CHAPTER 24

Andrew stared at the doors that Monica had been pushed through on a gurney for several long minutes after she had vanished from his sight to be taken into surgery. He felt numb, but he had still noticed the grim looks on the medical staff’s faces when she had been brought into the hospital. Their expressions told him that her condition was not only bad, but also critical.

The last hour felt more like a nightmare than anything that could possibly contain a shred of truth and reality. He had watched as the EMTs had worked over her small body in the hotel and he had never before felt more helpless. He had only wanted to gather her close and love away the pain she had been in, but it hadn’t been possible and he was struggling with why God had allowed this to happen in the first place.

He looked down at himself, realizing that the blood of his dearest friend was on his shirt and the reality of it settled in once more, nearly buckling his knees as he sank down into a chair.

“I’m bleeding….”

He remembered her words after David had hit her as he dropped his head into his hands for a moment before whispering to the agent who was sitting next to him, “What happened? I need to know…” Andrew wasn’t sure if that was the truth or if he only had to do something to pass time.

Paul glanced over at his friend, noting how Andrew never once raised his head and he struggled to keep his anger at bay, “Mike is the one who turned against us…the agency…he was one getting paid to divulge information as to where the witnesses were being hidden. I figured it out tonight. Somehow, Monica did too,” He closed his eyes, despising the facts of the entire night, “Mike paid off David to kill me and she knew it and showed up at the hotel. David was already there holding a gun on me. The stupid bastard was terrified. He wanted to let her go, but she refused to leave. She wasn’t supposed to get hurt…”

“Then how did she?” He asked tensely, finally raising his head to meet Paul’s expression with his glassy green eyes.

Paul was quiet for a moment, still almost unable to fathom what had occurred, “She took the bullet that David intended for me…he was aiming for me, not her, but she saw what was about to happen and she stopped it…”

She had saved Paul’s life. The realization took Andrew’s breath away. The angel who had been questioning everything she did, felt guilty for all that had happened so far and was convinced that she had done nothing right, had not hesitated in putting her safety on the line for a friend. He had a feeling that in part, she had seen it as her failure with David putting Paul in danger and she had been unable to allow that to happen, but whatever her reasons, the outcome didn’t change, no matter how badly he wanted it to.

He felt a surge of anger flow through him at her assignment and he had a feeling that if his path ever crossed with that of David again, that there would be no stopping him from acting on that anger and that David had better be praying that it was the police or Paul who reached him first.

“She’ll be fine, right?”

Andrew heard the uncertainty in Paul’s voice and tried to sound hopeful, despite his own worries. He had never been in this situation before. The territory was completely unfamiliar to him and the only thing he was certain of was that Monica had been dying on that hotel floor, “She has to be.”

The stark black and white clock on the wall ticked off the passing minutes with agonizing slowness as Paul walked up and down the length of the room casting occasional glances at Andrew. Three hours had passed and the angel had barely moved. He sat with his head cradled in his hands, only glancing up to check the time before lowering his face once again. Paul guessed that he was praying and wondered if he should do the same.

Even after all that had happened he still found prayer to be a foreign concept. He had spoken to God once, in the barn right after Andrew had revealed himself to be an angel, but since that time he had gone back to keeping his own counsel. Paul wasn’t a man easily given to opening himself up or asking for help.

He stopped his pacing for a moment and looked down the hall towards the surgery. If his prayer had even a chance of helping Monica then he was willing to lay himself bare and beg for her life. He sank into a chair near Andrew and leaned back, closing his eyes and willing God to hear his unfamiliar voice.

The doctors, nurses and other workers who passed through the waiting room sensed the pall that hung over the room. They lowered their voices and softened their footsteps. Whatever tragedy had taken place they did not want to add to the pain of it.

“Andrew?” Tess’ concerned and comforting voice was the most welcomed sound he had heard since arriving at the hospital.

He looked up at her, his face taut with worry and fear. “You know what happened,” he said, seeing the knowledge written on her anxious features.

“Yes. The Father let me know almost as soon as it happened.”

Andrew was surprised by that. “Where have you been?” His eyes clouded. “Tell me that you weren’t sent to David first.”

Tess heard the barely contained anger in his voice and quickly sat down, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “No, baby. I was in with our Angel Girl.”

As soon as Tess had appeared, Paul had moved to join the two angels and now his eyes widened. “You were in surgery with her? How is she? She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?” His questions were quick and demanding.

Andrew, on the other hand, said nothing. He knew what it meant to have an angel by your side in such a situation. It meant you were walking the fine line between life and death. He lowered his eyes, unable to comprehend such a fact.

“God will tell me when I need to go to her, won’t he?” he said miserably. “I’m not letting anyone else do it. She asked for me.”

Tess straightened up in her seat and Paul took a step back as if Andrew’s defeated words had dealt him a physical blow. “Now listen to me, Andrew, I don’t want to hear talk like that coming from your mouth. God didn’t send me to her to watch her die. He sent me to hold her and help her live!”

The older angel’s eyes were flashing and when Andrew looked into them he was overcome by two feelings; hope and shame. In his heart he had nearly given up on the little angel. He wasn’t sure exactly what would become of her if she died but he had begun to ask God to help him through the loss.

“Now get that look right off your face, Angel Boy,” Tess said sternly. “She’s not going to need a whole lot of long faces when she wakes up.”

“Tess, I… I’m sorry… I just keep seeing her on the floor and I…”

“For a second there you forgot about the miracles that He performs every day.

Andrew nodded. “I’ve been sitting here asking God to help her, asking for His healing, and believing that he would give it, but when you said you’d been with her…”

Tess smiled kindly. “Well I guess that was sort of my fault. I guess I should have told you why I was there first.”

Paul had been following the conversation between the two angels, eyes moving rapidly between them, and he couldn’t remain silent any longer. “So what is happening?” he asked with a hint of desperation in his tone. “Is she going to be okay? Is God going to heal her?”

“Oh, Paul, I’m sorry,” Tess said with a little shake of her head. Paul had become such a fixture lately that it was easy to forget that he wasn’t an angel as well. “She will be alright, but as for God healing her… I can’t tell you that.”

The agent was about to ask why, but he was interrupted by the arrival of several doctors who came into the room still untying their surgical masks. “How is she?” he asked, before the two angels could even open their mouths.

He knew he was being pushy and demanding, but it seemed beyond his control. While Tess and Andrew were worried, his anxiety was compounded by guilt. She had taken a bullet meant for him. How could he even begin to explain the intense feeling of responsibility that filled his heart?

“You all came in with Monica Doe?” one of the doctors asked.
“That’s right,” Tess answered. “We’re very closer friends.”
The doctor nodded. “I’m Dr. Harris, and this is Dr. Boyle. We’ve been the ones working on your friend.”

“How is she doing?” Andrew asked, repeating Paul’s insistent question.

“Frankly, she’s doing better than expected considering the amount of blood loss,” Dr. Harris replied. “The bullet went through her shoulder blade and then nicked her lung before hitting her third rib and passing out through her chest. Thankfully the damage to her shoulder bone was minimal, but there was extensive soft tissue damage and we did have to rebuild part of her rib with pins.”

“But she’ll recover, won’t she?” Paul asked, taking a step closer.

“She’ll need therapy for that shoulder but she should get back at least ninety percent mobility,” Dr. Boyle answered.
Paul was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she was hurt at all. Wasn’t this where God was supposed to swoop down and transform her into the same glowing form that Andrew had taken on? Wasn’t this where He came in and made her as good as new again?

“When will we be able to see her?” Tess asked the question that he knew was foremost in all their minds.

“She’s being wheeled to recovery right now and in about an hour we’ll have her set up in a room on the third floor.”

“An hour?” Andrew’s face showed his disappointment.

Tess shot the doctors a quick pleading look that held a touch of the stubbornness that was her hallmark. They wisely reevaluated their statement.

“We could probably allow one of you to see her now,” Dr. Harris offered.

Andrew looked relieved but then he glanced around at Paul. He knew that the agent was almost as eager to see her as he was.

“You go on, buddy. I’ll head upstairs with Tess.”

“Thanks, Paul. I’ll make sure to tell her you’re waiting for her.”

“I know you will,” Paul said, and then he watched as the doctors led Andrew down the hall towards the little angel he owed his life to.

With the doctor’s instructions to not stay too long, Andrew slowly opened the door to Monica’s recovery room and with one look at his friend his heart filled with love for her as if he were feeling such an emotion for the first time.

Her dark lashes lay upon pale skin, the color of her face causing the bruises from two days ago to appear even more dark and ominous. Her arm rested in a sling against her torso, in order to limit movement of her shoulder and for the first time he realized it was the same arm as her sprained wrist and he was relieved that she would at least have use of one arm until she either healed or the Father healed her. Secretly, he was hoping she was given recovery time as opposed to a miraculous healing. He wanted her to have time to rest and to get her bearings from the battle zone she had just come in from.

Unable to wait another second, Andrew approached the little angel, who was lying so still, noting just how small and vulnerable she looked right now and he felt his anger towards David resurfacing once more. Forcing himself to push it aside, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, before resting his own forehead against hers.

“I love you so much, angel,” He whispered, hoping that on some level she could sense his presence. He knew how much it frightened her to be hurt, and he wanted to be able to reassure her, “You’re going to be fine, sweetie, just fine.”

Seeing a stool near the bed, he caught it with his foot and pulled it close as he took her hand into his, wanting to maintain contact with her. Resting the back of her hand against his cheek as he sat down, he thought about all of the things he wanted to tell her, but as he was unsure if she could hear him, he elected to wait for most of them. He wanted to make sure she was listening before he told her how proud he was of her and how brave she had been.

“Paul cannot wait to see you,” He continued softly, his free hand moving to stroke her hair which was fanned out over her pillow, “You saved his life, Monica, of that I am certain. He’s okay, other than being worried about you and he knows who was behind all of this, so you have nothing to worry about except for getting better.”

He felt his eyes clouding as he gazed down at her and his voice became thick with emotion, “You are so brave, angel, regardless of what you may think. But I know the truth and so does Paul. The Father knew it all along.”

Knowing he shouldn’t stay, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, hating to leave her if only for less than an hour, “I have to go, but I’ll see you upstairs very soon. Rest, sweet angel. God is holding you in the palm of His hand.”