Page 106 of Explosive Prejudice

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, señora,” 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.

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