Page 140 of Dissolving Prejudice

“I’m perfectly fine—”

“What if something suddenly happens to you? I mean, you’ve been in a freaking accident, Shay-Lee. A doctor must see you before you leave… It’s better to be safe than sorry; that’s all I’m saying.”

Annoyed by his hypocrisy, I let go of my necklace. “Now you care about my well-being?”

Hurt crossed his face, and he tucked his arms under his armpits while shifting weight on his legs. “If you’d just let me explain—”

“Give me your phone,” I demanded.

“What?”

I stretched my hand and waved it. “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

Jordan hesitated for a second before pulling out his phone and handing it to me.

“What happened to yours?” he asked while I typed in Camilo’s number.

“It flew out of my car.”

“It what?”

“Stop talking—fuck,” I swore after the call went straight to voicemail.

“Where’s Diesel anyway?”

Ignoring Jordan’s question, I attempted to call again only to be sent to voicemail, again. Clearly, Camilo wasn’t about answering me.

He has every reason to ignore me.

“Here.” I tossed Jordan his phone back, and he barely caught it in time. “Go find me some doctor who’ll get me discharged, and then don’t ever show me your face again.” I turned my back to him.

“Shay-Lee—”

“Just… get out of my life, Jordan. Do us both this favor.”

The room went dead silent until I heard him sigh.

“I’m really sorry for everything.”

I waited until he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him before I took a deep breath. To be honest, I was sorry, too. We wouldn’t have gotten into this place if not for me using him all those years ago. But that was then, and between high school and now, so much shit had happened that it didn’t even matter. Not anymore. Jordan might have had a perfectly normal life if not for me. But what had Camilo once told me? “What if” was the mindset of a brainless idiot.

Jordan

The sickening thuds only grew louder, and scared, I crouched on the floor and covered my ears with trembling hands. It was still not enough, and my body flinched with each noise that passed through the thin walls. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I attempted to hush my sobs, to no avail.

When I called Mr. Rogers here… I didn’t think he’d do that. I thought he’d help Shay-Lee, not—

Smack.

My eyes snapped open, and I looked ahead. On the other side of the room, spread on the floor, was the body of that nice lady who worked for them. Now, she had a bullet hole between her eyes, which I knew she didn’t deserve. Unlike that other man, the one I shot, she was a good person, I was sure of it. After all, she’d been so kind to me for the past month I was staying at Mr. Rogers’s house. While Orson, I think that was his name, wasn’t a good man. Mr. Rogers had told me his worries regarding his personal assistant. He told me how he suspected Orson, the same as Diesel, was hurting Shay-Lee, and he was right.

Shit.

How did I get involved in this? When Mr. Rogers first called to ask about my well-being, I didn’t think it was anything more than an act of courtesy. Happy for his sympathy, I talked to him, and when he suddenly offered me to come back to LA and stay with him, I said yes. I said yes because he promised it was the only way I’d be able to win Shay-Lee back. Mr. Rogers said that he truly believed Shay-Lee still loved me, but he also told me that, unfortunately, Shay-Lee had got messed up with Diesel. Mr. Rogers claimed that he needed my help to save Shay-Lee from Diesel, but now… Now Mr. Rogers was the one hurting Shay-Lee, probably killing him. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to move.

The door opened and out walked Mr. Rogers. Since my leg was still injured, I used the wall for support and slowly got up. The entire time, my eyes focused on Mr. Rogers, who was using a handkerchief to wipe the blood from my crutch.

“There you go.” He handed it back to me.