3. Diablos
Chapter three
Diablos
Past
This will either be the biggest mistake of my life or the most incredible thing, but for now, fuck these nerves that were driving me crazy.
I was sitting in the passenger seat of a stranger’s car, a man who would be my father from this day forward. Father - the word felt foreign on my tongue. I had never connected this word with good things. I doubted I ever would, but this man made me question if it could be possible.
Did I dare to believe I could have a loving family? I didn’t, not really. I'd had a broken family until I didn’t, and now I was supposed to accept a complete stranger’s family as my own? Easier said than done.
Yeah, life was not a fairy tale. Keep your hopes low, Di, I told myself.
“Alright, we’re here.” King’s voice boomed in the small space around us.
I could only stare at the monstrous house before me with my jaw on the floor. It looked more like a palace than anything else.
“I know it looks like too much, but I promise you, you’ll like it. Let’s get inside. Everyone will be waiting.”
I gulped and tried to stop my hands from shaking.
It was too bad my legs were also not cooperating.
Why the fuck was I so nervous? When King and I met, I didn’t expect him to adopt me.
I mean, who adopts a 17-year-old? I had accepted my fate the moment I was abandoned by my father, then uncle, and got into the system. Now, all of this felt just as surreal.
While I was frozen, King came to my side and opened the door. He outstretched his hand when I still hadn’t moved from my seat. I stared at it for far too long. It seemed like such a small gesture, but it tore me up inside. My eyes watered, and I averted my gaze, trying to regain composure.
Get a grip, Di! No crying!
King waited patiently. It took me a couple of minutes to even out my breathing before I took his hand. I expected to feel uncomfortable, but this stranger’s hand gave me strength in a way I never could have imagined.
When we neared the front door, he turned to me and asked, “Are you ready to see your home and your brothers?”
“Yep, I am.” As ready as I would ever be.
I didn’t have expectations. Literally, my mind was blank about what was coming. Okay, maybe I had imagined a few scenarios with mean brothers. However, I didn’t know what awaited me behind this mahogany door.
When the key turned and King entered the foyer, making space for me, I took one step inside – a step that felt more monumental than anything in my seventeen years. What the fuck? I wasn’t sure where this feeling came from.
I had little time to dwell on it since four guys encircled me like wolves ready to eat the sheep. If it wasn’t obvious, I was the sheep.
“Hiii, I’m Bren, your best brother. You’re Diablos, right? This is such a cool name,” the guy with a bubbly voice and a blinding smile said. Then he turned to King, “Why didn’t you name me like this? I like it. Can I change my name? But then we’ll have the same name.”
“No, you’re just one of the brothers. Don’t flatter yourself,” another one of the boys said to Bren before King could utter a word. He was way younger and smaller than everyone else, “I’m Luc, by the way.”
A guy who looked like the Hulk started speaking. “I’m Wilder, and I’m the oldest here, so if you have any problems, you can always come to me.” He touched my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Welcome to the family.”
The weight of his hand on my shoulder was reassuring in an unexpectedly warm way.
I was speechless, only staring at these guys’ smiles and warm welcome. I bet I looked like a deer caught in headlights.
The last guy stepped forward. He looked more reserved, which was comforting because I was the same.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Andras. Welcome to this big, crazy family.” He gave me a small smile, but everyone erupted before I could say anything.
“Hey, we’re not crazy.”
“We’re a bit crazy. I mean, look at how we welcomed our new brother.”
“No, we’re totally perfect.”
“Only you can describe yourself as perfect, Bren.”
“Thanks, big bro.”
King’s voice silenced them all while I tried to stop the laugh that was threatening to leave my lips, “Why don’t you go and show your brother around the house, and after that, we’ll have dinner.”
Before we took off, I should introduce myself. It would be rude otherwise, right?
I coughed and gathered all my courage before saying, “I’m Diablos, but everyone calls me Di. It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for the warm welcome.”
They all smiled at me before Bren took my hand and ushered me further into the house. The next hour was spent exploring the various parts of my new home. I was confident I’d get lost at some point. I’d need a GPS to survive here.
I was lucky Bren was talkative. Andras was the quietest of them all, but I understood him. Even though he was more reserved, I didn’t sense any hostility.
When the tour was over, we went to the dining room.
A big wooden table sat in the middle. A sumptuous feast was laid out before the eight seats around it.
I had never seen so much food in my life.
I couldn’t even name half of the things.
There was meat, different kinds of salads arranged in pretty ways, at least five types of cheese on a wooden board, some seafood too, and who knows what the other things were called.
When we sat down, everyone started to eat and chat like they didn’t have a stranger eating with them. They treated me like they treated each other. I got asked questions, but nothing too personal. It was awkward for me, but I made an effort because I could see all of them were genuine.
We were almost done eating when Bren screamed, making me nearly drop my fork.
“We forgot!”
“What?” King asked.
“To introduce how old we are!” before anyone could say anything, he continued, “So, I’m 17 years old.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Ooo, we’re twins then! Told you, I’m the best brother! When is your birthday?”
“It’s the 19th of December.”
“A winter child, well, I’m a summer child.
Mine is on the 20th of June. Anyway, Luc and I are the biological sons of King, but that has no meaning.
We’re all his children, and we’re brothers.
Luc is the youngest one. Wilder is the oldest and the first to be adopted.
He was adopted at the age of 5. Andras was adopted at 12.
And then there’s Dagon, who couldn’t be here today. He was adopted at 13.”
I had no idea why he switched to saying when they were adopted and not how old they were.
But, judging by his blinding smile, he was thinking about when his brothers came into his life – trying to comfort me that even though I was a teenager, some were also teenagers when they became part of the family.
Was this his way of telling me I wasn’t too late?
That it wasn’t too late for me to be their brother?
Would he remember today with the same fondness? Would I?
I looked around and did my best to stay open to the possibility. There was only one more brother I had yet to meet.
Dagon.
I wondered what he would be like.
I wondered what we all would mean for one another in a couple of years.