Page 64 of Explosive Prejudice

His brows pulled together as his baby blues shone under the moonlight. “Weren’t you the one who said death is written in my eyes?” His voice was almost a whisper carried with the darkness of the night. “If you leave now, no one would know. No one will care, anyway.”

His words broke my heart.

I moved my hand at his nape, keeping him close. “I would. I don’t want you to die.”

Anger took over his face before he pushed me harder into the sand and got up. “Stop pitying me,” he snapped, turning his back to me.

“I don’t pity you at all.” I got up and brushed the sand from my pants. “Not at all, Princesa.” Turning to look at me, I finally saw some of the familiar fire back in his eyes. “You’re probably the most annoying brat I’ve ever met, and there are times I truly loathe you, but for fuck’s sake, Shay-Lee, I don’t want you dead.” I took a deep breath, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Suicide is not a solution. All it does is leave more devastation behind.”

The vivid image of my mom’s brain splattered all over our shower wall hit me. The red, the smell of the gunpowder mixed with the stench of blood, the rifle next to her lifeless body, and the realization she’d left us alone. She fucked me up for life, but this wasn’t the time to think of her because she was long gone, while Shay-Lee wasn’t. He was right here, begging to be seen. To be heard. So, instead of allowing the darkness of those memories to pull me in, I took a step toward him.

“Let’s go back,” I said, waiting for Shay-Lee to make a move. When he didn’t, I offered him a hand. “Vamos, chico. Stop being a brat.”

He looked at my hand, then looked up at me, hesitation in his eyes.

“You can trust me,” I added, as if trying to convince him I wouldn’t harm him, too. Shay-Lee waited in silence for another moment, reminding me of a wounded animal tortured by humans all its life. A sliver of relief pierced my heart when I saw him moving toward me, and when he took my hand, a small smile appeared on his lips. One of gratitude. One of hope. Only his smile was soon replaced with a paling face as he bent down and threw up in the sand. Rolling my eyes because this was starting to become a habit, I grabbed his hair and held it away from his face.

“That’s right, get it all out,” I said, half laughing while patting his back as he continued to hurl and pour his guts out. At least this would sober him up a bit.

“Feeling better?” I was unable to hide a smile as Shay-Lee finally straightened up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Aren’t you enjoying this?” he grunted.

I patted his shoulder. “Nah. Just glad it wasn’t on me this time.”

He coughed. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. Besides, I already punched you for it.”

He gave me an odd look, almost amused, before the sound coming from the party snapped our attention back. Shay-Lee’s expression hardened as if remembering where he was, and he swallowed hard.

“I guess I should go back.” He shoved one hand into his trousers pocket while rubbing his face with the other. “Don’t worry about leaving me alone. I’m fine.” He forced a smile. “Thank you, I guess.”

Turning around, he was ready to go when I grabbed his shoulder. “Nah, you’re not staying here tonight.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” I said and started moving. “C’mon, I need to grab my phone, and then we’re out of here.”

Shay-Lee

“Put this on,” Diesel said as he handed me his helmet and climbed on the motorcycle. Still processing everything that was happening, I looked down at the helmet. Even though puking did help a bit, I was still far from being sober. Added to the shock from how Diesel was treating me, I was a bit overwhelmed. I mean, after getting back from the shore and getting his phone, he even made sure to bring me a bottle of water, which he’d forced me to finish.

“What about you?” I asked once I realized there wasn’t another helmet.

“I’ll be fine.”

The half smile he offered me formed a lump in my throat. Swallowing hard, I put on the helmet, then looked back, ensuring nobody noticed us.

“Don’t worry,” Diesel said, almost like he understood my fear. “We weren’t followed.”

Nodding, I was ready to climb behind him when he stopped me. Taking off his jacket, he gave it to me. “It’s going to be cold.”

Tracing the jacket with my fingers, I considered if I should wear it for a moment. What about him? Wouldn’t he get cold, too? After all, he’d be getting most of the wind.

“I don’t have all night,” he grunted before turning on the engine.

“Shut up.”

---