Page 108 of Dissolving Prejudice

I quickly scanned the area, and just like I’d expected, all eyes were on us. Great. Ain’t no way I’d be getting my treat tonight.

“Nothing has been okay ever since he came back,” Jordan snarled, then moved closer to Shay-Lee. “Don’t you get it? He’s trying to get between us.”

“Get between you?” My brows scrunched up, and I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Please.” I snorted. “The only reason he was ever with you is because I wasn’t here.”

Saying I’d expected Jordan to punch me as hard as he did in the next moment would be a lie. Taken completely by surprise, I heard a loud crack before his lethal right hook sent me three steps backward. My body crashed against the bar, drinks spilling everywhere, before my ass hit the ground. My face throbbed, and blood started streaming down my nose. I think Shay-Lee had mentioned something about Jordan taking boxing classes like crazy, which explained how he completely knocked me to the ground with a single blow.

“Jesus, D, are you okay?” Andrei asked while trying to help me back up.

Not answering him, I brushed his hand away and got up myself. With my hand holding on to my bleeding nose, I looked straight ahead to see Jordan staring at me with his fist clenched, clearly ready for me to hit back. I could hear Shay-Lee’s and Soren’s voices over the pounding in my head. They were both concerned, as were the others, because they all knew hell was about to break loose. But then, right before I charged at Jordan, a sound reached me. A cry. And not just any cry—the cry of a child. Looking around, I managed to track Cyrus and June. They were both crying in their daddy’s arms, and seeing those tears streaming down their innocent faces sent me back to when I was a kid and my dad beat my mom. I’d never cried when he did that because I wanted to see him for the monster he was with clear eyes. Fearing having these two precious souls see me the same way I saw my dad was all that it took to calm me down, and finally, I answered Andrei’s question.

“Yeah, man, I’m fine,” I said with my eyes locked on Shay-Lee. “It’s just a little scratch.” The second I saw relief crossing his precious eyes, I felt… proud.

Shay-Lee

After he punched Camilo, Jordan fled the party. I didn’t want to go after him, yet I did, and only because I knew I had to put an end to this mess. While driving back home, I thought I’d be more nervous and anxious, but I wasn’t. It might sound harsh, but currently, instead of thinking about Jordan, my mind was occupied with Camilo and how he’d held back from returning the punch.

The Camilo of five years ago would have, without a doubt, gotten into a fight with Jordan. But tonight, he held back from doing so, and seeing him manage to restrain himself made me so damn proud I could cry.

Shit. I had actual tears in my eyes right now. How fucking pathetic. But knowing how much Camilo hated this rage he held within himself and how he struggled to contain it, the fact that he did it under such circumstances was everything. And I was happy because I could only imagine how proud he was of himself.

As I reached our driveway, I saw Jordan’s car parked next to the house, which was a good thing as I feared he might have gone someplace else. After parking my Bugatti, I got out and went straight inside, where I found Jordan sitting by the kitchen island with an open bottle of scotch next to him. He didn’t say a word, so I walked over there and, after grabbing a glass for myself, sat on the stool beside him. Taking the scotch, I poured myself a glass and then handed him the bottle. Still not speaking to one another, Jordan grabbed the liquor. He held it in his hand for a few moments before taking a swig. As he did, I also took a small sip, hoping it would give me some courage for the heavy conversation I knew we were about to have.

“You cheated on me, didn’t you?” he asked before I reached the bottom of my glass.

His question felt heavy, almost as much as my answer. Taking the last sip from my drink, I savored the burn of the alcohol before nodding.

“I did.”

Not saying anything, he returned the bottle to his lips and took a long gulp.

“For how long?” he rasped.

Clenching my glass harder, I twisted my lips, considering if I should lie or not, when I chose the truth.

“We first slept together in Thailand.”

He stayed silent.

From the corner of my eye, I could see his jaw tensing, and I pressed my lips together before looking at him. “I’m sorry, Jordan, I’m really sorry.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away.

“But you’re not.” He finally looked at me, his eyes red from crying. “You’re not sorry. You never have been. Not even a bit.” He hissed that last word and stood up from the barstool so quickly that it fell backward.

The sound of the metal hitting the floor startled me, and I looked down before my eyes darted back to Jordan, who now practically loomed over me.

“You were never sorry about anything you ever did to me.” He placed his hand on the counter while bending down so he was in my face.

His cologne, which I often found pleasant, was now suffocating, while the look in his angry eyes made me feel so small and vulnerable that my heart sank to my stomach, and I felt like puking the scotch I just drank.

“Jordan, I get that you’re mad, but can you take a step back—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he shouted.

Shocked by this outburst, I was left with my mouth open as he finally stepped away and turned his back to me.

“Just for once, I wish you actually cared about me, but you don’t.” He lifted the barstool from the floor and put it back in place. “You really don’t give a crap about me or anyone else because you’re a selfish son of a bitch.”

“I know that you’re mad, but you can’t speak to me like that.” I got up so he wouldn’t be the only one standing.