Luca put down his fork and shook his head, sending his shaggy hair sweeping back and forth. “No, he—”
“Luca.” Rio’s voice was firm. “He doesn’t care.”
Julian flinched, twisting away from Yadriel, but it was impossible to miss his pained expression, or the shine in his dark eyes.
The spark in Yadriel flared.
“If that’s what you think, then you really don’t know Julian at all,” Yadriel said, the words flying from his mouth before he could stop himself.
All three of them turned to stare at him.
Julian blinked at Yadriel, surprised.
Rio’s stare was stony and unforgiving. Luca looked between him and Yadriel anxiously.
“You think you know him better?” Rio asked. “I’ve never even seen you before. I’ve known him his whole life,” he said, tapping a finger against his chest. “I kept him off the streets and raised him ever since—”
“Apparently!” Yadriel cut him off, forcing himself to stand his ground even though he was incredibly intimidated by Rio. “If you really think Julian doesn’t care about you all, then yeah, I do know him better!”
Julian openly gaped.
Rio straightened. “You—”
But Yadriel refused to let him talk. He wasn’t thinking about protecting his own secret, he just wanted to make Rio see how stupid he was being, how hurtful his words were. “Maybe he’s got a short temper and makes stupid decisions sometimes,” he went on. “But you should know that Julian wouldn’t leave you all unless there was something keeping him from coming back!”
Rio eyes grew sharp with distrust. “Who are you?” he said—an order, not a request.
“What if something happened to Julian?” Luca said to Rio, his chin wobbling.
“What are you talking about?” Rio asked, but Luca turned away, refusing to look him in the eye. Instead, Rio looked at Yadriel.
He couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make Rio even more suspicious, or, worse, alarm him. Sensing his hesitation, Rio stood bolt upright.
“What happened?” His eyes shot between Yadriel and Luca.
“Don’t.”
The sharp word yanked Yadriel’s attention back to Julian. He stood there, the shirt twisted around his wrists like a rope.
“Don’t tell him,” Julian said.
Quickly, Yadriel looked away from him. He couldn’t draw Rio’s attention to Julian, or he’d see the shirt hovering in midair.
“Luca,” Yadriel said in warning, giving a quick shake of his head. Yadriel had promised not to out him, and he wouldn’t.
Luca tucked his chin to his chest, his cheeks burning bright red.
Rio’s tired expression had vanished. He was alert and protective as he stepped between Yadriel and Luca. “What do you want? And why did you drag Luca into whatever the hell this is?” Rio barked.
Yadriel’s heart thudded in the pulse of his neck. “I—I—” he stammered.
“But, Rio,” Luca interrupted, panic tightening his voice. “What if—”
“Luca.” Rio took a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips. He sank into a squat beside Luca so they were eye to eye. He gave Luca’s shoulder a squeeze. “He ran away.”
Yadriel felt the cold washing off Julian in waves. Under it was a palpable ache.
Rio’s voice was strange when he spoke, like he was trying to sound comforting but didn’t know how. “If he doesn’t want to be a part of this family anymore, then we need to let him go, okay?”
It happened in a blink of an eye. Yadriel was the only one who saw Julian bolt.
But they all heard his foot slam into the door, leaving a third hole. It flung open, clattering against the railing. As Julian stormed out, a gust of icy wind whipped in, sending papers flying.
Everyone jumped. Luca flinched. Rio was on his feet immediately.
Yadriel thought his heart was going to burst through his chest.
Rio’s eyes snapped to Yadriel, wide and alarmed. He pointed at the door. “Get out.”
Yadriel backed up. “I’m sorry—I—”
“NOW.”
He caught a short glimpse of Luca, shielded by Rio’s body. He was trembling, his eyes glued to the new hole Julian had left in the door. Yadriel ran out and down the stairs.
SIXTEEN
Yadriel raced down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him, combat boots clomping all the way. Julian stormed off ahead, with no sign of slowing down. The chain-link gate rattled as he blew through.
“Come on.” He waved at Maritza. “We gotta go.”
Maritza met Yadriel at the bottom of the stairs. “What the heck happened?” she asked, her head snapping back and forth between him and Julian’s retreating back. Michelangelo whined anxiously. Meanwhile, Donatello merrily chewed on something that might’ve been a crumpled plastic bottle. “Sounds like it didn’t go well.”
“It didn’t,” Yadriel agreed as they rounded the building.
A few heads turned when Julian cut through the busy lot, a sharp gust of wind following him.
A woman gasped and punched the arm of the man standing next to her. “Did you see that?” she asked, pointing right where Julian had passed. Undoubtedly, she’d seen the shirt in his hands floating off on its own.
The man laughed. “Those Santa Ana winds are crazy,” he said, shaking his head.
Yadriel quickened his pace, filling in Maritza as they chased after Julian. His stomach twisted, sick with guilt as he remembered the looks on Luca’s and Rio’s faces. Yadriel wasn’t sure if Luca fully believed him about Julian’s being dead, let alone being a ghost. Either way, he’d definitely freaked Luca out.
He hadn’t meant to upset them, but he couldn’t help himself. The way Rio had been so dismissive and just so wrong about Julian, how was he supposed to just let him keep going? Especially when Julian was standing right there, listening to all of it and unable to defend himself. How could Rio think so little of Julian? Was that how he really felt? What he really thought? Or was he just acting out because he was hurt?
The Diaz brothers seemed to have trouble processing their emotions.
Julian stomped down the street.
“Julian!” Yadriel hissed, trying to keep up.
The shirt hung from Julian’s fist, whipping around wildly. Santa Ana winds were a flimsy cover, at best. If they weren’t careful, they were going to catch someone’s attention. That was the last thing they needed right now.
“Wait up!”
Julian turned, disappearing behind an old church.
Yadriel, Maritza, and the dogs ran to catch up. When they found him, Julian was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the church like a caged animal. Rusty grates of filigree and crosses sealed off the doors and windows. An angry, frigid wind kicked up dirt and debris around him. His expression was severe and frustrated, the muscles in his jaw tight and his nostrils flared.
Maritza hung back. Donatello whined and Michelangelo shook himself out nervously. She cut Yadriel a wary look.
Her words from earlier needled into Yadriel’s head.
He won’t be Julian anymore.
But this wasn’t Julian losing grip on himself and slipping toward turning maligno. Yadriel knew that.