A Brush of Wings (33 page)

“I know.” Mary Catherine didn’t want to think about this, but what choice did she have? “But a baby deserves a mom who can be at his graduation . . . wait with her in the bride room at her wedding.” She blinked and two more tears slid down her cheeks. “You know?”

“Mary Catherine.” Marcus looked at her, his kindness and compassion so strong it took her breath. “Who of us by worrying can add a single day to our lives?” He kissed her lips and searched her eyes again. “None of us is guaranteed tomorrow.”

She thought about the Scripture he was quoting. He was right. If God wanted her to live another twenty years or forty, then He would make that happen. Whether she needed five more surgeries or whether God gave her the miracle some other way.

Mary Catherine refused to voice more fears or concerns. “You think . . . this is God’s plan? This baby?” She studied Marcus’s reaction. But the only thing she saw was the beginning of a smile. One that eventually filled his entire face.

“Yes!” He helped her to her feet and faced her, his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, I do.”

“So we’ll have a baby in less than five months?”

“We will.” Marcus’s smile faded. “Then we bring that baby home and we raise it as our own.” Each word was like a declaration. “We teach him or her about Jesus and we believe that God will use that child to change the world.”

Mary Catherine nodded. She was too overcome to speak.

“We do that . . .” Marcus took gentle hold of her face, his words more of a proclamation. “And we remind ourselves every day along the way that the Lord chose us to be that baby’s parents.”

There was no need to ask him if he was serious. Other than the day in the hospital when he had asked her to be his wife, Marcus had never been more serious. Mary Catherine was certain.

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Both of them had tears on their cheeks when they pulled back. She wondered whether she’d ever been this happy. “We’re going to have a baby!” She tipped her head back and said it louder. “We’re going to have a baby! I can’t believe it!”

Marcus pumped his fist in the air and shouted across the stadium. His words were something Mary Catherine wasn’t sure she’d ever hear him say. “I’m going to be a father!”

They called Lexy on the way home and told her the news. Yes, they wanted to adopt the baby. They couldn’t be more excited. They asked if they could tell everyone at Thanksgiving dinner that night.

Lexy sounded a little subdued, but still happy. “Tell everyone.” Her smile filled the phone line. “I’ll see you all later.”

When they reached Marcus’s house, they sat in his car and tried to grasp all God had done. Then Marcus took her hands and they prayed, thanking God for saving Mary Catherine’s life and letting her live. They thanked Him for giving them another chance at love and for their wedding coming up in just a handful of days. And finally they thanked God for the tiny baby He had chosen for them.

All things Mary Catherine never dreamed she’d have.

The prayer brought new meaning to the holiday and Mary Catherine was convinced that whatever Thanksgiving Days the future held, none of them would ever be as rich and meaningful as this one. The day the Lord revealed his very great plans not only for them.

But for their child.

25

T
HE MURDER WAS SET
to go down at eight o’clock that night.

Beck had been stalking Ramon since that morning, when he first got word from Orlon. He knew the full story now. Until today, the leader of the West Knights had no idea what happened to Lexy. He’d been by her grandmother’s house and even thought about shooting the older woman. Just to make Lexy think about what she’d done. In the end he spared the grandmother’s life for one reason.

She wasn’t worth serving time for.

Lexy, on the other hand . . . she was a different story.

Beck knew all of this, because he’d been watching Ramon for seven hours, ever since the texting that started between him and Lexy. Beck had been listening to him, waiting on him. Aspyn and Ember were nearby. They’d called on a team of angels to stand guard at Lexy’s grandma’s house.

But even then Beck knew it would take all they had to stop Ramon from killing Lexy tonight. Lexy and her unborn baby. From the place where Beck and Jag waited, invisible, Ramon stood and paced the alleyway. “No girl dumps me, the leader of West Knights, and gets away with it.”

Beck watched three other West Knights sitting on trashcans, smoking pot. “Take her out, Ramon.” One of the guys raised his joint in the air. “That’ll teach her.”

“What about her grandma?” Another one took a long drag from his joint. “You gonna shoot her, too?”

Beck saw Ramon glare at the guy. “I’ll kill anyone who gets in the way.” He rattled off a string of cuss words. “That whore is finished.”

Jag was suddenly at Beck’s side. “I’ll call the police.”

“Yes. You and Aspyn.” Beck kept an eye on Ramon. “She’s a volunteer for the Youth Center. The police will believe her.”

“You’ll stay here? With Ramon?”

“Yes.” Beck clenched his jaw. “I won’t leave his side.” Beck was already moving closer to Ramon.

“Good.” Jag looked relieved. “People like Ramon . . . they don’t bring out the best in me.”

The two angels committed to pray about the night ahead. Whatever happened, the outcome was highly critical to the mission. Every one of them knew that much. Beck watched Jag leave. Then he anchored himself a few feet from Ramon. In the near distance the air filled with silent screeches, the hissing of an army of demons.

An hour and a six-pack of beer later, Ramon coughed. “I’m ready.” He pointed to the youngest gang members. “Load my gun. You’re going with me.” He looked at another. “You, too.”

The two guys—both sixteen years old—immediately responded. One loaded Ramon’s revolver. The other took up his place at Ramon’s side. “Let’s do this.”

Ramon smiled as he took his gun. “She won’t know what hit her.”

Beck trailed them as they walked three blocks past the Youth Center, turned left, and headed straight for the house where Lexy and her grandmother and her mother were finishing Thanksgiving dinner. A cloud of darkness gathered around the place, held off only by a hedge of angels—all called in especially for this stage of the mission.

The enemy’s forces hissed and bellowed in anticipation of what was coming.

In a rush, Aspyn was at Beck’s side, the two of them moving just above Ramon and his boys. “She’s expecting him.” Aspyn had never looked more concerned. “They’ve been texting all day. She thinks it’s a reunion.”

Beck felt sick. “You think she’ll come out to meet him?”

“I do.” Aspyn pointed at three unmarked police cars parked in an empty lot across the street from Lexy’s house. The officers were armed and hiding behind their cars. Ready. “The police have been notified. They know something’s going down.”

Beck had never been more concerned. “But Lexy . . . if she runs out now . . .”

“Exactly.” Aspyn breathed deep. “She’ll get caught in the crossfire.”

If Ramon weren’t so drunk and drugged, he would’ve noticed the police cars. They weren’t that well hidden. Instead he reached Lexy’s house, pulled out his phone, and sent a text.

Beck could see every word.

Baby, I’m here . . . come on out.

“Father, delay her! In Jesus’ name!” Beck shouted the prayer. All around him he could hear other angels doing the same thing. Aspyn and Jag and Ember. But also a host of angels. The battle had never been so intense. Beck raised his voice again. “Keep her inside. Please, God.”

Jag appeared then, towering in his police uniform. He stepped out of the bushes between Lexy’s house and the waiting police officers and shouted at Ramon. “Hey! What are you doing?”

In an instant, Ramon drew his gun and aimed in Jag’s direction. But Jag disappeared before the kid could fire. At the same time the waiting police officers used a bullhorn. “Drop the weapon and put your hands up.”

Instead, Ramon fired three rounds at the officers. The policemen ducked behind their cars, and chaos followed. Ramon’s fellow gang members opened fire, too. But one of them was too close to Ramon.

Beck held his breath, praying Lexy would stay inside until the danger passed.

On the fourth shot, Ramon took a bullet in the upper back. He dropped to the ground, motionless.

“No! What’d you do?” The other gang member screamed at the one who had made the mistake. “You shot Ramon! Are you serious?”

“Get your hands up!” It was one of the police officers, still behind the line of squad cars. “Now!”

Both gang members threw their hands in the air. One of them yelled. “Someone call 9-1-1. Ramon’s been shot!”

Thank You, Father . . . thank You.” Beck rose to his full height and looked the darkness straight on. “Be gone. In the name of Jesus!”

The cloud of evil withdrew, but not completely. Never completely.

Lexy ran out the door then and immediately she saw Ramon bleeding on the ground, his friends with their hands up. “No! Ramon . . . no!”

She ran toward him, but at the same time Ramon reached for his gun. He cussed because he couldn’t grab it. His injuries were too grave. Instead he glared at Lexy. “No one walks out . . . on the leader of . . . the West Knights!”

“Ramon, what are you doing?” Lexy shrieked. “What happened?”

Again he tried to grab his gun, but before he could find the strength, he passed out.

Police rushed the scene and handcuffed the younger gang guys. A paramedic was called for Ramon. Beck was suddenly surrounded by Jag and Aspyn and Ember. The four of them hugged for a long time. Then they formed a circle and prayed. They thanked God that on this Thanksgiving Day, Lexy Jones had been allowed to live.

Light had overcome the darkness—at least for Lexy and her baby.

And then the angels prayed for a single mom seven blocks away who—later tonight—would get word that her son wasn’t only in trouble again.

He was dead.

26

E
VEN THE WEATHERMEN SAID
it was the most beautiful December third that Southern California had ever seen. Sami wasn’t surprised. God had done the miraculous time and again to bring this day together.

Of course He would give them beautiful weather, too.

Before the guests arrived, Sami and Mary Catherine walked out to where a hundred and fifty chairs were set up. The management of the Ritz-Carlton had given them the prettiest grassy knoll on the property. Each of the chairs was covered in white satin with white bows tied in the back. The only thing that would separate their guests from the stunning view of the ocean were two lattice archways.

The spot where later today Sami would stand with Tyler, and Mary Catherine with Marcus.

“It feels like a dream.” Mary Catherine stood beside her best friend.

“Especially with that view.” Sami stared out at the ocean. The temperature was sixty-eight and climbing. By the time the wedding started at four o’clock it was supposed to be in the low seventies. “It couldn’t be more perfect.”

They had three hours before the ceremony, thirty minutes before they’d do hair and makeup in the bridal room. They would be each other’s maids of honor. Sami had three of her UCLA friends as bridesmaids. Mary Catherine’s bridesmaids were three of her friends from Nashville, girls she’d grown up with.

They had each written their own vows and picked their own cakes. Most of the Dodgers organization had been invited—guests Mary Catherine would’ve invited, too. The idea of a double wedding not only worked—but it was giving them the chance to share their special day in a way they would remember forever.

“Lexy will be here soon.” Mary Catherine checked the time on her phone. One of the bridesmaids was bringing her earlier than the other guests. She wanted to be in the bridal room—just to have a reason to be happy. “Poor girl.”

“I told her not to respond to Ramon’s texts or calls.” Sami sighed. Her heart broke for Lexy. “Now she thinks it’s her fault. That if she hadn’t been texting Ramon, he wouldn’t have come to her grandmother’s house to kill her.” She paused. “No logic at all.”

“I’m glad she’s seeing a Christian counselor.” Mary Catherine looked out at the ocean. “She can’t go back to the old neighborhood again. Lexy knows that now.”