CHAPTER 29

Inside the house, Andrew kept shooting frequent glances towards the stable as he helped Paul secure the door with a few new screws. He was willing the angel to come running out of the building, kitten tucked against her chest, face beaming with happiness over having found her missing ‘lamb’. Unfortunately that hadn’t happened, and his heart beat faster with every moment that she was absent. He wondered idly if this was the way Monica had felt the previous night. If so, it was no wonder that she had been so shaken up and unable to sleep.

“That should hold it for now,” Paul said as he finished attaching the last screw, throwing the twisted old one into the trash. “Good thing we keep this place stocked for every eventuality,” he joked, closing the lid on the old toolbox which had obviously seen better days, but which held all of the basic house-hold tools.

Andrew looked up, his own smile not quite making it all the way to his eyes. Paul didn’t seem the least bit concerned, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I hope she found Lucy alright,” he said, half-hoping that it would spur the agent’s natural protectiveness.

Paul was busy putting the toolbox back under the sink, but he answered, his voice sounding echo-y and distant from within the cupboard. “I’m sure she did. She’s probably sitting on a bale of hay, talking Craig’s ear off right about now.” He shut the cabinet door and leaned back on his heels. “Or vice versa… Craig can be a bit of a talker himself,” he continued.

“Well maybe I’ll take an umbrella out to her. She’s bound to be wet already, but no sense letting her get soaked to the skin,” the blond angel said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Good idea,” Paul agreed, and then glanced down at Andrew’s hip, “and for God’s sake, take your gun. I thought I already told you that you should be wearing it all the time now.”

Andrew was fairly certain that God wouldn’t be affected if he didn’t take his gun, but for some reason, for the first time ever, he actually felt compelled to follow Paul’s order. The weapon had been stored in its belt holster in the kitchen drawer, and he pulled it out, and carefully clipped it onto his belt.

“While you’re out there, could you remind Craig that he said he’d work the late shift tomorrow?” Paul asked. “I’m going to check in and see if anyone back at the farm ended up finding anything. I doubt it, but maybe whoever let the bastard in has admitted it by now.”

The cold metal against her skin felt more like a blow to her stomach as she struggled to continue breathing. Her heart was pounding out of control and she wasn’t sure how she was even still conscious. She felt her body begin to shake and her panicked breaths forced involuntary little sounds from her throat, that sounded nearly like the kittens’ mewling cries. She had no idea what would happen to her if he pulled the trigger at that moment; she could feel that she was still in human form, and although she felt God’s presence with her, she knew that she was not going to be transformed into her angelic self.

“It has been fun, hasn’t it,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath sending another shiver through her and bringing hot tears into her eyes, “but I suppose that all good things must come to an end, right?”

“Please…” she managed to croak, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

“Please what?” he answered her. “I think I’ve been quite fair with you.” He moved the gun to trace down the side of her face, and then tapped the top of Lucy’s head with it.

Monica flinched and closed her eyes, hugging Lucy closer and praying that whatever was going to happen wouldn’t take long.

“You know, I had quite a good time with their mother,” his voice was low and filled with venom. “I wanted to do the same to each one of them, but I decided to let you keep them.” He paused and brought the gun back to her temple. “I don’t remember you ever thanking me for that,” he said, pushing the barrel hard against her skin.

The angel’s eyes were open again, staring straight ahead through the tears that filled them. She swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat before speaking. “Thank you,” she whispered, even as her mind flashed back to the terrible images from that other barn.

“That’s better.” He smiled and moved his arm from around her neck.

For a fleeting moment she thought that she might have a chance to break free, but then he was spinning her around and slamming her up against the stall door. She looked away to avoid his cold, depraved stare, but her eyes lit on Craig’s lifeless body and she let out another small cry as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. A rough hand at her chin and the gun jabbing into her ribs made her open them again and she was forced to stare into those soulless eyes. What frightened her most was that they weren’t filled with hatred for her, or even with anger. They were completely devoid of any expression except pleasure, and she couldn’t comprehend that such a man existed.

“I really wanted to gut you like that cat and then watch while your little bodyguards tried to bring you back to life,” he hissed, tightening his grip on her face while her mind spun off in a hundred directions. “Unfortunately that would take a bit more time and my associate is getting antsy.” His face suddenly changed, becoming almost cheerful. “Anyway, I think it might be more fun to watch your face while I kill the two of them.”

“Nooo, please,” the tears finally escaped her eyes and the anguish in her voice was almost palpable. This was a culmination of her worst fears. Paul was completely vulnerable, and even though she knew that Andrew couldn’t be harmed she was terrified of what he might do, and how it would affect him.

“You don’t seem to understand that you don’t have a choice in what happens here,” McArthur said, eyes raking up and down her small body with disdain. “You couldn’t even save that worthless cat you’re holding if I decided to snap its neck right now.”

Monica felt a stream of anger seep up through her fear. How could this man be so evil? Why would God allow this to happen? She had never before doubted His plan or His wisdom, but faced with such evil she couldn’t help but wonder why he had been created in the first place… and how many others were out there just like him. Then McArthur reached for Lucy’s tiny neck and all thoughts other than terror fled from Monica’s mind as she shrank back against the door, trembling and shaking her head.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t like to see that?” he said, mocking her. “Well how about this? How about I just shoot you through the heart right now and leave? Might hurt for a while before you die, but at least your little heroes won’t end up with extra holes in their heads.”

Her face paled, thinking about the possibilities. She still had no idea how she would survive, but she had long since placed her faith in the Father. She knew at that moment that she would do anything to protect Andrew and Paul, and she nodded her head, choking back her emotions.

“How do I know you won’t stay?” she asked, her voice a thin whisper hardly audible above the raging storm.

“Oh, I always keep my word,” he answered, “and besides, I told you I’m under a pressing deadline. I was actually planning on putting a bullet between your eyes all along, but I just wanted to see the look on your face when I made you choose.” He raised the gun, aiming for her heart, his expression full of the deranged pleasure he got from the look of terror in her wide dark eyes.

“Put the gun down!” Andrew’s voice was strong and clear, cutting through the sounds of the rain pounding on the roof and the wind whipping around the stable. He watched as McArthur slowly turned around, all but dragging the little angel with him as she stumbled around to where he held her in front of him, the barrel of the gun once again pressing against her temple.

The older angel’s heart was pounding in his chest as his eyes met with Monica’s, and what he saw there nearly destroyed him. Beyond the tears, beyond the fear, was something he could barely understand and certainly something he had never expected to see in the brown eyes he knew so well. It was as if something was beginning to detach somewhere in the farthest places in her mind.

He had never seen her look so small and helpless and her face was so white, he was afraid she would lapse into unconsciousness at any given moment and he felt his fingers tighten on the gun in his hand, “I said put it down…now.”

McArthur laughed, the sound chilling Monica clear through to the dark recesses of her soul as her small body continued to tremble with more fear than she had ever felt before. The sight of the gun in Andrew’s hand sent a flurry of emotions through her though she was finding it difficult to focus on any given feeling.

“Andrew…go…just go…” Her voice shook so terribly that her words were scarcely understandable as the tears continued to flood her eyes before falling.

The resignation in her words caused another wave of anger at this man to surge through him. He could clearly see that right now, she was sure of how this was going to end and she didn’t want him here to witness it. McArthur had stolen from him the little angel Monica had been weeks ago, before she had first encountered the violent and deranged mind of this one man who was now standing before him. For the first time in his existence, Andrew found himself wanting to wipe that smirk off McArthur’s face in a way that caused as much pain as he had caused to the angel he loved more than any other.

“Yes, Andrew, just go,” McArthur sneered before emitting another laugh, “Your little friend and I have some unfinished business to attend to and I believe she would prefer that it be a private moment.”

“You have no business laying so much as a finger on her,” Andrew snapped, before trying to get a handle on his emotions once more, as anger erupted through him once again, the overpowering feeling nearly overriding his God given common sense, “Now, let her go and I won’t tell you twice.”

“The way I see it,” He smiled, his gaze dropping to Monica, who had closed her eyes once more, tears clinging to her long lashes, “I’m the one holding the cards right now and therefore the one giving the orders. In fact, my suggestion to you would be for you to drop that gun, though she is taking my bullet either way.”

The whimper and small sob that escaped his best friend caused Andrew’s hand to tighten on his own gun until his fingers turned white. Her terror had wrapped itself around his heart with a grip so forceful, it nearly shook him physically and he knew something needed to happen soon as facing this man and all his evilness was slowly destroying her, “She is innocent in all of this, Doug, and you know that. If you hurt her, you are going down, that much I can promise you.”

“I don’t plan on hurting her,” He replied calmly, though his action of pressing the gun more harshly against her head causing her to cry out, was just the opposite of calm, “I plan on killing her. She can’t testify against me if she’s dead.”

Feelings of desperation began to close in on the blond angel as he struggled with what action to take. For the first time in his existence, he had no doubts that if he could, he would hurt another. But to do that ran the risk of hurting Monica, both physically, as McArthur was using her as a human shield, and emotionally. Yet, how could he stand here and watch this man shoot his friend? He knew God was in control, much more so than he was at the moment, but he could also feel the fragility of Monica’s heart and mind right now. The thread was dangerously close to snapping. She had seen too much and felt too much for an angel of her gentle nature and this hatred was the opposite of all she had ever been shown before. Though she had encountered strong willed humans before, this blatant evil went against everything she had ever believed in and over the past few weeks, it had stripped her of her confidence and faith in people, even as she had fought to hold on to those things.

As she opened her eyes, Andrew felt tears sting his own at the near vacant look that dwelled beneath her tears and his heart whispered to her urgently, “Hold on, baby. Stay with me.” But his words to her were met with silence for the first time as she only closed her eyes once more, as if trying to block out that this was even happening. She had no coping mechanisms left and she seemed to only want a resolution, no matter what it might be and that truth terrified him.

“Let her go.” He repeated shakily, though he knew McArthur had no intention of doing so.

“Say good-night, Monica,” McArthur whispered into her ear as his finger began to pull back on the trigger, and he smiled at the soft cries that were escaping her.

The shot rang out and it was deafening as the smell of smoke and gun powder filled the stable and the cry that escaped Andrew’s lips joined the echo of the gun shot as McArthur fell, his body lurching forward against the little angel. Lucy bolted from her arms, the din frightening the little cat, just as the dead weight of the man landed on Monica, who with cries escaping her, as she felt the warm flow of another man’s blood upon her, found it in herself to crawl free, before she all but collapsed against the dirt floor.

As Paul watched the man fall to the floor it was as if something within his soul released. He watched Monica crawling away, and in his heart he could see Lauren, could see his failure finally made right. He hadn’t been able to save her, but he had at least saved Monica. He took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw, forcing his hands to relax their death-grip on the gun.

Andrew felt his heart finally begin to slow down as the wave of shock passed over him and he found himself staring ahead, gun still in hand, now aimed at Paul who was standing in a similar position at the other end of the aisle. The agent was the first to move, holstering his gun, and quickly moving forward. Andrew had to give himself a little shake before he could fully understand what had just taken place. His arm fell limply to his side, gun barely held between his fingers.

The only words in his mind were ‘Thank you, God’ and then he realized that he was thanking God for the death of one of His children. The conflict that rose up within his heart was something that he knew would not easily be resolved, but at the moment he had far more important things to attend to.

Monica was huddled on the floor, her eyes pinned to the lifeless man lying beside her. Andrew saw the horror and desperation in her eyes as he carefully stepped closer. When she turned them up to meet his gaze, a pain tore through his heart and he knew that it was coming straight from hers. He knelt down beside her and fished a handkerchief he didn’t even know he had out of his pocket, using it to wipe away the blood that had splattered on her pale cheek.

“You’re alright… everything’s going to be alright,” he murmured, so grateful that he could at last see an end to this assignment although in his heart he knew that it wasn’t over. He closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take to get back the angel he cared so much about.

“No,” she whispered, barely acknowledging him. “He’s not... he’s not gone,” she kept repeating, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her.

Paul gingerly stepped over McArthur’s body and reached down to feel for a pulse though he knew what he would find. “Yes he is, Monica,” he reassured her. “He’s dead. He can’t hurt you now.” As he moved closer he saw Craig’s body inside the stall and flinched, closing his eyes at yet another innocent life lost and knowing that the killer had probably used it to torment the woman before him.

“Andrew,” she said piteously, “I can’t do this… I can’t…”

Both he and Paul were becoming increasingly concerned and they feared she was going into shock. “Look at me,” Andrew said. “Please try to calm down. You need to calm down.”

He pulled her close, despite the fact that Paul was standing right over them. He could feel her heart pounding within her chest, and her quick breaths were more like gasps, laced with tears and hardly enough to bring air into her body. Lucy clambered into her lap, seeming to sense her distress, and started licking at her fingertips. That was the first thing to pull the little angel out of her trance-like state, and she finally broke down, sobbing against Andrew’s shoulder, and clutching the kitten with one hand as if her very life depended on it.

“Oh, Father, please, please, let me come Home,” she cried. “Please don’t make me stay here any longer… I can’t… I’m so tired…”

If Paul was bewildered by Monica’s words, he chose to conceal it. However, when she abruptly pushed away from Andrew, her face taking on a completely different expression, he couldn’t help but step closer, his own expression one of complete confusion.

Andrew, meanwhile, didn’t appear confused at all, merely resigned. He knew that Monica had her answer. It pained him to let her go, but he knew that she needed comfort that even he couldn’t provide.

“He says I can go Home,” her voice was filled with awe. “Tess is waiting for me.”

Andrew glanced at Paul and then back to Monica, unsure of how Paul would respond, but knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said.

Her eyes grew wide as if she suddenly realized that Andrew would not be going with her. “Come now,” she pleaded, unwilling to let go of his hand.

“Angel, you know I can’t.” He hated being the cause of more tears, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Go on, now. Go to Him.”

She nodded slowly, and then looked at Paul, wishing that she had the words to give him that would explain everything, but she was beyond words. She simply gave him a tearful smile and then closed her eyes. A moment later she was gone, along with the little kitten she had been holding close to her chest.