Page 146 of Dissolving Prejudice

I snorted. “Then you should have thought about gagging me, moron.”

The car made a sharp turn to the right, and since I was tossed on the floor with my hands tied, I just rolled with the other stuff that was thrown in the back. We hit a bump that made everything jump, including myself, and something hit my head.

“Watch it, will you?” I barked as I continued to roll in the back of this stupid-ass van. Finally, the road stopped being so damn bumpy, and I managed to move into a sitting position.

“What did you even inject me with?” I opened and closed my hands in an attempt to stretch my fingers. “It’s like my muscles turned into Jell-O.”

“Something that clearly didn’t do the job, as you’re awake.”

“When will it completely wear off?”

“You think I care?”

“I do!” My head throbbed with anger. “My legs feel weird.”

“Good,” he bit back.

“What do you even want from me?”

“I want you dead. Duh.”

Once again, I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Yeah, I’d already gotten that. But why? And if you say it’s because you want Camilo for yourself, just know it’s pathetic—”

“Shut it!” he shouted, his voice cracking in the end.

Would you look at that, it seemed like I hit a nerve. “You know it won’t work, right? Killing me won’t miraculously make him tolerate you, asshole.” I snorted. “I mean, if it didn’t happen in the past few years, it won’t happen now. If anything, killing me would probably have the opposite effect. Instead of falling for you, my man would kill you—”

“Your man, huh?” He locked eyes with me through the rearview mirror. “You still dare to call him that after last night?”

My breath caught at the same time my throat tightened at his words, and horrified, I watched a smile forming on his face.

“Like I said, I know everything about you, mister, including how you treated him last night. You don’t deserve him; you never did, and the only way he’ll learn that will be the hard one. But don’t worry, cupcake. I’ll be there to hold his hand and warm his bed through his grief until he realizes I’m the one.”

Bitterness clawed at my insides, and I found it hard to breathe. While I wanted to blame it on the drug that ran through my blood, I couldn’t. What twisted my gut was shame and regret and nothing more, because despite being a lunatic, Oro had a point—I didn’t deserve Camilo. Especially after last night. Pressing my lips together, I looked down at my shoes when I realized something.

“Wait… Are you the one who left me that flash drive?” If he knew about the cemetery, then he probably was the one who planted the envelope on my desk. It was probably his plan to separate us. Oro’s lack of answer was enough of a confirmation, and furious, I took a deep breath. “You did, didn’t you? Was that the best plan your little brain managed to come up with, hoping it would break us apart? Well, let me tell you something, darling. It didn’t fucking work,” I hissed when he suddenly hit the brakes, and I was sent forward.

I fell face-first, so now I was facing the floor of this damn van, which I doubted was ever cleaned before.

“It sure didn’t look that way,” he snorted after the car started moving again.

“Then you clearly don’t know us.” I rolled to my back. “We might do crazy shit to each other, but we always come back to one another. Always.” Closing my eyes, I imagined the moment Camilo and I would finally meet after this chaos was over. All I knew was that I’d bury myself in his embrace and kiss the hell out of him.

Opening my eyes, I looked ahead and focused on Oro’s back. “You got that, you little shit? Camilo would never give up on me, and I will never give up on him.”

The car came to a sudden stop that shook me a bit before Oro unbuckled himself and got out.

“Where you going—” I was cut off by the slam of the door.

Worried, I stretched my neck and looked outside the windows. It didn’t help, as they were completely tinted. Shit. Sitting here in the dark, utterly useless, made my nerves go wild. And when Oro slid open the van’s door and climbed inside? Fuck. My heart galloped in my chest.

I thought this was the moment where he’d pull the gun and finish the job when, instead, he grabbed something from the back of the car and stepped outside. He then climbed in again and repeated the same action while I just watched him unloading shit from the damn car. Running out of patience and lives to spare—because despite Camilo calling me a cat, I didn’t have nine fucking lives—I spoke. “Let’s just talk it out, okay? I’m sure we can solve it. How about I give you some money?”

“I don’t need your money,” he said, then grabbed a duffle bag from the back of the van.

“Are you sure? I’ve got lots of it.”

Ignoring me, he got out for a couple of seconds before climbing back in. This time, he reached for me. I attempted to fight back with the little strength I could gather, only it wasn’t enough, and his thin ass managed to flip me to my stomach.