1. Santiago
SANTIAGO
“Fuck,” I grunted, throwing the tie I’d been trying to put on for the past ten minutes on my bed.
Tapping the floor with my shoe, I considered what to do when the alarm on my phone rang.
I picked it up, ignoring the cracks on the screen that needed to be repaired, and turned it off.
Needing to leave or I’d be late, I passed on the tie and left my room.
Walking down the narrow hall to our kitchen, I could see into my little brother’s room as he kept his door open.
To no surprise, he was in his bed, his girlfriend sleeping next to him, both of them mostly naked.
Great.
With a sigh, I moved on to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee before leaving, only to find the mess my brother and his girlfriend had left behind.
“Fucking assholes,” I muttered. Last night, before I went to sleep, I made sure to clean the place, and now, it looked like a storm had blown through there.
Not having time to clean up after them, I went over to the cabinet—which they’d left open—to grab the instant coffee, and of course, we were out of it.
“Fuck.”
I slammed the empty jar into the garbage bin, only for it to fall out. About to lose my shit, I turned and placed both hands flat on the counter. Closing my eyes, I took three deep breaths, reminding myself I had to stay calm if I wanted things to change this time around.
“The fuck you dressed like that?”
I straightened in time to see my brother, Ignacio, walking into the kitchen. Yawning, he scratched his abs, eyes half-closed. I grunted at the sight and pushed away from the counter in the hope of finding something in our fridge.
“I have a job interview,” I said, scanning the empty shelves. Shit. It felt like only yesterday I’d spent fifty bucks on groceries, and we were already out of it all.
“Which number is it now?”
I sighed. “Eleven.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You really can’t get a job, huh?”
I answered him with a pissed-off look that finally made him shut up. Or so I thought…
“Anyway, that’s what you’re wearing?”
I slammed the fridge door, then looked down at my clothes. “What’s wrong with it?”
He grimaced. “You look like some shady salesman who’s about to offer little girls candy in the park.”
“Oh, fuck off.” I picked the empty coffee jar up from the floor and put it back in the bin.
“I’m being dead serious, bro.”
My brows furrowed. “It’s just a suit.”
“Yeah, a shitty one.”
Obviously, it was shitty. But it was the only suit I could rent for under a hundred.
“Whatever. It’s a rental, anyway.”
Running his fingers through his brown hair, the same color as mine, he hummed. “You could have just borrowed my suit. You know, the one I wore to Dad’s funeral. It’s decent.”
I paused for a moment, bitterness filling my mouth as the room turned still. But snapping out of it quickly, I shook my head.
“Like any clothes of yours will fit me,” I told him with a slight grin, causing him to grunt.
“You’re not that much bigger than me, yeah? I bulked up while you were away.”
Away.
What a nice way to put it, making it sound like I left to study abroad or some shit, and not spent three years in prison.
I looked back at my brother, who was busy flexing his muscles.
He was neither tall nor broad like me, but he’d grown up quite a bit.
He was only sixteen when I was sentenced, still in high school.
Now, at nineteen, he looked like my old self.
Or maybe not. While we both had the same tanned skin and brown hair like our mom and Dad’s teal eyes, that was where our resemblance ended.
Ignacio was funny and easygoing. The type to live in the moment and be the center of every party, while I? Let’s say I wasn’t any of that.
“Don’t flex too hard, or you’ll shit yourself,” I said, smiling.
“Ha-ha.” He poked his tongue out. “You’re just scared ’cause you know I can beat you up in the ring now.”
“Sure about that?” I challenged him with a raised brow.
Throwing some jabs in the air and jumping around like a bee, he nodded. “Fuck yeah.”
We both knew this was bullshit, yet I didn’t call him out. Instead, I asked, “Why’s Tess here?”
“What d’ya mean? She’s my girl.”
“I told you she can’t sleep here.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved me off. “So where’s your interview?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
He straightened up. “What d’ya want me to say? We fucked, she stayed the night. You know she has it rough at home.”
“She’s a hooker, Nacio.”
Since he always hated the more common nickname Nacho, I settled for Nacio.
He tsked. “She’s an escort.”
I glared at him. “Oh, is she now?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave me an annoyed look. “Why do you even care?”
“’Cause she’s a bad influence on you.”
“Fuck off, bro.”
“I mean it.” I pulled my phone out to check the time. Shit. Now I really was running late. “Anyway, I have to go. Make sure to clean this mess you two made, then send her home.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said back to me, already distracted by doing something else.
I took another minute to look at him before stepping out of our one-and-a-half-bedroom house that had seen better days.
To put it nicely, this place was a total shithole, with a ceiling that dripped every time it rained and wooden floors that creaked under your feet, but it was where we grew up and what we called home.
Meaning it was mine to protect. Ignacio was my family, the only one I had left, which was why sometimes, I had to be an asshole.
Especially when it came to that girl he was seeing, Tess.
She was bad news, pulling him into circles he should’ve stayed the fuck away from.
But whenever I tried warning him, he’d just say they were having fun.
What a stupid-ass word. People like us should stay the hell away from fun because all it ever did was fuck things up.