Page 4 of Her Defiant Warrior

“What did they do to you, Angel?”

Her arm didn’t look broken, or even out of its socket, which was a minor miracle. But Jase could see the dark bruising along the fair skin of her wrist.

“It’s going to be all right,” Jase crooned in Portuguese. “You’re safe now.”

He held her on his lap, rocking her between his chest and his knees so that he could watch her face. She never took his eyes off him. She was probably waiting for the next blow. Judging from how old the bruising from the pinches was, and just how emaciated she looked, she had been neglected and abused for a very long time. It would take forever for her to trust anyone, let alone a Latino-looking kid who looked like an older version of the kid who had been about to kick her.

Jase slowly reached out and cupped the side of her head, and started humming the one song he could remember his mom singing to him when he was a baby. Then he remembered her singing it to Malik and the other kids as they came along. Jase began singing the words, and the little angel lifted her uninjured hand up to his lips.

“When I’m worried and I can’t sleep

I count my blessings, instead of sheep

And I fall asleep—”

“What is going on?” his mother shouted above the noise.

Jase felt a flash of relief, but then continued to sing to the little girl and then felt his heart lurch when one lone tear dripped down her cheek.

He continued to sing, but his voice trembled.

“If you’re worried and you can’t sleep

Just count your blessings, instead of sheep

And you’ll fall—”

“Stop! Stop! Stop! You can’t go in there.” It was the bald weasel yelling in Portuguese.

Jase looked up and over. He saw his mother barreling through the double doors. She was livid.

“My God! What have you done? Jase! Renzo! Where are you?”

Jase tuned her out. All that mattered was the little girl in his arms.

With his thumb, he brushed away the little girl’s tear. She was getting blurry, and he couldn’t understand why, until he saw a drop of water hit her chin. That was when he realized he was crying.

He tried to sing again, but he couldn’t, his voice was too hoarse. He began humming the song.

“Jase?”

“Jase?”

He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and turned for just a moment to see Renzo at his side.

“Go away,” he mumbled.

Renzo didn’t. “We need to go talk to Mom.”

“I can’t. I can’t leave her.” He went back to humming.

Once again, the little angel reached up and touched his mouth. It was as if she was trying to feel his voice as well as hear it.

“Seriously, Bro.”

Renzo didn’t even turn his head or acknowledge Renzo in any way. He continued to concentrate on the toddler in his arms.

Then he saw his brother’s finger stroke down Angel’s cheek. She jerked, then looked over at Renzo. It took almost a minute for her to settle. It was as if she knew he was one of the good guys.