Broken Walls

6. Teach Me

The cacophony of the busy street faded away as Shawn laid eyes on Alenjandro Cabello in the flesh for the very first time. From the amount of ominous words and inflection whenever anyone mentioned his name, Shawn expected something more foreboding, large, fear inducing. Instead, before him stood a man no taller than himself and a build smaller than his. There was no outward definition of strength visible. He looked, on the surface, to be just like any other businessman one could encounter on the street. Same stiff, pretentious posture, same smooth, uncalloused hands, and same stern "I-know-everything-so-don't-try-to-school-me" look on his face. To the untrained and unobservant, he looked harmless. But Shawn saw the threat plainly in the recesses of his dark brown eyes.

Behind the dark chocolate pools, he saw the absence of conscience. The ability to destroy life, whether it be by death or other means, without further thought. Thinking back, he'd noticed a glimmer of that in the eyes of his son as well. Shawn's fists clenched at his sides as he tried to hold back his instinct to push Camila behind him. Not only because he felt the overwhelming need to protect her from this man, but because he wasn't supposed to even know who he was, let alone that he was dangerous. But that didn't mean he wasn't keeping careful watch.

His eyes locked on Alejandro's. The man gave no hint as to his feelings toward Shawn being there, he just simply stared back. Dark meeting light brown across the space between them. Out of the corner of his vision, Shawn saw Camila fidget and then step forward. He wanted to reach out and draw her back, but he kept his hands firmly fixed to his sides.

Camila sighed. "Sorry, Papa, I forgot."

Shawn cringed. Hearing her call him "Papa" was like a knife slicing through his skin. The thought that this man had any part in creating this girl made Shawn sick. He knew, without even the slightest doubt, that Camila had no idea what unspeakable things her father had done—or had allowed to be done. For all intents and purposes, Alejandro kept his hands clean, but he was instrumental in ordering and setting up many unsavory acts.

Alejandro's gaze flickered between Camila and Shawn, his brows pinching together as he tried to figure out who Shawn was. Knowing he was about to be dismissed, Shawn reached into his pocket while moving forward. He leaned into Camila, his mouth at her ear while his eyes stayed on Alejandro. Lifting his hand, he touched the back of her neck and the very edge of the collar of her jacket, slipping a small device under the fold.

"I'll be just inside," he whispered, trying to let her know she wasn't alone, but giving her the space she wanted, even though it went against all his instincts. As much as everything in him screamed to stay right there, he knew Alejandro wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything out in the open like this. Even so, if he did, it wouldn't take Shawn long to get there.

Camila glanced up at him, a small smirk on her lips. Nothing about the way she held herself, or the look in her eyes, suggested she felt intimidated in the least by her father. "Sure thing, Shawn. Thanks for the ride."

He wanted to say something smartassy, but decided against it. Not because he gave a flip about her father standing there, but because he didn't feel like being an ass to her at the moment. Instead, he winked and walked toward the club. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure they weren't watching, he slipped into the shadowy doorway and retrieved the earpiece from his jacket pocket. After looking around for prying eyes, he placed it discreetly in his ear. It was small and fit just so it was nearly undetectable.