Page 115 of Explosive Prejudice

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“My uncle was a hideous man, the same as his brother. And unlike my dad, he didn’t waste his days drinking but doing nasty jobs for bad men. Anyway, he lived in a bad neighborhood that reeked of crime. Naturally, Iván and I hung out with kids our age, only they were cruel motherfuckers.

“Those kids… teens, or whatever you want to call them, enjoyed hurting others for the sake of fun and boredom. Whether it was fighting among themselves or abusing innocent animals. It fucked me up, you know? The idea of someone hurting a helpless animal whose only crime was to be born.”

And Camilo claims to be a monster himself? How can he not see how kind he is?

“One day, they found a bitch that just gave birth to a bunch of pups and decided to torture her. They kicked her body, stabbed her with sticks, and took away the pups.” Camilo paused for a second before he could continue. “Iván was nowhere to be found, so I stopped them myself. I had no chance since there were five of them, and I was a ten-year-old kid, but I didn’t care. They kicked my ass, but it wasn’t enough, so they put me face-to-face with the bitch.” As he told his story, his fingers drew circles on my skin. “You see, dogfighting was popular in that area, and that poor animal was tortured to fight in those awful pits. She was scared, starved, and had just lost her pups, so obviously, she charged at me.”

My mouth fell open as I stared at him while his eyes were still fixed on the ceiling.

“You know how some people who’ve been through an accident say they don’t remember much? Well, I wasn’t that lucky. I remember every moment of the attack as if it happened yesterday. The fear in the bitch’s eyes, her claws and fangs ripping my skin apart. The sound of laughter coming from those pricks while she tore me to shreds.”

It grew harder and harder to listen, but I was the one who asked, so I swallowed back my ache for him and said nothing.

“It only stopped when I heard a gunshot, and the poor animal dropped dead.”

When I first asked him about his scar, he said it was from a dog attack, only what I’d imagined didn’t come close to his horror.

“What happened then?” I asked.

“I got up from the ground, my skin and muscle ripped apart, grabbed a brick that was there the whole time, and used it to smack the face of the guy who shot her.”

I rose up and gaped at him. “What?”

“I smashed his face until he was unrecognizable and didn’t stop even when the police sirens were heard, and all the others fled. I just couldn’t. My vision went red, and I just… I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t. The cops pulled me away before I could.”

“If the brick was there all along, why didn’t you hit the dog?” I asked, staring at him.

“Even though my instinct told me to fight, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. Besides, it all happened so fast, I didn’t think it through and just tried to keep my face away from her jaws.”

It was beyond me how brave and mature he was from such a young age, but then again, he had no choice, considering what he went through.

Poking my nose, Camilo smiled at me softly. “Don’t look so serious. It happened years ago.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. “Why would they send you to juvie for that? I mean, you did the natural thing.”

Camilo shrugged. “Not according to the court and the shrinks who decided I was a risk to public safety.”

I slapped his chest. “Risk to public safety? That’s bullshit.”

Laughing, he pulled me on top of him while making sure not to touch my back. “I was ten years old and caved a man’s face in with a brick, sending him to a year of recovery. What did you expect?”

This bullshit made me furious. Camilo did the right thing, protected the poor animal, and was punished for it? Where the fuck was justice?

“This pisses me off.”

“You and I both, Llorón.” He grinned, and at least he was smiling.

“Okay, what about the other two times?”

“Well.” He rubbed his chin. “The second time wasn’t really interesting. I was caught with a gun about a month after I was out of juvie and was sent for another round.”

I frowned at him. “What were you doing with a gun?”

“Does it matter?”

I shrugged. “No.”

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