Page 34 of The Risks of Reuniting

I speak to them in Spanish, telling them we have nothing, that we've just come from church and we're humanitarian volunteers. A couple of them share looks, and I wonder if they've been served by Lifting Hope, or maybe feel bad picking on religious people. I start to hope that they'll walk away. Maybe this can be one of those stories we laugh about later.

But suddenly Emilia lunges for one of them. She's taken off her shoe and tries to whack him, and it would be hysterical if he wasn't one of the knife-holding ones. Chloe sees him lift the knife toward Emilia –probably in defense to be fair – and in a stupidly selfless act she lunges out to protect Emilia.

My brave, fierce, protective woman.

I'm diving after her before I even think to do so, my body reacting on instinct, and her cry when the knife slices across her forearm has me seeing red. The blood that starts dripping down toward her hand causes everyone to freeze, and I honestly believe that even the thugs are shocked it's gotten this far. But their surprise and hesitation don't stop me from losing my mind. Cesar, Rachelle, and Emilia are equally livid, and it's an all-out war while Chloe stares at her arm like she can't believe it's happening.

She's the calm in the center of a tornado.

This has turned into a full-on schoolyard brawl, with a bunch of untested fighters flailing our arms and legs, yelling and screaming, and no one really making any progress. I get hit as many times as I make contact myself, and I worry that the others are taking hits too. My main focus, though, is getting those knives out of play. Thankfully I manage to wrestle one of the knives away and throw it as hard as I can, but I don't know where the other knife is and I'm worried someone else will be hurt.

Like Chloe was.

"Chloe?" I call out, unable to take my eyes off the guys that are kicking at my legs, but needing to know if she's okay. "Are you okay?"

"I'm all right," she calls back, but her tone tells me she's not really okay, and I bare my teeth as I punch and kick my way to freedom.

Fights and muggings are common enough here that I don't expect anyone to come out of their home and get involved, so I'm surprised when a group of older men come jogging around the corner. At first I'm terrified that these older men are the gang leaders, but it's quickly obvious they're here to scare off the thugs. Their words are loud and firm,and it's all over in a matter of minutes. I watch the teens jog up the hill and around a corner, out of sight. I'm darkly satisfied to see that a few of them have torn shirts and bloody lips, just like we do.

Our rescuers don't say much other than acknowledging that they've been helped by Lifting Hope in the past and will make sure we're not bothered again. Then, they float away too, leaving us alone.

It takes our group a few heartbeats to put our arms down and look to one another, trusting that it's over. Our chests heave, our expressions are varying shades of shocked and angry. My eyes skate around our group as I bend at the waist, attempting to clear the adrenaline fog from my mind.

Rachelle's hair is all over the place, her clutch is still held close to her chest and I can see some scratches on her arms. Her shirt is torn at the shoulder, but she seems to be alright overall.

I'm going to have at least one black eye, and never be able to wear this shirt again, as all the buttons were popped when someone grabbed it, tearing it at the same time. My chest is exposed and I look down, grateful to find I wasn't cut by a knife, although I do have scratches and will probably have a few bruises as well.

Emilia just looks mad. Her hair and clothing are rumpled, and she's busily putting her shoe-weapon back on. I don't know how she did it, or what about her life in Argentina taught her to fight that way, but I'm glad she's okay. Also, I want her with me if this ever happens again – she's a tough cookie. The thought nearly makes me smile.

Cesar isn't in much better shape than the rest of us. He stands bent over at the waist too, with his hands on his knees, huffing for air. His lip is bloody and it looks like at some point he was on the ground, because his clothing is dusty and his hair is tufted up like a cockatiel's head feathers.He's missing a shoe too. Cesar is a lover, not a fighter, but his loyalty made him brave today.

I'm almost afraid to look at Chloe, unsure if my heart can handle whatever I might see, but I can't wait any longer.

"Everyone okay?" I ask as I move swiftly to Chloe's side. They all mumble in shaken voices, saying they're alright, but Chloe stays silent, hugging her bleeding arm against her chest and looking like she's seen a ghost.

"Chlo, baby," I say, taking her arm gently in my hands. "Let me see it."

She looks up at me and I think she might be in shock, but she nods and holds it out for my inspection. I keep my fingers soft, and tamp down on an angry hiss when I take it in. The gash is about three inches long and deep enough to require stitches, but I don't think it cut muscle or bone. It will scar, and I hate that she'll carry the reminder forever.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"Yeah," she admits. "That was . . ."

I sigh deeply and give in to the urge to pull her up against me. I wrap her in my arms and hug her tight against my chest, nuzzling my nose into her hair and breathing her in. My girl. She could have been seriously hurt. I wouldn't have survived it. I press a kiss to her head and tuck her against me tighter. I don't care that others are watching, I need her close.

"I've never been so scared in my life," I whisper against her hair. Her arms move to encircle my waste and she leans against me.

"Areyouokay?" she asks.

"Yeah, baby, I'm all right."

It takes a moment to realize that everything around us has gone quiet, and I open my eyes to see that the other three are staring at us with avid interest. I close my eyes and breathe out one more deep breath before I tilt my head down and press my lips close to her ear.

"The coast is clear. Let's get you back to the clinic. You're going to need stitches, and probably a good round of antibiotics too. Who knows how dirty that knife was."

"Baby?" I hear Cesar ask Rachelle. "How is she a baby?"

"Cariño," Emilia tells him.His sweetheart.

---