CHAPTER 19

The intense heat had kept most of the early bar patrons inside, choosing an ice-cold draft in a frosted mug and the air conditioning over the sweltering temperatures outside. Late spring in the city felt more like the balmy heat of August today.

Paul assured himself again and again that he was only going to talk to David; just scare him a little and make him regret ever raising a hand to the little angel, which he held such affection for. After all, he had made a promise not to seek revenge on her behalf. But the second he saw David approaching, he was on his feet and laying a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Feeling someone’s firm grip on his shoulder, David turned around just in time to see Paul’s fist coming at him, as the agent’s anger over seeing the bruises on Monica’s face and wrist flowed through him once more as if seeing them for the first time. He watched in satisfaction as David’s knees buckled under the force of the blow, knocking him to the ground as he raised a hand to his eye where Paul’s fist had made contact. His entire body was on high alert as he stood over the man, his expression daring David to fight back.

“That was for Monica,” He stated, his voice low and dangerous, “How does it feel to be as out matched as she was?”

“Get the hell away from me,” David growled, though he elected to remain on the ground lest Paul should hit him again and he knew the man’s strength could easily overpower him.

“Then you stay the hell away from Monica. You got that? If you so much as look at her wrong again, and rest assured, I will be watching, your wife will not even recognize you when you get home.”

“Your little girlfriend had it coming to her,” He retorted, instantly regretting his words as Paul leaned over and grabbed hold of David’s shirt, yanking him roughly to his feet.

Bringing his face close to David’s, Paul continued, trying to fight the urge to lay the man out till he wouldn’t see the sun rise again for a week, “There are few things I hate more than someone who preys on women, but you’ve chosen the wrong one this time, Dave. When you next see her, I had better hear an apology coming from your lips, immediately followed by a thank you for her not calling the police. Do we have an agreement or do I need to blacken your other eye for you to make it a matched set?”

David nodded his head, though in his mind he was already deciding that snow would fall in hell before he would apologize to a waitress, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t at least pretend to comply, Paul could easily kill him.

“If you were smart, you would pay attention to the things she has been trying to tell you as she wants to help you.”

“I don’t need help from anyone, especially not from a mouthy cocktail waitress,” David snapped, trying to back away, but the agent held on fast.

“You know, you’re as delusional as you are stupid,” Paul scowled, releasing him with a shove, “She’s probably the only person on the planet willing to give you the time of day and you could care less. You prefer the incredible insight you get from a drunken stupor. Let’s just hope your baby doesn’t follow in daddy’s footsteps.”

David lunged at him in a fury, but Paul lifted his arm and stepped out of the way, bringing his forearm and elbow down on the man’s back with such force, it once again knocked David to the ground, this time on his stomach and he heard David swear under his breath as he struggled to catch it.

“Next time you want to pick a fight, you come looking for me, buddy, not that you stand a chance, but at least the fight would be slightly more even,” He stated in disgust before he turned and walked into the bar, having told Tess he would let Beth know that Monica would not be in this evening. Then he planned on letting work go tonight and paying a promised visit to check on Monica as after all the time spent today on Lauren’s case, he felt the need to live in the present for a few hours.

Monica awoke with a start, her heart pounding loudly in her chest until she realized she must have fallen back to sleep and that she was still safe in her room. Calming, she looked over at the clock, surprised to see that it was nearly six o’clock in the evening. She sat up cautiously, wincing slightly but a bit relieved that the acute throbbing of her head had subsided to more of an annoying ache.

She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, surprised to find herself a bit unsteady as she made her way over to the dresser and slowly raised her eyes to the mirror. The image reflected there caused tears to prick at the corners of her dark eyes. David had hit her twice, and the area between her jaw and cheekbone was swollen and bruised, though she was sure the bruises would look much worse tomorrow. The image was hard to face and even more difficult to fathom, as she raised her hand to tentatively touch her face, then the bandage on her forehead.

As an angel, she knew she really shouldn’t be concerned with how she looked, but to look at herself was a reminder that she had somehow become a victim and the thought was anything but comfortable. She had helped women and children in the past who suffered from abuse, reminding them that though their fathers may strike them that their heavenly Father’s hands were filled with nothing but love. She had told women who were battered and verbally abused by their husbands or boyfriends that God could heal their hearts and she had believed that the words she had been given to speak were filled with the truth.

But now she was finding herself on the other side of the spectrum, walking in the shoes of every victim she had ever known; feeling what they had been feeling and she now understood just how hard it was to see the truth. To be treated as if she was nothing, as if hurting her made no more difference then swatting at a fly, took something from her heart. Worth.

Monica had always believed that her existence held worth in a hurting world, until now. Until David had disregarded her so completely when he didn’t even know her at all. He made insinuations about her having multiple boyfriends, not knowing nor caring that Andrew and Paul were simply her friends and despite the fact that she was an angel, those words hurt much like the physical blows he had inflicted this morning. She had assignments in the past who had pushed her aside until they were finally ready to hear the truth, but to be so completely disregarded to be struck out against with violence and words left her feeling as if she meant little.

And what did it say about God to allow this to happen to her in the first place? That He had a plan? But why would His plan entail her getting hurt over and over again? Whatever it was He may be trying to teach her, she no longer wanted to learn.

“Angel?”

The sound of Andrew’s voice brought her from her reverie in front of the mirror as she managed a faint smile in his direction, “Hi.”

His brow furrowed in concern, seeing things in her eyes that he didn’t understand and he wondered if once again, she had shifted gears in the way she had been thinking, “How are you feeling?” He approached her carefully and gently touched the backs of his fingers against her face, still able to feel the heat that resonated from her cheek and jaw.

“A little better physically,” She admitted, touching her hand to her forehead once more, “My headache isn’t quite so intense. Where is Tess?”

“Making dinner, as you barely touched your lunch,” He explained, resting his hands on her shoulders to look into her troubled eyes. Though he knew she had agreed to not give up on her assignment, part of him still wished that she hadn’t made that decision. He wanted her kept safe and he had a feeling that if David were involved, she would be anything but that.

His thoughts were interrupted when she leaned into him heavily and he wasted no time in wrapping her up in his arms, “What is it, sweetie?”

“Nothing.” She whispered, closing her eyes as she focused on knowing that she did matter to someone; that there was someone who would never hurt her and whom she could always trust.

The way she clung to him didn’t feel like ‘nothing’, but he accepted the fact that at the moment words were not what she needed. “Let’s get you back to bed,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “Tess will bring in a tray.”

“No. I don’t want to stay in here anymore. I can eat at the table.”

“Whatever you want, Monica.” The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like he was trying to bully her. He had to trust that she knew what she could handle. “Let me just get your robe.”

“What are you doing out here, baby?” Tess exclaimed as she caught sight of the little angel walking down the hall.

“She didn’t feel like staying cooped up in the bedroom,” Andrew answered for her, hopeful that Tess would catch the subtle inflection in his voice and not push. Thankfully, she seemed to understand immediately.

She already had one eyebrow raised in question, but she smoothly pushed aside what she had been prepared to say. “Well, that’s pretty understandable,” she said instead. “Dinner’s still cooking, so you just get all cozy on the sofa and I’ll bring you something to drink.”

“That’s alright, really,” Monica said, her voice sounding strangely hollow to her ears.

Monica made her way to the sofa rather slowly, not wanting to move too fast for fear the dizziness would return. Still, she was grateful that Andrew kept a few steps away from her instead of hovering at her side. She needed him so much, but she didn’t want to have him treating her any more like a delicate flower than he already did.

“You should drink something,” Andrew prodded gently.

He was looking at her not with concern because she had been hurt, but with love simply because of who she was. She reached out to grasp his hand and answered without moving her eyes from his face. “A glass of water would be nice.”

Tess nodded and smiled. She could see that her Angel Boy had things well under control and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Monica glanced around the living room, scenes from the morning replaying in her mind against her will. “You fixed the door,” she said quietly.

Andrew followed her line of sight to the new door, the light colored wood still needing to be painted to match the rest of the woodwork. “Had to do something to keep this little one from escaping,” he joked as he scooped Lucy up from the floor and deposited her on the angel’s lap. He thought his lighthearted approach would be better than telling about how pounding in each nail had been the only way to keep his recently all-too-human temper in control.

It worked. She smiled as soon as Lucy looked into her face. “Well that’s true. I wouldn’t want her running amok… she’s quite ferocious you know,” she teased as she held the kitten up and kissed its little nose.

“Oh, I can see that, Angel,” he smiled, glad to see that she hadn’t lost the last bits of her formerly fun-filled nature.

She was looking up at the door when someone on the other side of it knocked. Even though it was a rather quiet knock, nothing like David’s earlier pounding, she started nonetheless and her grip on Andrew’s hand tightened.

“I’ll get it,” he said reassuringly. “It’s probably Paul. Remember? He promised to stop by.”

He left her sitting very stiffly on the sofa and went to open the door. He swung it wide open, intending to prove himself right, and was a little surprised to find himself looking down at Kristin, her small first still raised.

“Kristin! Come on in,” he said, not noticing that Monica had quickly turned away.

The Irish angel had both hands to her face, gently feeling the bruises and bandage. How was she supposed to let Kristin see her? She had told her she would be fine… that David wouldn’t hurt her… that they were just going to talk. Unfortunately there was no place to run to, and the floor stubbornly refused to open and swallow her up. She kept her eyes fixed on her lap until she felt Kristin sit down beside her.

“Monica?” she said tentatively.

The angel looked up slowly, her eyes going first to Andrew who immediately sensed her distress. She couldn’t ignore the slight gasp from Kristin though, and she made herself look into the woman’s face.

“Oh, my God… Monica…” one hand flew to her mouth while the other reached out helplessly, wanting to do something though she knew there was nothing to do.

“It looks much worse than it is,” Andrew stepped in to fill the silence when he saw that Monica was at a loss for words.

“Yes… really… I’m fine, Kristin,” Monica found her voice at last.

Kristin shook her head. “No you aren’t! He hit you!” Her voice lowered, “He hit you instead of me…”

Monica’s eyes widened and she quickly took Kristin’s outstretched hand. “Kristin, this wasn’t your fault. It was beyond your control.”

“I came to you, Monica… he never would have come up here if I hadn’t run away from him.”

“Getting away was the right thing for you to do, and what happened afterwards wasn’t something you caused. You didn’t want it to happen…”

“Of course not! But it did! Andrew told me how you’ve been trying to help David all this time, and look what it’s gotten you…”

The angel of death was watching Monica very carefully, and when she raised her teary eyes to him he quickly moved closer and sat down on the coffee table, resting a hand on Kristin’s knee. “Monica tried to help because that’s part of who she is,” he explained, “and neither of you have anything to feel guilty about.” His words were pointed and he glanced up at the little angel’s face as he spoke.

She sighed. It was hard to let go of the guilt when it felt like if she had only been able to get through to David earlier then the whole situation could have been avoided. However, one look at Andrew told her that blaming herself wasn’t going to be an option.

Kristin finally got Monica to meet her eyes, and she poured all of her sympathy into that brief connection. “I just wish that things were different,” she said sincerely.

“I know you do… but keep believing… they’ll get better,” Monica assured her, hardly knowing where those words of hope were coming from, but feeling them echo within her own heart.

Another knock sounded at the door and this time it was Kristin’s hand that tightened on Monica’s reassurringly, “Don’t worry. David has barely warmed his stool up at the bar for the duration, so it can’t be him,” She tried to smile, but the expression only came across as seemingly sad.

Tess poked her head out of the kitchen, seeing Kristin, just as Andrew opened the door to Paul. The older angel made her way over to the pregnant woman and looked into her eyes, “Are you all right, baby?”

She looked slightly surprised to see Tess here, but then it faded, deciding that the woman from the Unemployment office could not have chosen better friends, “I will be, Tess.” She replied, having already decided that before David came home tonight, that she would be gone.