12. Athena
CHAPTER 12
Athena
OCTOBER 2022
I ’m not sure how I can know what I know and not share it with my siblings. I came home to try to talk to Papá, to make him say it, confirm it to my face but he’s out of town for work. And instead of having the house to myself, or spending the evening with Mamá, I’ve found the house crawling with smelly boys.
Okay, so they’re not smelly. But they all have their own apartments and the hockey house to live in. And yet, when I showed up here at home, there they were.
Sure, I have an apartment of my own, but at the moment, it’s not entirely my own. Savannah Banana is resting up at my place, and while she’s the perfect roommate right now—i.e. unconscious and quiet, minimal needs and noise, she also needs to rest to heal.
What she doesn’t need is my pacing back and forth wearing out the rugs in the apartment trying to process what I just discovered about my piece of shit father.
I thought with Ares being a freshman at UCR they’d all be there, at least for the first month or so, and yet… here we are.
Scott’s in the den, sprawled out on the couch watching Top Gun: Maverick, Artemis is in a recliner half-watching, half- scrolling on his phone. Ares is in the kitchen with Apollo making what sounds like a God-awful mess of things.
Maybe I should have stayed home with Vannah.
Nervous energy has my body shaking. It can’t be true, right? Papá may be a shrewd businessman, an asshole in the boardroom, but there’s no way he’s cheated on Mamá, right?
If he had, he wouldn’t have let me poke around in his office. It has to be a mistake. It just has to.
I needed my birth certificate to renew an expired passport, and who the fuck knew the can of worms I’d be opening when I walked into Papá’s office to find our personal documentation.
“It’s in the office, Mija,” he said. “Filing cabinet to the left of my desk,” he said.
What he didn’t say was that I’d find bank statements with a single monthly payment from an account in there. Gloria Aguilar. Not a company, not a random bank account number, a name. A woman’s name.
It wouldn’t be so bad if that’s all it was, but a quick search on social media brought up pictures of a beautiful woman, perhaps in her late forties, early fifties, smiling into the camera with a young man standing next to her.
I’d love to say I’m overreacting or seeing something that wasn’t there, but Alonso de la Pena’s genes are strong. And looking into the eyes of the guy Gloria’s caption calls Mathias, I’m damn near sure that young man is my half-brother.
I can’t tell the boys, especially not Apollo, Papá already puts so much pressure on him as the precious first-born penis in the house. But I need to tell someone, figure out what the fuck to do with the information burning through my insides.
A waving red vine catches my attention. “You wanna watch, Bright Eyes?” Scott knows what I like. I’d never say no to twisted red candy and a movie.
“Sure.” I walk around the couch and plop onto the cushion next to him, gratefully accepting the sweet which will hopefully keep my mouth busy enough not to spill my guts about the fact there’s another de la Pena sibling in the wild.
Cabrón.
Arrogante pedazo de mierda.
Did he think we’d never find out? That he’s so good at lying and hiding his indiscretions that no one would ever discover his secret? Is he paying Gloria for her silence? It wasn’t a small amount of cash, $100,000 per month being sent into her account. It’s not exactly a child support amount.
“You okay?” Scott side-eyes me, offering the open packet of candy my direction.
I ignore the heat of Artemis’s stare on the side of my face. “Yeah, just didn’t expect to come home and find all of you here.”
“Exterminator at the hockey house,” he explains as though that’s a good enough reason for them not to be at any of my brother’s apartments instead of here.
“You mean Mamá has a fully stocked fridge at all times, and the guys have conspicuously not done any grocery shopping in weeks, right?”
He throws me that lazy smile that makes my insides turn to mush. “Your mom makes such good food, this much is true.” He grins before patting his stomach.
There’s a crash of some kind in the kitchen, and we all look at each other in silence, waiting for the sound of screams or a confirmation all is okay. When all we get is more quiet, not another sound, Artemis slaps his palms on his thighs and stands, pointing at the door. “I’ll deal with…” He waves his hand. “That.”
I tuck my legs up under me, they’re in Scott’s direction, but the couch is so big our feet are still about a foot apart. There’s a deep and unhinged urge to brush my foot against his. I need comfort, someone to tell me that this clusterfuck will be okay, to even tell me that it’s all in my head.
Scott must sense something’s off with me, or maybe the fact I can’t sit still gives me away. He doesn’t pause the movie; he barely looks my direction, but he bumps his foot against mine. “Want to talk about it?”
I don’t answer him right away, instead I stare at where his foot is still against mine and allow myself a moment to just lean into it.
His foot is strong, warm, and pressing against mine to get my attention. It’s not the bear hug I’m in desperate need of, but it’ll do.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. If I speak out loud here, there’s every chance my brothers will overhear, or worse, Mamá’s housekeeper. Camila is good friends with my Abuelita, her daughter, Claudia works part time at our family restaurant Guac ‘n’ Roll. If the gossip tree got hold of this information—or worse, Abuelita—my father’s body would be found floating face down in the Cedar River.
“I can’t,” I whisper under my breath. “The walls have ears.”
He digs out his phone from his butt pocket and points at it. “Text me, Bright Eyes. Whatever it is has you jittery, if you need to get it out, I’m here.”
A surge of unexpected emotion brews inside me, and my eyes fill with unshed tears as a lump appears in my throat. I roll my lips between my teeth, afraid a single noise of dismay from me may have my bloodhound brothers appear demanding to know what’s wrong with me.
Athena: You sure?
Gizmo: Absolutely. Hit me.
Athena: Okay.
He waits patiently as I take some slow and steady breaths, willing the shaking in my hands to subside.
Athena: I think my father has had an affair.
He goes stiff beside me but doesn’t take his eyes off the TV. In the kitchen, there’s a clattering of pots and pans telling me my brothers, or at least one of them, is alive and well.
Athena: I found a man who I think is my half-brother.
Scott hisses out a slow breath. And when I study his profile, there’s a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Gizmo: I don’t really know what to say to that, Bright Eyes. I’ve always looked up to your dad as a role model. I mean, he’s a mean old bastard, but he’s got his finger on the pulse of business and has made himself quite the fortune.
He’s still typing as I read but his big toe is now stroking along the arch of my foot, providing me with a shred of the comfort I need in this situation.
Gizmo: What are you going to do?
His toe presses harder into the muscles of my foot drawing a guttural moan from me.
Athena: I wanted to talk to Papá while I was here, but he’s not. I’m not bringing it to Mamá until I know for sure, I don’t want to upset her. And I don’t want my brothers on death row for murdering our father either.
I heave out a sigh, unsure of what I’m going to do next.
Athena: I guess maybe go talk to Mathias. I think that’s what his name is. See if he knows who his father is.
Scott shifts in his seat.
Gizmo: I’m not sure I like the idea of you going somewhere like that alone, Bright Eyes.
Athena: I’ll be okay. What’s the worst that could happen? Papá has made them sign an NDA, and they can’t tell me anything?
He’s quiet for an awfully long time before he starts typing again.
Gizmo: I’m still not sold, but I’ll support you. I’ll take you there if you’d like.
His protective nature is heartwarming.
Athena: Thanks, but I don’t think I need a hockey playing heavy to scare the shit out of the kid.
Gizmo: Kid?
Athena: He looks maybe my age? I’m not sure.
Gizmo: Okay. Mum’s the word until we know more, but if you need anything, you call me, okay?
After another long silence hanging between us, he clears his throat. “Okay?”
I nod, nibbling on my bottom lip. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
He catches my eye. “You’re not alone in this, Athena.”
The way he says my name sends a delicious shiver slithering up my spine. As much as I love “Bright Eyes” as a pet name, when he does say my name, it always sounds like a prayer from his lips.
A few well-placed messages to one of my brother’s “investigative specialist” friends, under threat of his dismemberment if he breaches client confidentiality and squeals to my brothers later, and now, all I can do is wait.
And finish watching Maverick.
A few minutes later, the boys join us from the kitchen. As they all find space in the den, Scott lifts his leg and lets one rip. I don’t get a chance to react because Ares follows suit and pretty soon, all four boys are trying to out-do each other with farts and burps.
Fuck my life, I’m surrounded by children.
Scott farts again, this time looking straight at me while he does. “You not joining in, Bright Eyes?” His eyes dance with amusement and levity. Truth be told, it’s probably just what I need in this moment to distract me from staring at my phone waiting for an answer about where to find my half-brother.
I roll my eyes; a smile playing on my lips and slap his foot. “You’re a disgusting pig, you know that, right?” When I lean forward to reach for another red vine, I give him what he asked for and join the cacophony of gas echoing around the room.
I can’t say farting in front of the guy I’ve had a crush on since I met him is on my bucket list, but the joy on his face at me having added to the stink funking up the room was definitely worth it.
He scrunches up his lips, nodding his head. “Nice. I’d say a solid five out of ten.”
I gasp, clutching my hand to my chest. “That was at least a seven, Gizmo.”
He shakes his head right at the same moment Ares drowns out all noise with a fart that never ends.
Scott hooks his thumb toward my youngest brother. “That’s at least seven, Bright Eyes.”
There’s still no word from my PI contact by the end of the movie. Nor by the end of the next movie, either. I’d rather not be in my apartment with Savannah when I get the word of my dirty-little-secret of a half sibling, but I also need to be patient about people doing their job, too.
It’s the next morning over breakfast after a restless night before I get a reply, but it’s positive. My contact has found both the address of Gloria, and Mathias. Doesn’t hurt that I pay him three times his going amount to do what I need him to. It’s worth every penny to get the fast pass to the information I need.
It takes me a split second to decide to try the son first.
It’s a Saturday morning, most college aged kids are at home in their beds or working their weekend jobs, but it’s worth the chance.
Or at least it was until I found myself sitting outside his house, my leg bouncing in the footwell of the car. My stomach is flooded with unpredictable nerves, like raw, live wires bouncing and snapping toward each other in my gut, ready to ignite at any given moment.
I force myself out of the vehicle into the fresh air, compelling myself to breathe deeply but it doesn’t help the tightness at the base of my skull, or the throbbing in my temples.
Stepping up to his front door, I swallow the lump in my throat. Hesitating, I glance back at the car. There’s still time to flee the scene, no one has to know I was even here.
I inch toward the edge of the step I’m standing on, back to Mathias’s door as I debate bolting down the three steps and back to the safety and ignorance of my car. Except the door cracks open behind me, and now I’m no longer alone.
“Can I help you?”
I turn to face the male voice behind me, and his features slam into my chest like a freight train, stealing my breath from my body.
He stares at me for a long moment before tilting his head, narrowing his eyes to take in my appearance. I don’t reply, can’t, I’m trapped in just how much he looks like my brothers. He has Ares’s eyes, Apollo’s jaw, and Artemis’s floppy-long hair.
When I don’t reply, he huffs out an impatient sigh. “?Te puedo ayudar?”
I rub my clammy palms on my thighs and suck in a quivering breath. It’s now or never.