alley when a group of teenage boys came out of the shadows, and surrounded them, a couple of them flashing knives.
“Give me your Goddamn wallet, man!” one of them shouted.
When Cole didn’t comply, another yelled, “You and your puta better do what we say, gringo!”
In a blur, Cole pushed Angel behind him, and yanked this gun out of his shoulder holster.
That surprised them. They weren’t counting on any resistance.
Cole watched as two of them looked to each other. He quickly sized them all up, using the instincts he’d come to trust, especially when his life depended on it. The rest of the group were pretty much lemmings, following the leaders, these two. Cole raised the gun, aiming it at the head of the one on the left. He was pretty sure this was the one in charge.
“You’re out numbered asshole,” the guy snarled at Cole.
“Maybe so, but you’re still going to drop like a rock when I blow your head open. You ready to be six feet under, Muchacho?”
The guy stared down the barrel a moment, and then swore, and they all ran off, behind the building.
Cole turned back to Angel, who was clutching the milk to her chest. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“Come on.” He holstered the gun, and put his arm around her shoulder, and they hurried back to the house. Cole kept a watchful eye on his surroundings.
They walked in the house, and into the kitchen.
Angel set the milk down on the counter, and took a deep breath.
Natalie was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a cookbook. She looked up, and saw the look on Angel’s face. Pulling her reading glasses off, she stood up. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
Cole looked over at her. “Some kids tried to rob us?”
“What? Where?”
“The bowling alley parking lot.”
“But that’s just down the street.”
“Yeah. It is. There were six of them. A couple of them pulled knives.”
Natalie put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
“We’re fine,” Angel said, turning around.
Cole turned to Natalie. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Sure.”
He nodded, and took Angel by the hand, and led her out to the patio. He pushed her down in a chair, and pulled up another, turning it towards hers. He sat down, and grabbed the arms of her chair, and pulled it around to face his, the metal scrapping across the concrete. Leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, he looked at Angel. She looked like she was in some kind of shock. He knew she’d been through worse than this before. He guessed this was just a little too close to home. “You need a shot of whiskey, babe?”
She looked at him blankly, and shook her head.
“Do you see now what I’ve been telling you? You and your aunt need to move.”
She looked away. “We’ll be fine.”
“And what if I’m not around next time?” he asked.
She looked at him, and shrugged.
He took a deep breath, looking down at his hands. “I want you and the kids to come back to California with me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He met her eyes.
“We can’t do that. Melissa won’t be able to leave the hospital for weeks.”
“When she’s ready to travel, then.”
“Her doctors are all here.”
“California has doctors, too. She’ll be okay.”
She shook her head. “There’s Natalie, and-”
“She comes, too.”
Angel looked at him blankly.
“Damn it, Angel! I cant’ keep you and my kids safe from seven hundred miles away.” His voice was raised.
She shook her head. “This is crazy. We’ll be fine.”
He leaned back, and ran his hands through his hair. “Why do you have to be so Goddamn stubborn, woman?”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Overreacting? What, because I don’t want my kids growing up in this fucking neighborhood?” he practically yelled at her.
She tried to stand up, but he pushed her back in the chair. He stood over her, taking a deep breath to calm down. He hated to fight dirty, but she wasn’t giving him any choice. He was going to have to pull the only card he had, and he knew it wasn’t going to be fair to her. Not after everything she’d done for TJ and Melissa. All the sacrifices she’d made for them, and him having done very little.
She looked up at him.
He leaned down over her, resting his hands on the arms of her chair. “You’re going to listen to me whether you like it or not. These are my kids, too. And I’ve got some rights about how and where they get raised.”