Guarded (Calavera Hotels #3)

Prologue - Nero

8 YEARS OLD

M y little feet hit the ground below me as the leaves crunch beneath me. I didn’t have time to put on shoes. Tala said it was time to go. She said we had to be quick for the plan to work, so I keep up despite the cold and wet ground slowing me down. The distance between us grows, and the darkness becomes too much.

“Tala!” I cry out, and she slows her pace to wait for me, letting out a long sigh when she sees the distance between us.

I always slow her down. I rush forward, eager to reach her because I know I'll be okay once I get to Tala. The darkness won’t be as dark because my big sister will protect me. I reach her, and she places her hand in mine, pulling me with her as my feet shuffle to keep up. We can’t wake the bad thing.

My sister loves me. She’s the only person I know who, without a doubt, loves me. Her steps are quick but light as we navigate the darkness. I shut my eyes and let her lead me to the Treehouse. Our shallow breaths and the crunching of the leaves drown out the fear surrounding us.

“Bilisán mo!” Tala says, yanking my arm with force. Hurry up .

I open my eyes and smile when I see Charlie has caught up to us. His little legs fight against the wind, but I knew he would come with us. He was my mother’s dog, but she hated him. Called him names, hit him, and forgot to feed him. Everything she did to Charlie was nothing she hadn’t done to her own children.

We keep running toward the Treehouse. Our place of refuge when the bad thing came out. Another gift from our father to make up for his absence in our life. I missed Tatay . Tatay, our father, Benigo Dizon, would leave for months on end for work. When he would return, he would shower my sister and me with gifts.

He was the closest thing we knew to Santa Claus since Santa passed by our house on Christmas. Angels passed by us too, or at least that’s what Tala says because when my mom starts hurting us, the angels Tatay claimed protect us were nowhere to be found.

At eight years old, I had already caught on to my mother’s facade. Only in our father’s presence would she acknowledge us as her children. We went along because it was the only time we knew we didn’t have to fear her. The moment he left, though, the bad thing would return. Her gentle caresses to our cheeks when Tatay was around would turn cold in his absence—more than cold—they would turn violent.

Tatay wasn’t just the center of her world- he was the only thing in her world. Evangeline Dizon cared only about her husband and nothing else. Her eyes would light up whenever she talked about him. They had met in an English second language class here in Houston. Tala and I were half Mexican and half Filipino. Our parents’ broken English allowed them to communicate and fall in love. A love that Evangeline could only extend to her husband.

When he started traveling for work, she became lonely. She had children in an attempt to secure his return to her. She had Tala believing he would spend more time at home. The plan worked briefly, but he was gone again when Tala went to kindergarten. That’s when Tala said the bad thing was born. Evangeline hated Tala for being a girl. She was convinced that Tatay would have stayed if Tala was a boy. I’m sad to report that was not the case. I was just another failed attempt. Tatay would not slow down his travels for anyone or anything.

She was stuck with children she didn’t want and a man she loved more than anything. A love that drove her to the maddening thoughts that made her hate us. In his absence, she questioned whether he returned for us or because he loved her. She told us we were what made him leave. We failed to put on the performance.

Every visit, she would try harder, dress up, make exquisite meals, buy new house décor, and even pretend to love us. She hated the attention he gave us but played along with the narrative that we were all happy when he was home.

I played along too with the performance. For a brief moment, it felt real to me. When she would call me Mijo and caress my cheek. I loved that version of her. It didn’t last long, though. The moment he left again, we were useless to her. Pedazos de mierda, as she calls us. Pieces of shit.

Her transformation back to the bad thing always began after he left. She would cry and throw herself at him, beg him not to go. Then Evangeline would lock herself in her room and play her mariachi music loud. The concert in her room would last anywhere from three to ten days. Even the way she rotated her songs indicated where she was mentally. Tala had it down to a science.

“When she starts playing Lucha Villa, we stay out of her way,” Tala warned.

It was Lucha’s song “ Se Me Olvido Otra Vez” that sent her into a rage. He forgot me again. She would come out of the room and raid the cabinets for liquor. If Lucha Villa is what sent Evangeline over the edge, then Jose Cuervo is what pushed her.

Sometimes, I would watch her during the transformation. My mother was a beautiful woman. Wherever she went, men complimented her, but there was always something frightening about her eyes. It was as if these were her real eyes, and she put on the other ones to fool people so they didn’t know about the bad thing.

“Bilisán mo!” Tala whispers in a frustrated tone.

I do my best to keep up with her. Her hand holding mine tight in hers. I’m relieved when I see the treehouse in front of us. I grab Charlie and secure him in the front of my coat jacket while I climb up the ladder. Tala follows behind me.

“I’m gonna killer her for this!” Tala swears.

Anger flashes over Tala’s face. Her hand reaches out to touch the newest bruise on my cheek. She takes a deep breath and relaxes her face before bringing me in for a hug.

Tala grabs the frozen popsicles out of her backpack and hands me one. Charlie sniffs around the clubhouse to see what he can find to eat. I place the cold popsicle to the bruise and hiss when it touches the painful bump. Tala and I knew all the tricks to hiding bruises, cuts, and cigarette burns from when we became Evangeline’s human ashtrays.

Even Evangeline was an expert at hiding our bruises in case my father or the school became curious. It was summer, though, and summer meant father was guaranteed to be gone longer. School was no longer our sanctuary. I had already noticed mom’s blank stares and trips to the corner store for Jose Cuervo had become more frequent. The bad thing was coming.

Tonight was the night of Tala’s big escape plan. For weeks while our mother slept, Tala would go over the plan. She came up with a plan after my father’s last unexpected return. He had gifted her a cellphone and put his number in it. The gift made Evangeline boil with anger. As soon as it was just the three of us again, she took the phone and used one of her designer belts to lash out on Tala. Between Tala’s recovery and Evangeline’s spiraling, we had to buy time until we could get the phone back.

“You remember the plan, Nero?” Her eyes are focused on mine. I shake my head up and down.

“I wait right here until you come back,” I say through chattering teeth. It was freezing in the Treehouse, and the popsicle didn’t help.

“That’s right. I won’t be long.”

The one thing I hated about this plan was how long I would have to stay and wait in the treehouse.

Alone.

In the cold.

Waiting for Tala to return.

Tala’s plan needed to work. I run over it again in my head. I would wait for Tala here while she rode her bike into town. Then she would call the cops and tell them about Evangline keeping up in the hot shed all summer. Tala said they would call my father and arrest the bad thing .

“Okay, Nero. Wait here,” she instructs, buttoning her jacket and pulling the hood over her head.

I watch her disappearing down the ladder. Charlie cuddles next to me, and I’m grateful for the warmth. My tummy grumbles. A reminder that I hadn’t had a decent meal in days. Ignoring the hunger pains in my lower belly, I rest my head on the wall and shut my eyes. I dream of hot meals and reuniting with Tala and my dad. Dreams where I am happy and safe. But the peace doesn’t last long.

A sharp pain erupts in my stomach. I open my eyes to find dark ones staring back at me. They’re not the kind ones I was waiting for. These eyes are scary—t he bad thing .

“Wake up you son of a bitch!” Evangeline yells.

My spine stiffens at her voice, but it’s too late. Pain explodes in my stomach, and my arms shoot down to comfort myself. She pulls her leg back. A warning that I better sit up before she strikes again.

My heart beats so loudly in my ears. Desperately, I try to look for Tala.

“Help.” I cry when Evangeline strikes again.

I don’t know what’s happening. Had the plan failed? I look out the Treehouse window and see the embers of a fire igniting in the distance. Another one of Evangeline’s fallen cigarettes again?

“You wanted to burn me alive?” Evangeline screams. She repeats her question several more times before her fists fly at me. I put my hand over my head so it doesn’t hurt as bad, but she doesn’t stop.

“Where is she?!” Evangeline screams.

Hot tears flood down my cheek. Their salty taste familar to me. Tatay says boys don’t cry, but I can’t help it. Tala is gone. The bad thing is here, and the plan has failed.