Page 158 of Dissolving Prejudice

Did he say… Gale?

“I’m sorry, boss.”

Boss. So he’s talking to… Dion.

Finally, the son of a bitch was here. After Oro left me alone, Gale came back, and everything since that moment was rather blacked out. All I knew was that it hurt, incredibly so, and that for as long as I stayed awake, I waited for Dion to show his face again. Knowing now was probably my last chance to meet the fucker, as I could feel my body giving up, I shifted in the chair.

“Y-you k-killed…” My mouth didn’t move the way I wanted it to. “H-him.”

“Did he say something?” one of them asked.

“It sounds like it, boss.”

My head was yanked back, and the man holding me got closer until I could actually see who it was.

“What was it that you just said?” Dion asked.

“Y-y-you…” My breath shuddered. “K-killed h-h-h—” I succumbed to the pain and lost grip of what was happening.

“The fuck is he spitting, Gale?”

“You killed him.”

“What?”

“That’s what he’s saying, boss: you killed him.”

“Who did I kill now?” Dion snarled.

Shay-Lee. He killed Shay-Lee.

Unable to hold my head up, I took a deep breath. “S-Shay-L-Lee.” His name came out of my mouth in a whimper of pain, but I still managed to say it right before it all turned dark again. The next time I woke up, the room was a bit brighter.

Is it already daylight?

“Good, he’s awake again,” a voice spoke before someone crouched in front of me and cupped my face.

I winced in pain.

“Are you ready to finally talk?” Dion asked, a cigarette tucked between his lips.

I felt thirsty, so fucking thirsty, so I parted my lips to ask for a drop of water. But words didn’t come out, and instead, I made a sound that resembled an animal taking its last breath.

“What is it… oh, you want one?” Dion took the smoke out of his mouth. “Well, you should have just asked for it.” He put the cig between my lips.

It slipped right away.

“How would you smoke when you can’t even hold the cigarette?” he grunted, picked the cig up, and put it back in my lips, only for it to fall again. After a few more unsuccessful attempts, Dion gripped my jaw in his palm and forced it closed so the cigarette wouldn’t fall.

“For fuck’s sake, Gale, I’m going to get you beat up for this. He can’t even keep his fucking head up,” Dion complained while holding the lighter to my face.

A few sparks lit the air before the cig caught fire, and Dion smiled.

“That’s it. Now, be a good boy and take a deep breath,” he said, pressing his hand to my mouth, the cig tucked between his fingers so I’d take a puff.

Smoke filled my lungs, and I immediately coughed into his palm.

Dion withdrew his hand with the smoke while I continued coughing. My abdomen hurt with each cough as if something was clinging to my lungs, and when I saw blood was coming out, too, my body froze.