Page 22 of Explosive Prejudice

“No, no, you weren’t.” I was quick to cry. “It did. I just needed some air last night and didn’t notice the time.” He finally let go of me, and I seized the opportunity and looked up to him. “If I knew you were coming back, I would have waited for you. You know that, right?” Cleaning the spit and blood from my chin, I then gave him my best attempt at a genuine smile. “B-but you didn’t call or let me know, so I had no idea you were cutting your trip short.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, and I knew he was considering my words, so I continued playing into the role he loved so much. “I missed you when you were gone. I’m so happy you’re back.”

Finally, his eyes gleamed with something other than rage, and I knew I was safe. For now.

“I don’t want you to spend your nights outside the house,” he said while taking the bottle of water Orson offered him. “It’s a dangerous world out there.”

Nothing is more dangerous than you.

“I won’t.”

Nodding, he opened the bottle and gave it to me. With shaking hands, I took a small sip, then handed it back.

“Good boy.” Returning the bottle back to Orson, he stepped back on the treadmill. “Make sure someone cleans this mess,” he ordered Orson and went back to his run as if everything that just went on never happened.

Now free to go, I started to walk back to my room. About midway, Orson grabbed my wrist and forced me to stay put.

“Let go,” I snapped, but he pulled me closer.

“You’re lying to him.”

It took me a moment to realize he was staring at the bite mark Dion left on my neck. Thank God my dad had missed it.

“What if I am?”

He smirked, and the pleasure on his sadistic face made me jolt.

“I missed you, too, you know. I missed our special times together.”

“Fuck you,” I hissed through gritted teeth, and he tsked. I hate that sound.

Repulsed, I pushed back from him. Thankfully, this time, he didn’t keep me from walking away.

Reaching my room, I quickly locked the door and then walked straight to the shower. Turning the water on, I went in fully dressed. The cold water hitting my body did nothing to ease the pain, so I punched the shower wall. I punched the wall because I couldn’t punch them. I was too afraid to fight back, too weak, too nothing.

Diesel

“¿Qué pasa, Principito?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I answered my brother, sitting in front of me with his hands resting on the metal table. We were currently seated in the prison visiting room, surrounded by other inmates and visitors. Since he started doing his time, I made sure to visit Iván at least once a week.

“You can’t fool me,” my brother said in Spanish, leaning closer. “Why so blue?”

Growing up, we were close, mainly because he was only six years older, but also due to us sticking together to protect our mom and sister from the man we called father. Our padre, who died of a cardiac arrest in prison four years ago, was a mean son of a bitch who enjoyed taking his frustration out on his family. Now, Iván and I were the only ones left of our family.

“I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Because of the club?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I nodded, and he swore.

“I told you not to work for Dion.”

“It keeps you safe.”

“Fuck keeping me safe, Principito. I’m the older brother. I need to keep you safe.” Principito—Mamá used to call me that. It meant little prince in Spanish. She called me her little prince because, according to her, I was the most beautiful kid she’d ever seen.

“Just shut up.” I shifted the toothpick I was chewing on from one corner of my mouth to the other before taking it out. “It’s not that bad… but sometimes the hours are hard.”

“What about school?” His question made me laugh, and in response, he frowned. “The fuck you laughing at?”

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