by Ana Ashley
"I am. I bet I'm not what you expected."
He shook his head. "You're exactly what I expected. Hi, I'm David. I'm Tiago's friend."
"Oh yeah, the chef. He's brought home some of your custard tarts. They're the best I've ever had."
There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place it. He looked younger than Tiago, but not by much, so I wondered if it was my age and the fact I was dating his friend that was weird for him.
"Er… thanks. They're a special recipe I developed with my mom." He rubbed the back of his neck and then went back to what he was doing, so I moved to go around the island toward the door.
"I could use some help," he said. Well, he almost shouted. I was truly puzzled as to why the kid wanted me around when he was clearly uncomfortable with me for some unknown reason.
"I'd love to help. What do you need me to do?"
"Just weigh the ingredients on that list. I can prepare the baking tins while you do that. Can I get you a coffee?"
"That would be great, thanks."
I looked at the list. It seemed like a simple set of instructions for a marble cake.
David seemed to relax as we worked side by side. Tiago had told me about the workshops David ran, so when I asked him about it, he opened up immediately and our conversation flowed a lot better after that.
Tiago hadn't come back by the time David started his workshop, so he invited me to join in with the kids. I didn't need help learning how to make a cake I'd made hundreds of times, but something got me agreeing to it. The class was fun. And because I already knew what I was doing, I was able to chat to the kids and find out more about them.
They all played out like they only did the class because they were bored, but what I saw as David guided them through the recipe was something totally different.
David was very engaging and inspirational, and the kids hung onto every word he said. When the cakes were in the oven, we worked on the filling and then washed up while the cakes cooled down.
"Why are you making them wash up when there's a dishwasher there?" I asked David so the kids didn't hear me.
"It's about discipline and pride. Before my mom taught me how to bake, all I was allowed to do was watch her. It wasn't until I started asking more questions about what she was doing that she finally allowed me to bake with her."
"How old were you?"
"Ten."
There was sadness in his eyes as he talked about baking with his mom, and I wondered if there was a story there but didn't want to pry, especially as he was finally more relaxed around me.
"What do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I'm an architect."
"That's great. Have you designed anything I'd recognize?"
"Probably not since I've only recently moved here from Porto, so all of my work is there."
There was that look again. Curious, searching, and something else I couldn't put my finger on.
"They're finished, so it's time to ice the cakes and then the best part."
"What's that?"
"We get to try a little bit of each and give feedback."
"I can totally get behind that."
I was having a great time at the center, so much so that I almost forgot the reason I'd come. After David and the kids were gone, I left my boxed cake on the kitchen island and went out to the gardens to wait for Tiago.
The place was as magical as he'd described. I walked around and spent some time looking at the latest painting on the wall before I settled on the cushioned seats under an arch. I'd heard about the ever-changing piece of art created by the kids and loved it. Every time I looked at something in this place, my heart swelled further with pride for Tiago.
I knew he sold himself short when it came to his involvement with the center, but I was pretty sure if I spoke with Isaac, he'd tell me exactly how much work my gorgeous young man had put into it.
In the weeks since we'd lived together, I'd heard the one-sided calls from Isaac, and on one occasion, I'd even joined in a Skype video call when Isaac asked to meet me. He'd apologized for the confusion from the rental agency, but I'd shut him down immediately when I said I'd happily send the agency some flowers or a thank you card for their role in Tiago and I meeting again.
I saw movement from the direction of the kitchen door and looked to see Tiago leaning against the frame with my cake box in his hand. I smiled and crooked my finger to call him to me. He obliged and walked over, straddling me and placing the box next to us.
He was going to say something, but I was missing him too much for words, so I put my hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He took advantage of his increased height in that position and took over the kiss, licking my lower lip before demanding entry. As if I'd ever say no to anything he wanted from me.
"Mmm… you taste delicious," he moaned into my lips.
I opened the box, and using the plastic fork I'd left inside, took a piece of the cake and fed it to him. The sounds he made as he took each of the bites I fed him made me so hard I wasn't sure how I'd be able to walk out of there.
"If I knew all it took was cake, I'd have baked you one ages ago," I said, pushing my hips up and showing him the effect his sounds had on me.
"You can bake, too?"
I chuckled and pulled him in for another kiss, tasting the chocolate filling from the cake on his lips.
"I baked this one."
He leaned back to look at me.
"When?"
"I was hoping to meet you earlier, but you weren't here, so I met your friend David and helped him with the workshop. This is the result of my effort." I grinned.
His mouth fell open. "You met David?"
"Yes, he's a nice guy but a little odd."
"How so?"
"He seemed apprehensive around me at first, but once we started talking about his workshops, he relaxed. It was like he was trying to find something in me, but I'm not sure what. Does that make sense?"
"David's a good guy. He's been through a lot. Anyway, what are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were meeting me here."
"I was hoping to whisk you away for a few days to Porto."
His face fell.
"Baby, you're on the brink of a breakdown. Fred has everything under control here, and there's nothing else you can do. Please let me take you away."
He got up and ran his hands through his hair fiercely, like he was trying to hold on to his sanity.
"No. Don't you get it? I can't leave. I can't take any chances. I'm too close, Vítor. Too close."
The last two words were cries into my chest as I got up and put my arms around him.
"Shh, that's okay, baby, we don't have to go. I just wanted to do something for you. I'm so worried about you, and I feel that there's nothing I can do to help you."
"I'm sorry. I haven't been the best person to be around. This wait is killing me, and after seeing him all beat up, I just can't take it anymore. I need to see him, touch him, and promise him that everything is going to be okay."
"You'll have a chance to do that. Just be strong for a little longer."
"I'm so tired."
"I know, baby. Let's take you home."
20
Tiago
In the eight years of searching for my brother, I'd very rarely lost it, but it was becoming a regular occurrence and I didn't like, especially because of the strain it put on Vítor. I knew it was because we were so close, but the wait made the last eight years feel like five minutes and the last three weeks feel like ten years.
After I'd left my meeting that afternoon, I'd received a text from Fred to meet in a local café. He'd told me they were going to coordinate the arrests of more than twenty people involved in the grooming ring at the same time as they rescued the kids. Some of them were people in positions of power in politics, so they'd needed to gather all the evidence to make sure that once they were arrested, they wouldn't be able to make bail.
I hadn't seen my brother through the s
urveillance cameras in a few days, but Fred reassured me he was okay and his bruises seemed to be fading.
Fred had also looked like he was ready for this whole thing to be over. The black circles around his eyes were a testament to the hours he was putting in, likely going through the plans and monitoring the surveillance cameras and bugs he'd planted in the house.
Vítor drove us home from the center since I'd taken the bus to work. I looked at the moving city outside the car. So many people, so many lives. Like them, I'd had to keep moving, hold a job, pay bills, be an adult even when all I'd wanted was to curl up in a ball and ask god or whoever was in fucking charge to bring my brother back to me.
At least now I wasn't on my own. I'd never realized how alone I'd felt before. Not only had Vítor given me a safe space to open up and talk about what I'd gone through, he also didn't judge me for any of my decisions. If anything, I was starting to realize I couldn't have done anything else but move away at the earliest opportunity. I'd been a child when my stepdad abused me, and I couldn't have guessed that he'd do the same to his own son, and I still didn't know the extent of it.
Vítor was the sturdy pillar I could lean on and hold on to when things got tough, but he wasn't made of stone. I could tell that watching me go through this was hurting him, too, so I decided I'd wait until tomorrow to tell him about the text I'd received from Fred just after we'd left the center.
48 hours.
It was enough time to call on everyone who was on standby to help.
Tonight, it was just about Vítor and me.
The center was a hub of quiet activity. Everyone was ready to go as soon as the first children came in. We knew the childrens’ ages ranged from ten to fifteen and that there were eight of them in total, so even though they would probably be scared to death, they could also understand that we were trying to help.
Our largest meeting room was filled with food and drinks for all the people supporting the rescue as well as the children, although we'd also left food in each of the accommodation rooms. Those would be used to interview the children. Fred had explained that since they hadn't been able to confirm the children's identities, they would have to stay at the center until the families were contacted.
"How are you holding up, sweetheart?" Vítor asked as he rubbed my arms. I was shaking like a leaf.
"My head is struggling to choose what to focus on, the kids, Afonso, or the possibility that he may not be with any of the officers that come in today."
As scheduled, the first child arrived at eight in the morning. He was holding on to the officer that had brought him in and tried to hide behind her when I greeted them. There was no one else around because we didn't want to overwhelm the kids.
I guided the officer to the first room upstairs. That was my only job, to show the officers where to take the kids. Everyone else then played their part in turns.
One by one, the kids arrived, each with an accompanying officer. By eleven, all eight kids were in the rooms. I'd caught up with two of the nurses that had assessed them for injuries, and they told me that none of them needed further medical care but would all need extensive therapy.
The fact that these children would likely carry this with them for the rest of their lives broke my heart. No one knew what the real impact would be on them as adults, and we could only hope therapy helped.
There was some consolation in the fact that all the kids were aware they had been rescued by the authorities and were asking for their families already.
Vítor had been my shadow all morning, so I didn't question that he'd been right behind me when I needed to escape to the garden for a moment to myself. In fact, I was sure he wasn't going to let me out of sight any time soon.
I heard him sit on the stool in front of the sofa where I sat down.
"Today is the day that eight families around the country will always remember as the day their children were found," I said as tears ran down my face. They were the only release I had available to me. I could cry for the families and the children that had survived god knew what and now had a chance of a new life.
"They're happy tears, I promise. I just needed a moment to myself."
"Okay, baby. Can I hold you, though?"
I nodded and felt the sofa dip on my side and then I was being pulled into Vítor's arms. We stayed that way for I don't know how long.
By midafternoon, a few of the parents had arrived and been reunited with their children. That brought on another wave of emotions, but I had to keep focused because those parents had left their homes in a rush and had nowhere to stay. I spent another couple of hours booking accommodations, which was a good distraction from wondering where Fred was because I hadn't heard anything from him since that last text almost two days ago.
"Sweetheart, we should go home," Vítor said.
"No. Fred isn't here. I have to wait for him."
"Tiago." He came closer and put his hands on either side of my face, stealing a kiss.
My phone dinged, so I took it out and saw a text from Fred.
"Fred is meeting us at the apartment," I said.
I hugged Vítor and took a deep breath to gather strength for whatever was coming next.
"Let's go then."
I tried to quell my disappointment when we arrived at the apartment and Fred wasn't there waiting for us.
"Let's grab a shower before he gets here okay? You'll feel better for it," Vítor said.
"You only want to get me naked," I teased, more to convince myself everything was okay than any desire to have sex.
"Baby, I always want to get you naked, but this time, we're only having a shower, okay?"
I took his hand and followed him to the bedroom where he undressed me and led me to the shower. He hadn't exactly kept his hands off me, or his lips, but he'd kept them so tame I wanted to cry for feeling so loved.
Vítor left me a little longer in the shower to go and prepare something for us to eat. I stood there under the spray, thinking about what might happen tonight and how I felt about it. I wanted to see and hold my brother in my arms so badly it was like a living thing bubbling under my skin, but I also needed to consider that eight years was a long time. I had no idea what he'd gone through in that time. He'd had to somehow find his place in that horrid world so he could help other kids.
That took strength. Even if he wasn't ready to see me, I was still so proud of him. Maybe Fred could tell him that for me.
I turned the water off and grabbed a towel to dry myself. I noticed I'd lost weight, and I'd seen the bags under my eyes, but I knew I was strong. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror and then went back to the bedroom to get dressed.
When I turned into the living room, I didn't get a chance to think about the voices I heard before a body slammed into me and tightened his arms around my waist.
Both Vítor and Fred were too tall and bulky, which could only mean one thing.
"Afonso," I cried as I tightened my arms around him. My eyes were shut tight as I processed the feeling of his small body against mine. He was warm, breathing, hugging back. He was here.
Vítor's touch on my arm made me finally open my eyes and look up. I had no idea how long I'd been locked in the embrace with my brother, but clearly, it had been long enough that Vítor thought we might be more comfortable on the sofa.
I nodded but didn't move because Afonso hadn't either. I ran my hands through his short hair and over his back. Afonso had always been a small child, so I wasn't surprised to see he hadn't grown as tall as me. He was also very slight, but I didn't know if that was his natural constitution or if he was undernourished.
"Hey, Flea."
He chuckled at the old nickname I used to call him when we were young.
"Let's sit on the sofa," I said.
He stood straight, and I had the chance to look at his face properly for the first time in eight years. There was a little bit of bruising still, but it was nearly gone. Fred was right, Afonso looked so much like me we could p
ass for twins if it wasn't for the clear age difference.
I put my arm around his shoulders and guided him to the sofa. We both sat sideways so we could face each other, and I had to hold his hand because I still didn't believe this was real. I felt Vítor's hand on my back, soothing me and reminding me he was here. I looked at Vítor, and his eyes were slightly red, as were Fred's, who was sitting next to my brother looking like he wanted to be closer but was holding himself back.
"Are you okay?" I asked Afonso.
"Yes, I think I am." He looked behind himself to Fred who smiled and nodded as though he was guaranteeing Afonso's safety.
"I don't know where to start," I admitted. "I have so many questions… so much to tell you."
"Me too," he said.
"Fred, what happened today? Is Afonso really safe?" That was my first and most important question. The answer would dictate what we did next.
"He's safe. Everything went according to plan, and we made the necessary arrests. The reason we weren't able to get to you earlier was because we had to take Afonso's statement. He's our best witness, but he was living at the property, so I needed to make sure he wasn't going to be arrested."
"Will anyone come for him now?"
"It's unlikely because the man who owned the house Afonso lived in was very good at keeping him a secret, and when we orchestrated the rescue, we made it look like he was coming against his will. They also know him by another name."
"How about the press?"
"At the moment, the press doesn't know anything, but considering some of the men are in the public eye, it'll only be a matter of time until either the families raise the alarm or the press starts asking where they are."
Knowing Afonso was finally safe and there wouldn't be anyone looking for him was the biggest relief of my lifetime. Now that he was here, I'd do anything to keep him safe.
I mainly stared at Afonso as he ate the food Vítor had prepared for us. The conversation over dinner revolved around the children in the center and their families. Despite the tight balance in the accounts, I'd spoken to Isaac and he'd agreed we needed to support them and figure out later how to raise more money.