Chapter 40

Shay-Lee

After we left their house, Camilo helped me to the car, then got into the driver's seat and drove away. I had no idea where we were headed because he hadn't said a word since we left. Eyes focused on the road, he had one hand clenched around the steering wheel while the other rested against the window.

He was tormented by thoughts, and I felt guilty. If it weren't for me, Camilo wouldn't have been in this state. He wouldn't have had injured hands with torn skin and bruised knuckles. He wouldn't have lost his best friend, and now he wouldn't be driving away from what used to be his home.

We drove in complete silence until he pulled into the parking lot of a small motel not too far from the highway. Getting out of the car, he still hadn't said a single word, but he helped me get out.

"Thank you," I said as he lent me his hand, and he hummed in response. My muscles were sore, and my body hurt, but I was used to it and knew I'd be fine in a couple of days. My father always knew how to hit me in the right places and how much force to apply to make me hurt but not permanently injure me. This time, he went a bit further but still remained as composed as a devil like him could.

"Wait for me outside," Camilo said before he walked to the check-in desk. A few minutes later, he returned with a key and asked me to follow him. After taking the stairs, we entered a small room on the second floor that had one bed, a bathroom, and hideous carpeting that smelled of mold. There was also an old wooden cabinet with a TV that looked like it was twenty years old.

Camilo walked back to the door with the car keys in his hands. Nerves struck me, and my stomach turned with the fear of him leaving.

"Where are you going?" My voice was tinged with fear. We hadn't even been here for one minute, and he was already leaving. Did he change his mind? Did he finally realize I was too much work?

He didn't answer me before walking out of the door and closing it behind him.

Being left alone by Camilo scared me to death, and the need to obliterate my mind to take away my growing anxiety grew. Coke would've been nice, maybe morphine. Anything to keep me from hurting. My chest felt tight to the point breathing was hard, and the walls began to close in on me.

Go back to him.

Like a trained pet, my first instinct was to return to my dad. No matter how hellish life with him was, it was consistent. He'd never leave me, and that thought was somehow comforting. It was toxic, but I couldn't help it. I hated that despite everything he did to me, I couldn't escape him. Maybe I didn't want to escape him because deep down, I knew I deserved everything he did to me.

From beating the shit out of me to—no. I cut that line of thought because no one deserved that. Right? No one deserves to be, to be what? Tears welled in my eyes because I wasn't able to admit the extent of his monstrosity. Because admitting it would make me a victim, and I refused to be that.

After forty minutes, Camilo still hadn't returned, and I decided to take a shower and then leave. I didn't know where I'd go, but I'd figure something out. If Camilo didn't return, then he made the right fucking decision. If he did return, I'd decide for him. He'd been through enough in his life, and adding me to the equation would only create a bigger tragedy. I ruined everyone who ever got close to me, and Camilo would be no different.

Midway through my shower, the door to the bathroom burst open and Camilo walked in, a furious expression on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted while holding plastic bags.

So he went out to buy us supplies.

"You can't get your bandage wet," he said.

"Doesn't matter. I'll fix them before I go," I told him over my shoulder, then returned to washing my hair with the all-in-one body soap this place offered.

"Go? Go where?"

"Doesn't matter." Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back and allowed the hot steam to wash away the soap when the shower door slid open and Camilo stepped into the small stall, fully clothed, and grabbed my arms.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he hissed as the water soaked his hair, clothes, and skin.

I wanted to tell him that he was better off without me, but it was his bloodshot eyes, holding so much pain, that stopped me.

"Were you planning to leave me?" His voice was still angry, but I could sense the hurt in it.

Oh God.

I had been so focused on my own pain that I had completely dismissed his. And now, when this man was holding on to me for dear life with an expression I knew all too well, I realized how stupid I was to think I could leave.

How could I ever leave him?

"I scared you, didn't I," he said in a low breath, breaking another piece of my heart. Leaning forward, he buried his head in my shoulder while sliding his hands around my naked body, not how he usually did with tenderness but with fear and hesitation. "Don't leave me."

Like an oak tree, always so tall, suddenly shifting in the wind, that was how holding Camilo was. The indestructible man who never flinched suddenly broke apart with the fear of being left alone, and it was heartbreaking.

I moved my arms from my sides and placed one on the back of his head, slipping the other underneath his soaked shirt.

"I'm not going anywhere." I ran my fingers along his spine, down to his scar, and then up.

He hugged me harder, nearly crushing my bones with how strong his arms gripped me.

"If I ever do to you what I did to Andrei, put a bullet in my head."

Startled by his words, I quickly pushed back, cupped his face in my palms, and forced him to look at me. His eyes looked dead, haunted, once again proving to me how much alike we were. Facing his shuttered expression was the same as looking in the mirror.

"Never."

"You have to."

I shook my head and swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. "You'll never hurt me."

"I don't know." He tore his eyes away from me. "I honestly can't say that I won't." His words were as heavy as the tears I tried to hold back.

"But I can." I forced his eyes back. "I know you won't, and I'm not scared of you."

"But you should be. When I get angry, I just… I can't help it, and I keep trying to think about what makes me different from them. From my dad, yours. I'm a monster just like them."

"Maybe you're a monster, Camilo. But you're one of the good ones. After all, it takes a monster to take one down." I caressed his jaw. "I should know because I'm one myself."

When he still refused to look at me, I tried kissing him, but he shifted his face. "Shay-Lee—"

"No." I grabbed his hands and brought them to my mouth, kissing his knuckles. "You're the greatest man I have ever known in my life." I palmed his hands harder. "The absolute greatest."

Camilo still looked trapped in his own head, so I closed the tap and got out of the shower, still holding his hand. This time, I was the one who led him out.

After I got rid of his wet clothes, I dried him off and then led him to the bed. I made him sit on the edge of the mattress as I went back to pick up the plastic bag from the bathroom floor. It had basic clothes, such as T-shirts and boxers, toothbrushes, deodorant, fresh bandages, and ointment for my wounds.

Always so thoughtful.

I returned to him and sat on the floor between his spread legs before I took his hands. Without saying a word, I began peeling off his ruined bandages. Slowly, I spiraled them until his skin was revealed. He hissed as I moved my fingers over his knuckles, and I chuckled. The strongest of men could still be crybabies.

I began patching him up when my eyes moved along his body. Just above where the towel was knotted around his waist, he had a long scar from when he got stabbed. I remembered the time in the hospital when I punched him there. Did he still have my recording on his phone? I'd have to ask him that later, or maybe not. Honestly, I didn't care. Our past no longer mattered to me because now, he was the only thing that made sense. My heart rate increased with the thought, and I swallowed hard in an attempt to push aside my emotions.

The whole time I was rebandaging him, Camilo never uttered a word. He sat still while his sad eyes followed my every action with caution, desperate for my attention. He wouldn't admit it, at least not with words, but his tense body and broken expression told me exactly what he needed.

Once done, I rose to my feet while keeping my spot between his legs. Camilo looked up, his dark irises even more vivid because of how tired he looked—exhausted from life.

His gaze never left mine as I removed the towel from around my waist and tossed it on the floor. Naked, I stood tall in front of him, our eyes still connected. This wasn't about arousing him but allowing him to see there were no more walls between us, nowhere to hide.

I pushed him down so his back hit the mattress and climbed up on top of him. Automatically, Camilo moved his hands to my hips, but I nudged them away and brought them to rest above his head.

"No." I ghosted my lips over his while grazing our noses together. "You're going to lie back and let me do the work."

Vulnerability flashed in his eyes as he stretched his neck, desperately trying to capture my lips. I grabbed his jaw, held him still, then smashed our mouths together and ravished his lips the way he always did to me. He groaned into the kiss, his body melting to my touch. His reaction melted my heart, filling me with the confidence to go on.

I dropped my hand from his jaw and slid it down his body until I reached the towel secured to his hips. I moved my hand over the soft cotton, massaging his hardening dick in slow moves. A low groan escaped him when I squeezed his cock more firmly. We both hissed as I slipped my hand underneath the towel and wrapped my fingers around his hot length. Now fully erect, he throbbed in my palm, and I kissed him gently before licking my lips. The intimacy we both felt increased our arousal, and it was hard not to get lost in it.

"Shay-Lee," he gasped as I moved my hand faster, squeezing him harder around the tip, where he was the most sensitive. "Shit, that feels good."

"Yeah? Just wait until you're inside me." I smirked and watched as he bit down on his bottom lip before sending his head back.

After I'd got rid of his towel, leaving him completely naked, I straddled him. Looking down at his strong body lying beneath me and at my mercy filled me with warmth and a sense of responsibility. Now, for the first time, it was my job to take care of him.

I brought my fingers to his mouth, and he parted his lips and sucked them in. Pushing them even farther, I pressed down on his tongue and wetted them with his spit, then pulled out and brought them to my hole. Camilo's eyes followed my every move while I began fingering myself on top of him, preparing my ass to take him.

Unable to hold himself back, he grabbed my cheeks in each palm and spread me wider, giving me better access as I continued to prepare myself. Tucking my lips underneath my teeth, I groaned, feeling my fingers deep enough to know I was ready.

Pulling out, I spat on my hand and then smeared my saliva on his throbbing length, using it as lube. I preferred it that way since it made everything so much more raw. "Tonight, I'm going to feel all of you," I said, stroking him lazily from base to tip, collecting his precum along the way.

He nodded, his face flushed red in a way I'd never seen. My breath caught as he slid his hands to my thighs and caressed me. He was so goddamn gentle it drove me nuts, and I wanted to devour him fully but knew I had to take my time.

"I need to be inside you." His voice was hoarse and low, dripping with need. It was almost like hearing him for the first time because he'd never acted this way before. His impatience showed, and fuck me if it wasn't what I lived for.

Raising my hips, I brought his bare cock to my ass and lowered myself onto it. Camilo let out a deep groan as his tip breached me, his eyes focusing on where I slowly sucked him in.

"Fuck," he hissed, closing his eyes and sending his head back. He grabbed my thighs, fingers digging into my flesh and tightening his hold as I continued to lower myself until he was completely settled in. Not using a condom was a whole new level of pleasure, and it showed on his face. The veins on his neck popped out as every one of his muscles was clenched with how hard he held himself together, and I hadn't even started riding him.

"God, you feel good," I said in a breath, moving my hands over my body to my hair and holding it above my head as I rolled my hips. He moaned, literally moaned, and the sound went straight to my aching cock.

"You like that, baby?" I asked, rocking myself on his dick. "You like me riding you raw?"

"Yes, fuck, yes." Lust tinged his every word.

"Of course you do." Grabbing his hand, I brought it to my abs and placed it on my lower stomach. "Because this is where you fucking belong, baby. Deep inside of me."

Camilo's eyes widened, and his breath caught before he clenched his jaw. "S-shit, I feel like I'm gonna come."

Smirking, I leaned forward so his dick nearly slipped out, then plunged it back in, working my ass on him. Each time his cock slid in and out, it rubbed my prostate, bringing me closer to my orgasm.

Camilo was soaked in pleasure, so much so that he couldn't even speak. He bit down on his bottom lip, trying to hold back from coming and filling me with his release. Fuck, did I want it. I wanted his cum so much my entire body burned for it, and for him to finally make me his, but not yet. There were still things I wanted to do, ways to show him how much he controlled me, and vice versa.

He is mine, and I am his.

Those words looped inside my screwed head as my hands moved on their own, finding their place around Camilo's neck. His eyes snapped open, and fear flickered in them before he nodded, and I tightened my grip. His dick pulsed and throbbed as I continued to choke him, eyes growing wide and face turning red, but he didn't ask me to stop. No. He thrust his hips up, pushing his cock deeper inside me. He then grabbed my forearm, his fingers digging into my flesh in a painful grip, hard enough for his nails to dig into me, before he froze.

I let go of his neck at once, just as his dick pulsed, and he came deep inside my ass, pumping me full with his cum. I rode his orgasm while stroking myself until my balls drew tight and I reached my own climax, shivers running down my spine as I shot my load all over his drained body. It was so intense, so pure, and fulfilling that, for once, my soul felt healed.

My only hope was for the same relief to wash over him, and perhaps I brought him the same bit of comfort he gave me just by existing.

Camilo was still panting, trying to calm down. He looked like a mess, unfocused, with his eyes half closed and his lips parted. Did I go too far with him? But then he slid his hands from my arms up to the back of my neck and pulled me close. Our bodies were plastered together, and my face was shoved in the crook of his neck. He didn't speak but continued to hold me until he fell asleep.