1. Diablos
Chapter one
Diablos
Another day, another boundless search for an escape.
I didn’t sleep much last night, but the day was here, and it wouldn’t wait for me. I hurriedly changed into the first clean clothes I found. Grabbing my Kindle and backpack, I made my way to the kitchen. The house was quiet, and I was grateful for that. I preferred to spend my mornings alone.
I was itching to escape the prison of my mind, so I opened my Kindle to read. Reading was my sweetest escape. I especially loved losing myself in love stories. I was currently reading a contemporary age-gap romance. What could I say? From time to time, I loved my books a bit taboo.
I made some coffee, added coconut milk, and groaned at the divine taste.
Coffee would be my support and the elixir that kept me awake today.
Grabbing my cup and Kindle, I moved to the couch close to the open window overlooking the garden in our backyard.
The delightful fragrance of the flowers drifted in on the summer breeze, and I closed my eyes for a second, trying to ground myself to the present.
Our garden was full of daylilies, orange and striking red cockscomb, honeysuckle, orange star flowers, and others I didn’t know the name of.
I was not fond of flowers in general. So how did I know the names?
Well, my father was obsessed with this garden and always talked about it.
Personally, my favorite one was cockscomb.
It had nothing to do with its name. Absolutely nothing.
I had a few more minutes to waste, so I returned my attention to my book. I was halfway through, and it was getting intense. Of course, I was interrupted when I got to the most exciting part. Why did this always happen?
I heard footsteps coming from the hall and stiffened. I knew who was coming before I even saw him.
Dagon entered and immediately focused his stern gaze on me. Of everyone, it had to be him, didn’t it? The air was palpable with tension. We hadn’t exchanged a single word so far. Then again, words weren’t necessary for the storm between us to charge the air with animosity.
Dagon was wearing his typical attire: a black T-shirt and black jeans.
I swear this guy didn’t know any other colors besides black.
His hair is dark curls, unruly and thick, the kind that never quite obeyed a comb.
It gave this moody asshole an even better bad-boy vibe.
One strand almost reached his eyes, like even his hair refused to behave, and an unexpected desire flowed through my body to reach out and brush it away.
He has beard now, something he didn't use to have in the past. I won't admit out loud that it suits him.
With his dark hair and smoky gray eyes, Dagon looked like a predator ready to strike anyone in his path.
His distinct gloomy aura enveloped the space between us, and as always, that antsy, unsettling feeling crept in the moment we shared space.
He still had this kind of effect on me. I wished he didn’t.
“Are you reading more of your crazy books?” His gaze traveled from my Kindle to my eyes.
I would never give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me. I plastered on an easygoing smile and answered with the same cold voice he gave me, or at least I tried to.
“Yes. But the only crazy one here is you.” The moment the words fled from my lips, I winced. Fuck. I hated using the word crazy, and usually, I didn’t. This proved Dagon brought out the worst of me.
“Oh, little brother, didn’t know you could joke,” he retorted.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m part of the family, you know? I wasn’t aware I was forbidden from coming home now.”
“Why are you here?” I repeated.
Dagon rarely came to our father’s house.
When I say rarely, I mean only on birthdays and holidays.
Even then, it was not guaranteed. Seeing him again after such a long time made me uncomfortable.
It was not like him to talk with me unless we were trapped in a room or he wanted to fight.
Otherwise, he preferred to ignore my existence, and I preferred to stay away from him and the feelings he ignited in me.
“Father sent me.” Something changed in his demeanor. “He is calling a family meeting tomorrow.”
My insides churned when I heard his words. Somehow, I found my voice and asked, “Why a family meeting?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dagon.” My voice was like a warning. A warning that wasn’t going to register for him. I knew better than this.
“I said I don’t know! He said everyone must stay home tonight, and we will talk tomorrow. So, I guess we will have quality time together as brothers.”
Yeah, right. Like you ever want to spend time with the rest of us. That was excluding Andras, of course. A voice in my head screamed he wasn’t like that before, and the same fucking ache settled deep in my gut.
Before I could say anything else, he stormed out of the room, and I was left feeling both relieved and furious.
Why would Dad call a family meeting? He only did it when something serious happened. Did someone get hurt? What if one of my brothers was in an accident? No, he wouldn’t wait to call a meeting to tell us. Right? Did he go bankrupt? No, it couldn’t be that either. Oh my God, was he sick?
All kinds of scenarios played in my head. Each one was worse than the last. What ifs kept playing in my mind. My thoughts kept racing, and I couldn’t stop them, so I started playing with my ring, turning it once, twice, three… seven times.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. It had to be right.
I needed to do it right, or the worst would happen. The intrusive thought popped into my mind unwelcome. Fuck. I twisted my rings repeatedly until I lost the numbers and the small hold of my sanity.
Defeated and overwhelmed by fear and dread, I settled back in my seat by the window with a heavy thud. The view of the plants gently rustling in the wind was comforting. If only comfort could reach the depths of my mind’s storm. My hands started to shake, and my breaths became shallow.
I told myself to calm down, breathe in, then out.
I did this for a couple of minutes, and things only worsened.
Breathing techniques, my ass, more like - "how to exacerbate your nervous breakdown in a few seconds." Whoever said these breathing techniques worked was clearly a damn liar. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true; sometimes, they helped, but now they were useless.
Try again. Inhale, exhale.
I focused on breathing in for four seconds, holding for a bit, then breathing out for six seconds. After a few minutes, I calmed down. My hands no longer shook, and I was back in the present, not in the storm’s center.
It was enough for now. It had to be, since it was all I had. When I looked at my phone to check the time, I cursed. Shit. I was going to be late for class. Entering an already packed room while the professor was speaking was the last thing I wanted or needed.
I grabbed my backpack and ran toward the door. As I pivoted around the corner between the living room and the hall, I came face to face with Bren and Wilder.
“Can you give us a ride today, Di?” Bren asked before I could greet them.
“Bren, why won’t you use your car? I’m already late.”
There was no way I was giving them a ride. If I did, I may as well skip my classes. Skipping didn’t sound so bad when I thought about it.
Bren looked at me like my words had taken a physical form and slapped him across the face.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. He could be a drama queen sometimes.
If I had to describe him, I would say he was sassy, over-the-top, and dramatic.
A troublemaker and an adventure seeker, who always made everyone laugh.
He was also one of my best friends and my brother.
Thoughts about my class were forgotten as I observed my brothers.
Wilder looked… well, wild. His name was very descriptive regarding his looks but not so much his character.
He had long auburn hair that reached his shoulders.
It was messy today, and his piercing eyes, one blue, one brown, added a touch of wildness and beauty.
He was the most muscular and well-built of all of us.
If Wilder was autumn and winter, Brenton was summer. Bren had light blond hair, and his eyes were a warm blue. He had the physique of a swimmer with broad shoulders and a lean body.
“Bren, stop torturing our little brother and just go with me. We have stuff to do.” Wilder just shook his head and gave me a quick apologetic look.
“Little!?” The astonishment in Bren’s voice made me laugh out loud. “Little!? He is the same age as me!”
“Yes, yes, I know, but his birthday is after yours. Thus, you’re the bigger brother.” Wild looked at me, and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he was screaming for help. “We’re going. See you later, bro.”
Bren had other plans because he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned into me. Luckily, I was as fit as he was, or I would have fallen with how he was leaning most of his weight onto me. He started blabbering before I could ask what he was doing, and I had trouble catching his words.
“Our dad is calling a meeting tomorrow, and everyone is forced to sleep here tonight. So, I was thinking, let’s do a game night?” He started bouncing in one place. “What would you say? It has been so long since we’ve done it. No, yes? You know it’s a yes. We’re doing it.”
I chuckled at his one-sided decision, but the smile quickly faded from my face. Before, we used to have a game night once a month. All of us would gather in the house, have fun, sometimes drink, and other times fight. I missed those times.