Page 144 of Forgotten Prejudice

“Last week, Jones Brown was attacked in a car hijacking. As you know, he came out of it with nothing but a few bruises.”

Jones Brown. The prosecutor who’d brought my sweet Ashton to tears.

“So that’s why he looked like a raccoon in court today,” I snorted, yet Daniel didn’t seem amused.

“If I find out you had anything to do with it, you will be fired, Soren.” This was the first time since I’d started working for Daniel that he’d said something of the sort. Over the years, I’d had my fair share of incidents that got us into high tones, but not once did it get to the point of him threatening to fire me.

“Well, good thing I had nothing to do with it, then. Right?”

Daniel studied me carefully before nodding. “You can go now,” he said.

I quickly stepped out, not risking another second in there. After all, I had a lot on my mind and didn’t plan to waste it on Jones, the moron.

“Yo, Dane!” Eiv called, catching me right as I was about to go into my office.

“What is it, Eiv? I’m busy,” I said impatiently, already walking to my desk.

“Well, you better make time for this.” He waved a folder in his hand. Usually, when he handed me new evidence, he seemed rather pleased. Not this time. The worry on his face only made me more eager to discover what that folder held.

“It had better be good.” I snapped it out of his hands.

“Remember that lead you asked me to follow a while ago? About Camilo and Shay-Lee’s visit to the hospital?”

A few weeks ago, Ashton had mentioned something about those two visiting the hospital after Shay-Lee was allegedly beaten by his father. I asked Eiv to look into it, just in case.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, good thing you did because this shit is nasty,” he hissed while I’d already begun reading.

The more I read, the harder it was to believe until I had to sit down. My heart rate increased, and nausea took over me, but I forced myself to finish reading. By the time I reached the last word printed on those damn papers, I was sure of two things. The first being that we’d just found the key evidence we lacked. The second was that Christian W. Rogers was a far worse monster than I had ever thought him to be.

“You’re such a pretty boy,” the man whispered through chapped lips. “Such a good, pretty boy.” His sickening voice danced around the dark room that smelled of rotten wood. “And you know what good boys do?” he asked, the reek of his hot breath fanning over my cheek. “Good boys keep their mouths shut.”

The door to the room opened, and I turned in time to see Camilo being brought in. The rustle of the handcuffs danced on my nerves, and I bit my lip until he sat down, and the noise stopped. Realizing I was sweating, I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed my forehead.

I waited for us to be left alone before sitting down on the chair across from him.

“How are you holding up?” I asked, not at all surprised when Camilo didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to stare at me with his intense, dark eyes. When I’d first met him years ago, he was just a troubled youth who’d shot a man in a fit of rage. I didn’t know what to make of those eyes then. But now, on our second time around, I did. They were the eyes of a man constantly on the brink of war. A fighter who’d fought far too many battles but was far from defeated. He was a tiger, a panther. A brutal beast locked in a man’s body, and it was scary. Yet, I also saw his humanity, the piece of his soul Shay-Lee had managed to touch. Only that part was now lying under rubble, making it far harder to reach.

Opening my briefcase, I pulled out the reason I’d come here for. Placing the folder between us, I waited for him to take it.

“What’s that?” he rasped, voice low, as he finally reached out a hand and grabbed the folder.

“It’s what’s going to get you out of here,” I said while he opened it.

Camilo glanced at me before he focused on the documents. Sitting quietly, I watched the tension slowly growing between his pinched brows, his jaw tensing and his head moving.

“What the fuck is this?”

“The report of the rape kit Shay-Lee took when you visited the hospital together last year,” I explained calmly despite the waves of repulsion clashing through me.

The lines around Camilo’s mouth tightened as he held his lips together, fury burning in his eyes. “Rape kit?” He hissed the words like a curse.

“My guy managed to get a handle on the nurse working that day. She said Shay-Lee agreed to take it while you went out to buy some things.”

He looked away from me, eyes back on the files. “That can’t be true.” He shook his head. “He was beaten that day… not—” He swallowed back whatever he was about to say, pain coating his words.

“He took it anonymously, but cross-checking the data confirmed that this kit belonged to him. Since he never pressed charges, the hospital just kept the results on file.”