They followed, but Yadriel was already starting to regret this decision. After everything he’d heard about Rio—how he cared for and looked after Julian and his friends—he’d expected him to be, well … different. Friendlier, at least. The guy before him didn’t seem like someone who pulled a young boy out of a gang, or took in kids who didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Around the side, Rio unlocked a large chain-link gate. At the back of the building, there was a storage shed and sun-bleached canopy covering a gorgeous car. It was an electric-blue Corvette Stingray, according to the logo. Yadriel didn’t know much about cars, but he could tell it was old but meticulously taken care of.
Julian went right up to it, smoothing both his hands lovingly over the rounded hood. It was a strange shape, kind of like a clown shoe.
A rickety set of stairs led up to the apartment above the shop. Rio stopped at the bottom.
“Dogs stay out here,” he said in a voice so firm, it was clear there was no room for negotiation.
Yadriel turned to Maritza, alarmed.
“It’s fine.” She nodded, waving Yadriel ahead. More quietly, she added, “You’re fine.”
But he certainly didn’t feel fine.
He didn’t want to do this on his own. Luca was there just to get them in the door, and Julian was being unusually quiet as he lingered by the car. But Yadriel sucked in a deep breath and nodded.
Maritza settled herself against the Stingray.
“Don’t lean on the car,” Rio said.
She leaped back.
Rio started up the stairs, and Maritza settled for walking Donatello and Michelangelo around the small yard so they could sniff at rusty car parts and old tires.
Yadriel followed him and Luca up the stairs and into the apartment.
It was small. Much smaller than he’d expected.
To the right, the main room had a square table and three chairs, each of them a different style and wood. It was covered in envelopes and a set of car manuals. Against the far wall sat a flat-screen TV perched on a black-and-red tool cabinet. There was an old PlayStation and a handful of controllers, their cords twisted and knotted together. Facing it was a black leather couch. The cushions looked poufy, but the seats were cracked and the armrests were worn. There was a lumpy yellow pillow crammed into one side and a blue, scratchy-looking blanket with satin trim on the other. A floral comforter was tossed onto a green recliner in the corner, and more folded blankets sat in a precarious heap under the square window.
Straight ahead was the bedroom. Yadriel caught a glimpse of a room barely big enough to fit a mattress on the floor. Last one in, he shut the front door behind himself. There were two holes in the back at about knee height.
Luca sank into one of the chairs at the dining table, drawing one knee up to his chest. Rio turned left, into the kitchen. It was so narrow, Yadriel doubted you could open the fridge door all the way without running into the opposite counter.
Rio pulled a baking pan out of the fridge and snagged a fork from a drawer. “So, who are you?” he asked as he filled a mug up with water from the sink.
“I’m Yadriel,” he said.
Rio set the pan and mug on top of some papers in front of Luca. It was chocolate cake with goopy chocolate icing. Only one small piece had been cut out from the corner. His large hand thumped Luca’s chest, and Luca snatched up the fork and dove right in.
“I’m Julian’s friend,” Yadriel added, feeling pressured to fill the silence. While Rio wasn’t looking, he gave Julian a small nod. Julian edged around the room and disappeared into the bedroom.
Rio leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest, hands tucked under his large biceps. He looked down his nose at Yadriel. “No, you’re not.”
Julian snorted from the other room, but it lacked his usual mirth.
“I’m a newer friend,” he corrected. He nearly added “from school,” but he knew better than to make that mistake.
Rio’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He said nothing and simply stood there, waiting.
“We were wondering if you’d seen Jules,” Luca somehow managed through a huge mouthful of cake.
Rio let his intense gaze stay on Yadriel a moment longer before looking over to Luca. “No, I haven’t. He left a few days ago.”
“You haven’t heard from him at all?”
“No, Luca.” Frustration edged his otherwise even voice. “He left. Probably for good, this time.” For a moment, his quiet stoicism slipped. Yadriel could see past it. Could spot the way his eyelids drooped, how he rubbed a spot on his neck.
Yadriel realized what he’d sensed coming from Rio when he first saw him. He wasn’t sick or injured, but his fatigue was so thick, Yadriel could actually feel it.
Luca frowned. “Jules wouldn’t just leave.”
Rio glanced over at Yadriel, like he didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him, but Luca was persistent.
“Really, Rio, he wouldn’t!”
“He’s been itching to get out of here for years,” Rio told him. “We got into a fight. He said he couldn’t stand living in this dump anymore. He said I—” He cut a glance at Yadriel again and stopped himself.
Yadriel didn’t like the way he was talking about Julian, especially when he couldn’t even defend himself. He felt himself bristling under Rio’s suspicious gaze.
“C’mon.” Luca tried to smile. “You know he just gets like that sometimes.”
“Not this time, Luca.” Rio was curt but far from yelling.
“He’d never actually take off on us!”
Yadriel wanted to agree with him, to tell Rio that Luca was right. He knew he needed to just keep his mouth shut, but it was becoming difficult to hold his tongue.
“This time he meant it. I saw it on his face.” Rio sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving a smudge of grease across his forehead. Worry and exhaustion made him look far older than his twenty-two years.
“Told you.”
Julian stood off to his brother’s side, a gray-and-black plaid shirt balled up in his hands. He watched his brother with dark, smoldering eyes. “I just make his life more difficult. He’s better off.”
Yadriel clenched his jaw. He wanted to knock some sense into both Julian and Rio.
“The cops haven’t come by at all?” Yadriel ventured, trying to steer the conversation toward something that would help them find not only Julian, but Miguel, too.
Luca’s hand froze, a heaping forkful of cake inches from his mouth.
“No.” Rio’s forehead wrinkled. “Why would the cops come by?”
“He’s missing, so shouldn’t we go to the police?” Luca jumped in, his cheeks burning red.
Rio sighed deeply and rubbed his temple. “He’s not missing, Luca, he ran away.” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “He didn’t even tell us he was leaving,” Rio added, expression stormy.
Julian turned away from his brother, wringing the plaid shirt in his hands. His ears were turning red. The hurt was written on every tense muscle in his face, shoulders, and arms.
Anger sparked in Yadriel, and he clenched his fists, his fingernails pressing into his palms. He’d only known Julian a couple of days, but even he knew there was no way Julian would run away from his friends—his family. He wanted to yell at Rio, to tell him he was so entirely wrong.