Chapter 53

Soren

"L isten up, buttercup—"

"Ugh, don't call me that," I hissed at Eiv while we both stood in the hospital parking lot, trying to look discreet.

"Why not? It's cute," he pouted, brows curved and eyes hiding behind dark sunglasses.

"Please focus."

"Fine." He looked over his shoulder, quickly scanning the ground before turning back to me. "I was only able to get you twenty minutes with him. So don't waste them. I doubt we'll get another chance."

I nodded, well aware of how precious this limited access we had to Shay-Lee was. I had twenty minutes to convince him to give his testimony, which could win us the case.

"Let's go."

We parted paths as we agreed, and I began making my way to Shay-Lee's floor. I was never one to care about breaking the rules or lying, but this time, my heart raced incredibly fast with the fear of getting caught. Thankfully, the elevator was empty when it arrived, and once the door closed, I leaned against the mirror and took deep breaths while I counted the floor's buttons.

"And you know what good boys do? Good boys keep their mouths shut."

My breath caught, and my blood ran cold. This was not the time or place to think about that, but ever since learning what Shay-Lee had been through, I couldn't block away those memories from resurfacing.

The elevator stopped, and as the doors opened, I knew I had no choice but to step out, even if my guts were swirling. "Do your best, Soren," I whispered to myself, then got out. I walked through the long hall until I reached the right room number, and just like Eiv had promised, the guard wasn't there. Looking to my left and right, I pushed the door open, quickly closing it behind me.

The white room was bathed in sunlight, and it took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the bright light. As soon as I was able to focus, I immediately looked at the bed placed in the center of the space and at the guy lying there, who looked nothing at all like the pictures I'd seen. Ignoring that his legs were in casts, the first change that stood out was his hair; while in all of his photos, he had long, golden hair that resembled the mane of a lion, now his head was shaved. It was probably because of the stitches that ran down the side of his skull, but it was certainly an unfortunate sight. Since he was staring out the window, I didn't see his face, only the side of it. He seemed thin and pale, almost like the faintest gust of wind could break him.

I cleared my throat to get his attention, even though I was sure he'd noticed me already, then spoke. "Hello, Mr. Rogers, I'm Soren Dane. And I'm—"

"I know who you are," he said, eyes still gazing out the window. "I've seen you on TV."

A nervous smile crept to my lips. "Well, that will make it easier, I guess." I looked around the room and spotted a chair by the window. "Mind if I sit there?" I asked. When he didn't answer, I decided to go for it.

Sitting down, I was now able to see his face. And what I saw wasn't the beautiful angel some described or the bully others feared, but a boy. A frightened boy who was living in an ongoing hell. It broke my heart, and I yearned to help him and Camilo in the same breath. Before the trial had started, my plan was to ruin Shay-Lee's name in the process of getting Camilo vindicated, only to realize that one could never be free without the other. Those two were connected through their tragic fate and had no point in living in a world where the other didn't exist.

"So if you know who I am, you also know why I'm here."

"I'm not going to testify," he said, his attention still focused on the window.

Curious to see what was so fascinating out there, I glanced over my shoulder. The view was of a small garden with some trees. It was pretty but nothing out of the ordinary.

Looking back at Shay-Lee, I leaned a bit closer. "You're his last hope to get free, Shay-Lee."

He said nothing, so I went on.

"Is that what you want? For him to spend the rest of his life in prison over a crime he didn't commit? I'm sure it's not the case because I know you love him."

Finally, he turned to face me, his brilliant blue eyes locking with mine. The tears welling in the corners dried my throat, and I observed him with awe. So much pain was written on his young face, leaving me without words.

"He'll kill him if I open my mouth," he whispered, voice shivering.

"He'll kill him either way, and you know it."

Shay-Lee's eyes widened, and he bit his lip before turning to face the window again. The sun's rays made the tears flowing down his face look like glittering diamonds.

It's heartbreaking how beautiful pain can be.

"I can help you." I clenched my fists, which were resting on my knees. "I can help you get rid of him."

He snorted, the sound so broken and twisted it made me pull back.

"Help me, huh ? This foolish thought is why I'm here and he's there."

He was referring to Camilo.

"Shay-Lee, I know you're scared, but I promise that if you trust me, I can help you both."

His eyes darted to mine, letting me see the disbelief in them. "You know nothing of me, yet you think you can save me. Well, you can't. No one can." He looked down at his hands. "Camilo tried to do that… to help me…and now he's going to die because of me."

"Listen—"

"I think you should go," he announced, clenching the bedsheets in his fist and biting his lip.

"Shay-Lee, please. If I go now, you know Camilo's fate is sealed."

"He doesn't like it when people use his name," he suddenly said, eyes softer as he gazed outside. "Only me." His voice broke, and his lips quivered before he closed his eyes.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the soft sob that came from him. I didn't want to make him feel worse, but what other way did I have to convince him? I was running out of time, and guilt was usually the best method to convince people to do things they didn't want to.

"How would you live with yourself, knowing you could have done something different?" It was a thought I often had about myself. Maybe if I had acted differently during the time I was with Ashton, we wouldn't have gotten to this point. Of course, that was a whole other situation.

"I don't plan to live much longer, anyway."

His words startled me and left me without an answer because how could you convince one who had already given up? This kid had been through so much suffering, so who was I, a complete stranger, to ask him for the little power he had left?

Positive that I'd screwed this up, I knew we would lose the case. What was I even thinking of coming here? I wasn't one to know how to reach someone's soul. I wasn't like Ashton, who knew how to speak from the heart and make you feel welcome. I was a cold man with a cold heart that sometimes felt like a shadow of himself. But then, a thought occurred to me. I wasn't Ashton, but I might as well try to do what he would have done. After all, for months, he'd been telling me to see the other person. To see who Camilo was and to speak at eye level with him.

Assuming this rule also applied to Shay-Lee, I sat back down, rubbed my sweaty palms together, and took a deep breath.

"I know what it's like to be afraid to open your mouth," I said, my voice already shivering with those horrid memories. "Because I…" Suddenly, I couldn't form my next words. It was as if they got stuck in my throat like a lump of mud. But then, I noticed Shay-Lee was looking at me with those broken eyes, and it gave me the courage to go on. "When I was a child, I was molested by a friend of my father for many years." It was the first time I had ever said this to another living soul. "And for years, I kept my lips sealed out of shame and fear because that person is still alive." And friends with my family . "But my silence only cost me my own sanity." I shook my head, remembering all the things that could have been if I were brave enough to speak. Above all, my relationship with the most amazing man I'd ever known. "I know what years of being told to keep quiet will do to you. I'm living proof of that. In fact—" I paused for a second, giving Shay-Lee a kind smile. "—I stayed silent for so long that I almost believed it never happened. But it did. And those things come back whether you want them to or not." Like that one day, seven years ago, when the monster from my past came to the office I'd been working at. He smiled and shook my hand as if he had never stripped me naked and bent me over his lap. The same lips that once told me what a pretty boy I was were now smiling at me, letting me know he was trusting me with his lawsuit. "But Shay-Lee, when good people stay silent, it's the bad ones who get away." My throat burned with the tears I tried to hold over things I never thought I'd cry over. This secret had been with me for so many years, scaring me to death. I thought that living life the way I did and controlling everything would help me forget, but the only thing it did was to help me repress.

Repress. Repress. Repress.

Until it was too much to hold, and my mind couldn't take it anymore, and no number of photos on a wall was enough to help me ease my soul.

"I may not know you personally, but from what Diesel has told me, you are a brave young man, Shay-Lee, who's been suffering way too much. You deserve to be happy, and your father deserves to be punished for the crimes he has committed."

Shay-Lee's face twisted with pain before he choked on a low sob. "I want to help," he confessed, holding his breath. "B-But I'm scared." His voice was nearly a whisper, but his call for help was loud and clear.

I leaned forward, face serious.

"I know, but I promise you that you're not alone."

There was a time I wasn't alone either, but being who I was back then, I was too stupid to acknowledge that. Too scared of what Ashton might think once he found out what had turned me into the man that I was, I kept quiet and allowed fear to control me. The fear of him being repulsed by what I was. The fear of realizing our whole relationship was built on something dirty. The fear of being rejected for never standing up and allowing this thing to go on for years until I grew older and that predator no longer had an interest in a man's body.

Now, I knew Ashton would have never done that, and the fact I doubted him proved what a coward I truly was. But there would be time for that later because, currently, my job was to help these boys, who were still just boys, locked in a hell made by men.