Page 83 of Lash

"Mama?" he queries, confused more than concerned.

Lorenzo fills the doorway, pistol in hand, and the young boy shoots to his feet and puts himself between his mother and Lorenzo, chin high, eyes blazing and defiant. More gunfire erupts—only a handful of seconds have elapsed from the first burst, and now the boy takes notice, turning to look up at his mother.

Lorenzo says something in a low, comforting tone, pointing toward the noise with his gun. I wriggle under his arm, offering mother and son what I hope is a reassuring smile.

"It's okay," I say in English. "We are here to help you."

Lorenzo translates, and I put myself between him and the mother and son. The woman responds, and I wait for the translation.

"She wants to know who is shooting and why we are here," Lorenzo murmurs to me.

"What have you told her?" I ask him.

"That I'm a friend of Sophia's, and that we need to get her and her son out of here."

"Seems like a lot more than that was said, Lorenzo."

"Yes, but most of it was her being suspicious and telling me to leave, and me trying to explain."

I give him a droll look. "Lorenzo, you are a big scary man showing up out of the blue talking about this boy's birth mother, telling her she needs to go with you. And then there's shooting. Of course she's going to be wary and protective."

The woman snaps something.

"She wants to know what we are saying."

I shuffle toward her, hands out so she can see I am unarmed. "You adopted Lorenzo from this woman, yes?" I ask, holding out my hand to Lorenzo; he puts the phone in it with Inez's photo on screen.

Soí,” she says. “And?”

I point toward the gunfire. "There are bad men out there who want to steal Lorenzo from you."

"Who wants to steal him? Why?" she asks, through Lorenzo.

"Do I tell her the truth?" I ask him.

"Yes, it is best, at this point."

So, I tell her, having to get closer to hear her over the back-and-forth chatter of the gunfight—deafening, terrifying.

"Lorenzo's father is Mercado," I explain, speaking slowly with pauses for translation. "I know you must have heard of him. He is a very evil man. He wants to make Lorenzo the next Mercado."

This gets her attention. "Mercado is the devil." She dry-spits on the floor and makes the sign of the cross. "My husband was killed by Mercado gangsters. He was doing nothing—shopping for food for dinner. Someone who angered Mercado was there, and they shot him, and my husband was in the way. They did not care. They are monsters."

I point in the direction of the gunfire. "That's them out there, and my friends are holding them off."

She looks at her son, and then at me. "He is the son of the devil?" She clutches her son to her chest with her free hand, the knife still at the ready.

"But he was raised with love," I say. "His mother—the woman who bore him, she will not let him become like Mercado. She sent us to protect you."

The woman's gaze goes distant. "She was hurt and afraid. She gave me a lot of money, but told me to be very careful with it. Never tell anyone how I got him." She snaps her gaze back to me. "Why does Mercado want him now, after so many years?”

"I do not know for sure. I heard that he had another son who was killed. He needs an heir to give the Mercado empire to, so he decided he wants it to be his son."

The woman presses a kiss to little Lorenzo's head, her eyes thoughtful. She shakes her head, mouth still pressed to her son's head. "He is my son. I do not care who his father is, and I will not give him back to her. He is mine."

Lorenzo steps forward then, addressing; after, he tells me what he told her. "Sophia is not trying to take him back. She wants you both to be safe. That is all."

The woman stares hard at Lorenzo. "Are you lying to me?"