Page 1 of Her Defiant Warrior

PROLOGUE

Fourteen-year-old Jase Drakos watched his mother’s eyes squint as the little man in charge of the orphanage thanked her again for attending their celebration along with the city delegation. Somehow the little town had scrounged up twenty people who thought highly of themselves, three reporters and that one guy with a video camera…and Jase’s mom.

“Your support means the world to us, Mrs. Drakos. Our mayor said you were a big supporter for the orphanages in Peru. You can see how happy and clean our children are. We do good work here.” The four hairs on his head dripped with sweat.

Jase elbowed his Peruvian brother Renzo in the ribs when the younger boy snorted with laughter.

“Shut it,” Jase whispered. Renzo looked back at Jase and nodded. They both knew it was important not to call attention to themselves. Luckily, their mom didn’t look their way.

“I’m sure that these reporters here will provide the publicity you need to get plenty of donations, Mr. Garcia.” Their mother smiled. Jase recognized it. It was her fake smile. He remembered it when Elani had cooked charcoal cookies and his mom had choked two of them down and said how good they were.

“Ah, but you were able to get many rich Americans to donate to orphanages in Peru. Perhaps you can work your magic here in Brazil as well.”

At fourteen, Jase knew when someone was pulling a fast one, and this guy was a weasel. He had totally put their mom on the spot.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jase jerked his head at Renzo and their other brother, Malik.

They moved away from the crowd and made their way back into the now empty classroom where the weasel had made the orphans perform. Renzo and Malik turned to look at Jase.

“What’s the plan?” Renzo asked.

“He doesn’t have one,” Malik snorted. “He never has one. And the fool expects us to follow him.”

“And you do. So, who's the fool?” Jase smirked back at his youngest brother.

“Okay, Mr. No Plan, why are we back here? What are we looking for?” Malik goaded.

“Something doesn’t smell right. Mom could tell too. She wasn’t buying what that guy was selling. Did you believe him?” Jase asked Malik, who shook his head. “Did you?” he said, turning his attention to Renzo.

“Fuck no,” Renzo responded.

Jase snickered. Listening to Renzo say fuck with his Spanish accent always cracked him up.

“So, what do you think is wrong?” Jase asked Renzo.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Malik asked.

“Nope. Renzo is the only one of us who actually lived in an orphanage. You lived with your parents ’til they died. Then Mom and Dad adopted you. Mom and Dad adopted me when I was a baby, so that means we don’t know what it’s like in an orphanage. Renzo does. This place gives me the heebie jeebies. And if I think something stinks, and Mom’s kind of worried, then I really want to know what Renzo thinks.”

“Makes sense.” Malik nodded. “But what could they be doing? You saw all the kids; they were all laughing and singing and fingerpainting. Do you think that butthole is going to steal the donations?”

“They might steal the donations,” Renzo answered. “But you better not believe all the kids are happy. They pulled that shit at my orphanage in Peru. Then they hid the sick, injured, and uncontrollable kids in the basement.”

“They did?” Malik asked. His eyes were wide. “Why would they do that?”

“They didn’t want visitors to see them, right?” Jase asked Renzo.

“I wish it was only those times,” Renzo said harshly. “One kid who came at the same time I did kept crying all the time. He was just a couple of years younger than me. His mom had been killed right in front of him. I think they did things to her too. He saw it all. He screamed in his sleep almost every night. He couldn’t help it.”

Renzo stopped talking. He dug his toe into the cracked cement floor.

“What happened to him?” Malik asked.

“I tried to make him stop crying. He was just a little kid, ya’ know? He slept in the bunk beneath mine, so I would creep down and wake him up when he was having a nightmare so the warden wouldn’t punish him.”

“I don’t get it. Why would they punish him? He was just having a nightmare, right?” Malik questioned Renzo again.

Renzo sighed. “Right,” he said. “Twice he wet his bed. When he did, the warden lady would rub his nose in the pee sheets. Then he threw up, and she beat his butt with her stick. The third time that happened, they took him away.”