CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When the sun finally rises and the birds are chirping, Toro and I have already been awake for an hour or two. I was reading that book to him, the romance one. He absolutely loves it, and whenever they do anything he insists we do it too.
Which is why we’re currently on our way to the kitchen, wooden floorboards creaking with each heavy step Toro makes. He might be cute but he sure is loud. Either way we finally make it only to see Lucio sitting there with a mug of coffee.
With baggy sweatpants and a white t-shirt, he must be absolutely exhausted, looking up at us with disinterest painted all over his face. “Mornin’.”
“Hi,” I reply while Toro keeps himself glued to my side. We shuffle over to the fridge, and I take a few eggs from the basket while Toro grabs himself an apple.
He bites into it, and only after a split second does he shove it in my face as some sort of offering. I chuckle softly and take a bite, before turning my attention to the stove.
It’s one of those big scary old stoves, with knobs so old they’ll probably pop off if I’m too rough. I hesitantly twist one, watching the flame jump before immediately calming down. Toro already has a pan ready, setting it down atop the element.
“Thanks,” I say while Toro drops a slice of butter down, immediately sizzling up when faced with the intense heat. We go through the motions of making some simple scrambled eggs, working surprisingly well together.
It’s not the first time we’ve done this, so it makes sense that we sort of got used to each other’s kitchen habits. Not that I had many to begin with, I used to survive off of food delivery and iced coffee.
I catch a glimpse of Lucio eyeing us, but he immediately turns away as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Once everything is done we take a seat at the little breakfast table, the blue and white tablecloth having seen better days.
“So y’all just in love, then?” Lucio asks, voice laced with something that almost sounds resentful. “Don’t know how you wake up next to that mug every damn morning…”
Toro and I look at each other. He doesn’t seem upset, giving me his signature dopey grin. He knows that I love waking up next to him in the morning, no matter what anyone says. We instinctively move closer, sharing a chaste kiss.
Our spectator makes a loud fake puking noise, rolling his eyes bitterly. “Okay, I get it. M’bad.”
I let Toro pull me into his lap, feeding him a spoonful of eggs before turning my attention back to Lucio. “Are you… jealous?” The question comes out hesitantly, because I’m not trying to have him lunge across the table.
“No!” He raises his voice but not in a threatening way, in fact I’m pretty sure he’s blushing. Dark freckles adorn his cheeks, his skin uneven from all the time spent in the sun. “It’s just annoying! Watchin’ y’all act all… lovey with each other.”
An apology would probably do good but I don’t know how genuine it’d be when Toro has an arm wrapped around me while I sit on him. It doesn’t matter anyway, because Mr. Tavera enters the kitchen and I instantly want to run back to the bedroom.
He has on a red fuzzy housecoat that hides his arms since the stained undershirt he has on definitely wouldn’t. His facial hair seems a little more untamed than it had been before, and when he sees us his lips immediately thin.
“Toro. Nico.” He tries out cordiality but it sounds so fake coming from him.
“There’s, um, eggs.” I motion to some of the leftovers from earlier. “You can… have them. If you want.”
Mr. Tavera squints at me in distrust, but grabs a fork and takes a bite anyway. He’s definitely pleased, even if his face barely changes when he swallows them down. “So… you’re one of them… girly types, huh?”
“What?”
The man gets frustrated when I don’t understand him. “You know? Dressin’ like that… workin’ in the kitchen… You’s not much of a man, are you, boy?”
Toro’s arm feels tighter, pulling me up as far as he can against my chest. I think he’s trying to comfort me but I feel like I’m about to get folded in half.
“I… I don’t know.” It’s the only words that cross my mind. I’ve never really worried about that stuff, at least not until now.
“Ain’t all bad, I s’pose.” He says thoughtfully, eating the rest of the eggs. “Alma could use the help… plus you ain’t gonna be gettin’ pregnant anytime soon.”
Lucio sputters out a laugh, choking on his drink with the widest smile on his face. I can’t even dignify something that disgusting with words, so I just shake my head and do my best to ignore him.
“I’m askin’ for a reason,” he adds. “If yer’ gonna stay you gotta earn your keep.”
That’s not unreasonable, not at all.
“You want me to… help out?”
Mr. Tavera nods. “Uh-huh. We’ll put ya on somethin’ easy, somethin’ even Toro can do. He’ll do a good job at trainin’ you. Won’t you, boy?”
The way he talks to his son makes my skin crawl. Treating him like an animal is just so wrong. Being spoken down to isn’t anything new to me, I’m used to that. But his treatment of Toro makes me feel so gross. Toro lets out an affirmative grunt and kisses the side of my head.
“Perfect,” the man says while grabbing the coffee pot. “Then you can help care for the animals. Girly shit.” I open my mouth to reply but get cut off when he decides to keep talking. “Just don’t get attached. Lord knows you ain’t long for this world.”
Both Toro and I freeze.
“What… What do you mean by that?” I ask hesitantly, voice barely louder than a whisper.
“I mean Toro’s gonna get bored eventually.” He says matter-of-factly. “Boy don’t know how to control himself. Probably kill ya and then cry about it.”
His laughter isn’t what I really focus on next. It’s the soft whimper from behind me, or the way Toro’s grip on me loosens. We sit unmoving for a minute, just frozen in time before Toro nudges me off and practically races out of the room.
I don’t even care about being left alone with the rest of the family right now. All I can think about is the look on Toro’s face. It was just like when I tried to escape, all devastated and weak.
“Toro…!” I call, but my legs won’t move. It feels as though they’re planted in the ground, sinking further and further.
Mr. Tavera groans, turning back to the window while bringing the mug to his lips.
The exasperated sigh he lets out says more than words could, it’s expected—maybe even typical.
My legs finally get the memo to get out of there and I retreat back to his room, only to stop when I see Damien standing outside.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”