with Orson's valet card in my bloodied hands. The son of a bitch deserved every single punch I gave him. I didn't kill the fucker but made sure to knock the wind out of him before tying his unconscious body to the bed to keep him from coming after me.

After giving the valet Orson's card, I waited for the car. Meanwhile, I tried calling Shay-Lee again, but his phone was disconnected. Shit. I had a good guess as to where he was, so I got into the driver's seat as soon as the car arrived, practically yanking the valet guy out of it before shutting the door and driving off.

I drove like a maniac, cutting lanes while speeding and ignoring traffic lights as I prayed to God no cop would pull me over. I'd wasted too much time on that puta, and my mind told me I was running out of it. I clenched the steering wheel as memories of the last time I'd driven this way flashed before me. Shay-Lee's friends had ambushed my guys, and I'd rushed to get to them on time. How times had changed. Then, I'd been ready to kill Shay-Lee. Now, I was ready to kill for him.

After driving like a madman for thirty minutes, I reached their front gate, which opened immediately since I was driving Orson's car.

I sped down the driveway until I reached their house. Not bothering to turn off the engine, I got out of the car and ran to the front door, but it was fucking locked. I pounded the wood with clenched fists hard enough to make the earth shake and didn't stop until I heard a voice coming from inside the house.

A moment later, the door opened, and I was face-to-face with the main scum. I'd known enough garbage in my life to recognize them, and Christian W. Rogers was one nasty load of crap.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, calm as ever, while his cold eyes scanned me from head to toe.

"Where's Shay-Lee?" I hissed.

He put his hand on the doorframe, his body blocking me from looking into the house. "I think you're in the wrong place."

"Nah," I rasped. "I'm exactly where I should be, you asswipe. Where is he?"

His eyes moved from me to Orson's car and back. "How did you get here?"

"Why? Worried about that bitch you sent?"

His expression slipped for a second.

"Who are you?"

"You already know who I am."

He snorted, sounding like the smug asshole he was. "You're the prostitute my son is wasting himself on. Now, you better get off of my property before I call security." He moved to close the door when I grabbed the frame.

"Where's Shay-Lee?"

"He's asleep."

My eyes locked on the tiny blood spatters on the collar of his white dress shirt.

Christian noticed where I was looking because he was quick to clarify. "I was cooking steaks," he said, offering me a fake smile.

"Steaks, huh?" I hissed. Before he could react, I head-butted him, knocking him hard enough that he took three steps back while trying to keep his balance and stop his nose from bleeding all over the floor. With the door now wide open, I let myself in. Before he could even speak, I kneed his stomach, and he folded in half. I took advantage of his shock and kicked him to the floor.

"Cooking steaks, my ass." I spat on the floor next to him. "Fucking pig." I then dashed into the house.

"Shay-Lee!" I shouted, but all I could hear was the echo of my own voice. As I tried to think of where to go, a door opened, and an older lady dressed in a gray uniform peeked her head out.

"Disculpé, se?ora," I said to her, assuming this was the maid Shay-Lee had mentioned, the one who'd taught him Spanish. "?Dónde está?" Where is he?

She didn't answer me with words but pointed in the direction with her eyes. Understanding she was too afraid to speak, I appreciated the gesture.

"Muchas gracias." I thanked her and ran in the direction she pointed out.

Why were the lights all off?

You'll laugh, but I'm scared of the dark.

Shay-Lee's words came back to haunt me, causing me to clench my jaw and bite the inside of my cheek only so I wouldn't scream with anger. No wonder he'd been so scared when his father was a fucking sadist. Anger flooded my veins, but I tried to focus on Shay-Lee. He needed me.

The sound of running water caught my attention, and I followed it until I reached a large door. Pushing it open, I stepped into a completely dark room. I found the light switch, flicked it on, and ran to the en suite bathroom.

To say I saw red would be a fucking joke because the fury that ran through me at seeing Shay-Lee's beaten body lying on the shower floor, with his hands tied over his head to the water pipe on the wall, was greater than anything I'd ever felt before.

Since he was facing the wall, I had a full view of his back, which had two deep cuts that appeared to be whipping wounds. My stomach roiled with acid at the sight. Furious, I was torn between helping Shay-Lee or going back to kill his fucking father. I'd risk life in prison if I had to. But I couldn't. Shay-Lee deserved more than being left tied up like a piece of meat for another second.

"Shay-Lee." I dropped to my knees beside him as I worked on his bonds to release him. His wrists were torn and bloody, so I was careful while working on the rope. Once I had him free, I turned him in my arms, making sure not to hurt his back.

His face was also covered in blood, running down from a cut above his brow and getting into his eye, but at least it didn't appear like he'd broken anything.

Thank God.

"Llorón," I whispered, my voice breaking, as I traced his wet skin with trembling fingers. I pressed my lips together, trying to hold in the suffocating pain that ripped apart my guts and flooded my veins with wrath. Pure, animalistic wrath that made me thirsty for blood.

I was fucking feral.

Shay-Lee's face twisted before he blinked his eyes open, and despite everything, they were still so blue.

So pure.

"C-Camilo?" he asked with disbelief.

"Yes, baby, I'm here. I'm right here."

His lower lip quivered before his face twisted with pain. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely there, as he broke with tears.

"Don't." I kissed the top of his head while pushing his wet hair out of his face. "Think you can hold on to me?"

He nodded, then slid his hands around my neck. He felt so fragile that I was almost too afraid to lift him. He only wore a pair of white boxer briefs that had turned red from the blood. Carmen suddenly flashed before my eyes. Images of her bloodied thighs. Quickly pushing the horrid memory away, I grabbed a towel and covered him up.

With him in my arms, I made my way back to the front door. Christian was still there when we reached it, clenching the wall for balance while using his shirt to nurse his injured nose.

"Can you wait just a second?" I asked Shay-Lee in the most adoring voice I could find and smiled at him once he nodded. "Good." I kissed his forehead and then gently put him down on a wooden cabinet before walking over to his piece-of-shit father. Christian raised his eyes to meet mine just in time for me to throw the first punch, hitting him on the right side of his face. He was sent flying back and crashed against the wall. I then hit him again and again until he was on the floor. The mean son of a bitch clearly knew how to take a hit since he hadn't lost consciousness, but at least he was on his knees where he belonged.

"Touch him again and I'll fucking murder you," I promised him, then kicked his stomach one last time and went back to grab Shay-Lee.

"My car's over there," he hissed, voice weak, while cocking his head in the direction of his G-Wagon. "Keys inside."

I had a feeling Christian wasn't about to call security or the cops, considering what he had just done to his son, but I still wouldn't risk it. Moving fast, I put Shay-Lee in the passenger seat, took off my jacket, and covered his shoulders with it. He hissed in pain once his back touched the seat, and the urge to return inside the house to finish Christian off was like a fucking time bomb ticking in my head. I was sure that if not for Shay-Lee clinging to my hand, I would have done it. Instead, he made me look at him, proving once again how much this man controlled me. How one look in his world-captivating eyes was enough to set me back on track.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," I said as soon as I climbed into the car and started it.

"No."

"No?"

"I don't need it," he grunted. "I don't need a hospital."

"You can hardly speak," I barked. "You're hurt and bleeding. You need someone to take care of it."

"I-I said no."

"What about your back?" I asked as I raced down the road leading out of their house. "Someone needs to check it out."

Shay-Lee was about to argue but then groaned with pain as I took a sharp turn.

I was having none of it.

"I'm going to the ER, whether you like it or not," I announced, and I did.