Page 105 of Forgotten Prejudice

“I see,” he said under his breath before looking at me. “Promise me you’re going to get him out because if you don’t—” His voice shuddered, and he had to take a deep breath. “If you don’t, then I will never forgive you.”

My God, was he adorable.

Unable to hold back, I moved closer. His breath caught as he froze on the spot, but unlike what he probably thought I was about to do, I skipped over his lips and pressed my cheek to the side of his head, my mouth nearly brushing the shell of his ear. “Good. Because I never change my mind once it’s set. And right now, it’s set on winning.”

Kai

With my knife sharpened and sleeves folded, I went back to the cutting board and the onions waiting there for me. The kitchen was in full blast, my chefs working hard behind me in preparation for tonight. Taking a deep breath, I started chopping the onion. I focused on the repetitive task and the sound that followed until noises from the TV in the employees’ room reminded me why I tried distracting myself to begin with.

Brushing my eyes with the back of the hand holding the knife, I then put it down and dried my hands on the towel tucked into my apron before walking over to the sound source, not surprised to see a bunch of cooks staring at the TV.

“Just a few hours ago, the trial the whole country was waiting for began in Los Angeles Superior Court,” said the blonde female broadcaster. “In the center of this horrible case that shocked the state almost seven months ago stands Camilo Gómez, nineteen years old at the time, who allegedly shot to death Mrs. Rosa Rivera, sixty-two, and Mr. Orson Sandres, thirty-four, both of whom worked for the Rogers family. After fatally shooting them, the defendant then allegedly attacked Shay-Lee Christian Rogers, the only son of the multibillionaire philanthrope Christian W. Rogers. As of now, the victim’s condition has remained unknown, and the family asks for privacy. Rumors say that the eighteen-year-old victim had been in a coma for several weeks and hasn’t been the same since waking up.” As she continued to give more details of the case, a photo of Diesel appeared on the screen. They’d deliberately chosen an image that presented him in a bad light, one of him smoking in a nightclub. After that, they showed a series of photos of him from his earlier arrests while also repeating, again and again, about his criminal past. Not one word about how he’d been on the right path for the last few years and that he might be innocent.

“The defendant’s last chance is in the talented hands of his attorney, Soren Dane, who, worked with Mr. Gómez previously in one of his earliest trials. Back then, Mr. Gómez was sentenced to thirteen months in prison after shooting a man.”

Shooting a man? He shot his sister’s rapist, for God’s sake; how about mentioning that?

“Mr. Dane is known to be a fierce yet charming attorney who’s already broken the internet with his opening arguments in court earlier this morning. His speech reached social media, where he is now trending.”

The broadcast cut to the courtroom, where we saw a video replay. First, they zoomed in on Diesel, and it sucked seeing him sitting there with his hands cuffed, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His head was shaved, and he kept staring at his hands like a dead man. Instead of being let out on bail while waiting for his trial, Diesel was required to remain in jail. It was unjust, and for the past few months, only God knew what he suffered there. From the black eye he was sporting, along with a split lip, I didn’t dare imagine.

We knew nothing because he refused to speak to any of us, including his attorneys. Since he was taken into custody, his lips had stayed sealed, and his eyes remained dead. He was in a dark place, and knowing there was no way for me to help sucked. We were all desperate, begging for a bit of light in this ongoing hell, yet so far, we got none.

My sadness was replaced with pure wrath the second the camera shifted from Diesel to Soren.

“You called him?” I gaped at Ash’s straight face. “You actually picked up your phone and called that fucker?” I yelled, rage boiling my blood.

“He’s our last chance, Kai, and you know it.”

“Fuck that!” I screamed, slamming my fist into the wall. Ash flinched and stepped back, but it didn’t stop me. “You didn’t do it for Diesel but for yourself.” Spit flew from my mouth. “You wanted him to be here so you could rely on him. Like you always did.”

His eyes went wide with shock before a look of anger took over him. “Screw you for saying that! I called him because he’s the best, and we need the best.”

“We could have found someone else. There are many good lawyers out there.”

“No one is as good as him,” he said back, brows pulled close.

Freaked out with the idea that this man was going to be a part of our life once again, I gritted my teeth.

“How could you do that without asking me first?” I pointed at myself, fucking hurt because Ash telling me he called Soren only a few hours before this fucker was to arrive was a really shady move on his behalf.

“Why should I?” He shrugged. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me.”

“No. It doesn’t.” He looked so angry. “It only has to do with one person, and that’s Diesel.”

Hurt, I bit my lips. “But what about me, Ashy? Don’t you care how Soren’s being back might affect me?”

Ash’s jaw clenched before he shook his head and stepped back. “If you think, even for one second, that I’d prioritize your feelings over Diesel’s freedom, then you’re extremely wrong.”

We hadn’t fought that way in years, and since that day, things between us hadn’t been the same. Yeah, we still hung out and fucked once in a while, but Ash’s full attention was on Diesel. He apologized after that fight, but it didn’t matter because I knew he meant his words. They hurt. Knowing I wasn’t a priority fucking sucked, and this whole situation we’d found ourselves in was a nightmare.

“This isn’t a story of hate, but one of love.” Soren’s voice took me back to the TV, and I watched the reply the news showed. “A tragic story of love between two kids who shouldn’t have ever fallen for each other, and yet they did.” He walked around the courtroom as if he owned the damn place. With my fists clenched and pressed close to my sides, I continued watching. “And I know what you might think: this is the classic story of love that goes wrong, leading to a horrible crime of passion. Don’t get me wrong, this is a tragic love story, and crimes were committed, but not by Camilo.” Soren now stood close to the jury, with all eyes on him. “You might think that Camilo is the big bad wolf and that Shay-Lee is Little Red Riding Hood, but let me argue differently.” It was nearly impossible to take your eyes off him with his smooth speech and confident stance.

I hated it. I hated how good he was.

“Therefore, I ask you today to put aside your prejudices and examine this tragedy from a different perspective. Ask yourself, who else could be the wolf, and why would he want to take the hunter down, too?”