Through You (The Hidalgo Brothers Book 2)

CLAUDIA

The bus driver wakes me up when we arrive at the garage where the buses park for the night. I clearly underestimated how tired I was. It’s all Mrs. Hidalgo’s fault. She’s been working me extra hard, making me clean spots in the house that were already done. I suspect it’s how she’s retaliating for the way I treated her at the hospital.

I’m in trouble.

This was the last bus and the last stop. I’m a few miles from the house. The driver says good-bye and leaves me by myself. I hesitate about whether to tell him I have no way to get home. But he leaves on foot; I suspect he lives not far from here. I hang my backpack on one shoulder and reach inside for my wallet. The salary I earn working for the Hidalgos is spent mostly on medicine for my mother, books for school, and bus fare, so I don’t have much on me. And though I’m very good at budgeting, having all those expenses makes it difficult to save.

I bite my lower lip and go back to counting the bills in my wallet. If I pay for a cab, I won’t have enough money left to cover bus fare for the rest of the week. With this in mind, I put the wallet back inside my backpack next to my books. I guess I’ll have to make my way through the streets. I have to admit it makes me nervous. But I have pepper spray on me. I also took a course on personal defense. I step out of the parking garage and look both ways. The street is completely deserted. I inhale deeply before starting to walk. The luminescent streetlights, the darkness at this time of the night, and the deserted street take me back to another night.

“Look at her hair! So disgusting!” A group of teenagers hanging out at a field in the park that served as a temporary home for me and my mom were making fun of me.

They had me cornered against the fence, and I squeezed my teddy bear.

“She does have a sweet face, though,” one of them added. “I mean, after you scrub away all that dirt.”

A boy crouched and placed his hands on his knees, leaning toward me.

“Where’s your mommy, scum?”

Though I was still only seven years old, I’d grown up in difficult situations and had learned how to defend myself. “I’ll scream if you don’t leave me alone.”

The boy laughed.

“Are you going to scream? Then go ahead, stinky brat.” He stretched out both arms and pointed in either direction in the park, which was empty at night. “I’m pretty sure you won’t have an audience.”

My tiny fingers holding the bear trembled.

“Now, tell us. Where’s your mommy? She owes us some merchandise, and if she can’t pay for it we have other ways to get that money, and she knows it.”

Even though I didn’t fully understand what they intended to do with my mother, I knew it wasn’t good because she always cried after they were done with her. When I didn’t respond, another boy brusquely grabbed my face, digging his fingers into my skin with such force that it made me wince in pain. “I don’t have all night.”

I clenched my hand into a fist, and struck him between the legs with all the strength I could muster, just like my mother had taught me. Due to my small height and the fact that he wasn’t expecting the blow, my hit landed hard. He grunted and fell to the ground, and I raced away, dodging between swings and slides until I made it to the small shrubs that encircled the park. Before I knew it, I’d reached the street. I looked over my shoulder to check that no one was following me. I slowed my pace but my chest kept rising and falling, recuperating from the run. The smell of freshly cooked food reached my nose and I closed my eyes to fully savor it.

Oh no. I was on the street with all the restaurants. My mom said I should never come this way because just watching the food is pure torture. I had, on occasion, made it this far, thinking that the smell would be more than enough. I stood outside restaurants with signs I couldn’t read, and I could see everything through the clear windows. I fooled myself into believing I could taste what was being served just by inhaling the smells. There were soups, meats, bread, juices. I licked my lips, and my mouth watered. An elegant man sat at the head of one of the tables, smiling widely at the other people sitting with him. I realized he was with his family. There was a woman next to him and she had a baby on her lap, and a boy who appeared close to my age was seated beside her. Another boy who looked older sat right across from them.

A happy family. I wondered what it felt like to have a father.

Impulsively, I placed my hand on the glass. The boy who looked my age stood up, and then I could tell by his height he was younger than me. Without his family noticing, he made his way to the window and put his hand on the other side of the glass, exactly on the spot where I had mine. He had black hair and beautiful blue eyes.

I smiled at him and he smiled back.

I couldn’t help the urge to ask him if he could share some of his food with me. Just a little. But I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me from this side of the glass, so I signed with one hand bringing food to my mouth while rubbing my belly with the other. He seemed to understand but before he could say anything, a hand jerked him away from the window: it was the woman. She shot me a cold and dismissive glance, then pulled him back to the table. My hopes for a warm meal were dashed when he left. I hung my head low, let out a sigh, and turned around to make my way back to the park to find my mother.

“Hey!” someone called to me. I looked around, fearful that it might be the guys who had been harassing me before.

It was the elegant man from inside the restaurant. His family stood behind him as a black car pulled up and parked in front of them. The lady helped the kids into the car; the boy with the blue eyes waved good-bye to me. And the older boy was standing, still staring at me, likely waiting for his father.

“Hey, there!” The gentleman greeted me amicably and gave me a warm smile, then knelt down in front of me. “Are you hungry?”

I looked at him with trepidation. No one was ever nice without expecting something in return. That was what my mother told me all the time. But I was starving, and slowly nodded in response.

“Are you alone?” I shook my head. “Where’s your mother?”

Unconscious. Right behind the swings, in a patch encircled by some bushes that had become our home.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He extended his hand. “My name is Juan. What’s your name?”

I quickly glanced at his hand and decided not to take it.

“Claudia.”

His smile widened.

“That’s a pretty name. Great. Now, Claudia, I just want to help. Okay? Will you take me to your mother?”

My alarms bells went off. Was he one of the men who came looking for my mom only to make her cry? He didn’t look like those men. My eyes landed on the older boy standing there, waiting for his father. They all seemed fine when they were having dinner together as a family. If this man had been bad, I didn’t think the boy would be waiting for him like this. I grabbed the hand the gentleman offered me and guided him to where my mother was.

When we walked by the older boy, the man spoke to him.

“Artemis, get in the car and tell your mom to head home.

Albert will stay with me and I’ll come home later by cab.”

“Dad . . .”

The boy got in the car and we made a quick departure before they drove off. A tall man dressed in black had come out of the car and was closely following in our steps.

I tensed up, and the gentleman gave my hand a squeeze. “You can relax. He’s here to protect us, okay?”

I nodded again. My mother was awake by the time we arrived at the clearing we called home. She looked worried. The man let go of my hand, and knelt to face me.

“I need a moment with your mom to talk. Could you go keep Albert company?”

I looked at my mother, and she nodded so I did as he asked.

I didn’t know what they discussed, or understand what was going on. I only knew that we left our spot in the park and got in a cab.

The gentleman and Albert got in another.

“Mommy, where are we going?”

Her eyes were red and she hadn’t stopped crying since she’d spoken with that gentleman.

“We’re going to . . . My little girl, things are going to change.”

She grabbed my face with both hands. “I’m going to change, for you. That man has offered your mom a decent job.”

“Are we going to have food?”

She nodded and smiled while tearing up. “Lots of food.”

“And a bed?”This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Yes. And we’re going to take a long shower.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes when we finally arrived at the house, and I stared at it with my mouth wide open. It was beautiful and reminded me of the houses I’d seen on the pages of the magazines my mother and I used as blankets. Mr. Juan introduced us to his family as soon as we came in. There was Sofia, Artemis, Ares, and baby Apolo. My mom bowed her head with gratitude. Right after he showed us to our room and took his leave, we ran to the bathroom to clean ourselves. This was the first bed we’d had in a long time, and we didn’t want to get it soiled.

Mr. Juan left a few women’s clothes from his wife for my mom. He also brought me clothes that belonged to the older boy, who was nine years old, and whose name was Artemis. The shorts and the T-shirt were way too big for me but I didn’t mind because they smelled clean. My mom was exhausted and quickly fell asleep. I didn’t blame her—the bed felt like a dream. However, I was very hungry. Mr. Juan said we could eat whatever we liked.

In the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and couldn’t believe its contents. I let my impulses take over, and reached in to pick a little bit of everything I saw. Bread, jam, cheese, deli meats.

“You’re going to get a tummy ache.”

I froze when I heard a voice in the kitchen. With a hunk of bread in my hand, I turned to find Artemis.

“You need to eat slowly.”

I chewed and swallowed the piece of bread I had in my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He gave me a friendly smile.

“I wasn’t scolding you, dummy. You need to slow down when you eat or your tummy will hurt if you stuff yourself with too many things all at once.”

“Don’t call me dummy.” He wasn’t expecting my reaction, but I continued. “And you’re dumber than I am.” I regretted my words as soon as they were spoken. I’d have to behave better or they’d kick us out, like my mom had said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He didn’t look bothered. “Let me make something for you.”

That night, Artemis made me the first proper meal I’d had in a very long time. Then right after, I went to sleep on a bed that wasn’t made of grass or newspaper, with my belly full of real food instead of air. It was the best night of my childhood.

By the time I make the walk home from the bus depot, I’m exhausted. It was farther than I expected, and the nostalgia triggered by the memory from that night still lingers in my mind. I open the front door and rest my back against the wall. The room is dark except for the glow of the fireplace. The crackling noise of the fire echoes in the otherwise silent house.

I don’t have to see him to know he’s there.

His suit jacket is off and carefully laid over the arm rest of the couch. The top buttons of his white shirt are undone and so is his tie, revealing a patch of chest where his shirt parts. It’s close to midnight. Did he just get home from work?

Artemis doesn’t say anything and simply stares at me. When I see him, I never pick up on the coldness that Ares and Apolo often speak of.

Am I the only one who is capable of looking past it?

Am I the only one you al ow to see through you, Artemis?

I’m struck by the sentiment that perhaps I’m the one person who knows him better than anyone else. I find it hard to believe he’s the type who could be unfaithful—there must be more to him cheating on his girlfriend. Am I stupid for entertaining these thoughts? Am I refusing to face reality? Five years have passed; maybe he’s completely changed and is no longer the sweet boy I fell in love with. So why can’t I shake the feeling that whenever he’s with me he’s the exact same person he was before? He lowers his head, stands up, grabs his blazer, and turns to give me his back, heading toward the stairs.

“Artemis.”

I surprise myself. What am I doing? He turns around but doesn’t approach me. I peel myself off the wall and make my way to him cautiously, one step at a time. I come to a halt with a safe distance between us.

“Tell me the truth, Artemis.”

He scowls.

“I’m giving you this one chance to be honest with me.”

His voice is dead calm. “What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well.” I’m exasperated and raise my hands when he refuses to give me an answer. “Forget it. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

I walk away, feeling like an idiot for seeing something that wasn’t there. I’m about to step into the hallway that leads to my room when a pair of arms wrap around me from behind, stopping me in my tracks. Artemis pulls me tight against him. His chest is glued to my back.

He rests his forehead on my shoulder, and his voice is barely a whisper. “I didn’t lie to you or toy with your emotions. I could never play games like that with you, Claudia.”

I keep quiet and let him continue to explain, because I know he could not do it face-to-face. “I had broken up with her when I went looking for you that night at the club. You were never the other woman. I couldn’t put you in that position.”

“But you got back together with her.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Why did you kiss me if you were going to get back with her?”

“Because I didn’t want to get back with her, I wanted to . . .”

I turn in his arms so that I can see him, and grab his face with both hands. I force him to look straight at me, which is a terrible idea, since having him this close is too tempting.

“What did you want?”

The honesty in his eyes is explicit. “I wanted to be with you.”

“I don’t understand you, Artemis.”

He presses his forehead against mine and his breathing grazes my lips.

“I want you to know that I wasn’t playing games with you.

That wasn’t my intention.”

I look him straight in the eye. “So what do you want now?”

He closes his eyes and bites his lips, unsure. I let go of his face and take a step back.

“You want to stay with her.”

Artemis remains silent. I take that as his answer, and force a smile.

“It’s fine, I understand. I appreciate that you’ve cleared things up about what happened. And now we can get back to keeping things civil between us without me wanting to murder you every time we run into each other.” I wave. “Good night, Artemis.”

I leave him in the living room. His shoulders are slumped and he looks like he lost a battle against a far superior adversary before it even started.