Angel's Hero

Chapter 31

Michelle charged as Owen aimed the gun at her.
Angel jumped him from behind, and pulled his arm up and away.
The bullet went wide.
Michelle, bringing forward all the rage she'd felt over the years towards this man, slammed her closed fists into his face, joining them together and swinging her arms to connect with his nose as her friend used her legs and arms and weight to bring him to the ground.
Both women were screaming as they attacked.
Guttural sounds ripped from their throats as they fought for their lives.
Owen, blood spurting from his nose fought Angel off, throwing her to the floor of the boat.
He brought his gun hand up again, and this time, when Michelle charged him, she gripped his wrist and lifted it above her head, closing her finger over his trigger finger, and pulled repeatedly.
He fired off round after round. One of the spent bullet casings landed in the crook of her collarbone, burning her.
It only spurred her strength, turning her shouts into snarls as she brought her knee up, and connected with the sensitive flesh of his crotch.
His breath exploded from his lungs, and the warm air hit Michelle in the face, the sour stench making her eyes water.
The gun flew from his fingers, and bounced towards the back of the boat.
Shaking her hands off, Owen threw her aside before planting a kick to her ribs.
Winded, Michelle could only lie there and watch as Angel jumped up and attacked.
Angel ran at him, and ducked her shoulder into his side, wrapping her arms around his legs. With a shout she heaved, and they both went sprawling to the deck, the slippery surface slick with seawater, gas, and sprays of blood from Owen's clearly broken nose.
Angel jumped up quickly though and lifted her leg to kick him, raising her leg high and slamming her foot down.
Before she could connect the sole of her shoe to his face, Owen rolled with the gently swaying boat, into Angel's other leg, and took her down again.
Gasping now, Michelle watched as Angel and Owen gained their feet, both breathing heavily, Angel wiping blood from her face, from where she'd caught it against the side of the boat as she'd fallen.
Owen spat, the bloody spittle landing at her feet, the two of them eyeing each other out, and heaving their breaths.
They charged each other, and Michelle could have cheered when Angel landed a solid punch to Owens mid section.
Getting caught up in the triumph of the wheezing man doubled over in front of her, Angel turned to smile at Michelle, still sitting on the other side of the boat, clutching her side, a familiar ache there indicating cracked ribs.
Michelle sat up, and watched the next few moments happening in slow motion.
She watched as her ex-husband straightened, and Angel, still smiling, angled her body in a fighter's stance and brought her right leg round to kick Owen in the chest.
Owen caught her leg, held it against him for a moment, before pulling Angel towards him, and throwing his head forward, he headbutted her.
She crumbled, unconcious, and using the momentum of the rolling waves, and their position against the railing, he toppled her overboard between the two vessels.
"NO!" Michelle scrambled to her feet, but stopped as Owen, no longer bracing his hands on the side to look over into the dark depths below, turned his evil stare on to her.
"Now you, bitch," he snarled. "Now you die. Finally."
The sky over head burst into action, as a bright light sliced over them from the helicopter in the distance.
Michelle hadn't even noticed the sound during the scuffle.
Angel! I need to get to Angel!
She saw her moment.
Michelle rushed Owen as he looked away from her, out to the ocean where the hovering light moved around them again, settling on them from the distance.
He tripped over Jenna as she planted both hands into his chest, and fell splashing into the puddle at the back between the exposed motor, and the bench fixed to the side, stuck like a turtle.
Angel would drown! She had to get to her.
Moving to the railing her friend had disappeared over a few minutes before, her foot connected with something, sending it skittering. The orange metal shone in the wavering light.
She grabbed the flare gun she'd forgotten in her first charge, having dropped it at the beginning of their tussle, and stepping up onto the side, looked down at Owen.
Her hand squeezed tight around the railing above the cabin, the man lying at the back had his wide eyes fixed on her. Michelle raised her arm straight up. Her eyes never leaving his, her thumb pulled the hammer back, getting ready to send the flare straight up and indicate their position.
Not being able to think of anything clever to say, as he stared up at her, Michelle said simply, "Fuck you, Owen."
He smirked, and a flash of light from above showed her the gun he had somehow managed to regain. He was bringing the barrel around to her, still lying stuck.
Michelle dropped her arm and aimed the flare at him.
She pulled the trigger, and jumped into the water as soon as the boat erupted into flames, and dove down into the cold darkness.
Her hands and arms stretched towards the pale figure below her, lit up dimmly by the flames overhead.
Lungs screaming, eyes burning from the salt water, Michelle dove deeper.

*

"Conner! The boats on fire!"
"Oh, Jesus, no!"
They were already travelling at top speed as the small fishing boat in front of them erupted into flames, the bright burning fingers travelling quickly across the frame of the vessel.
Conner brought their boat as close as he could to the flames without risking the pontoon of their craft.
Screams of someone burning alive filled the suddenly silent air.
Other boats milled around them, circling the flames, their handheld torch lights pointing motionlessly at the black surface of the sea, looks of horror plastered to their faces.
The shouts of pain ended shortly, and soon the helicopter was overhead, whipping the flames manically.
Conner waved his arms, and grabbed the radio telling his father to back off, but it was too late, the boat was completely engulfed, and he could see no way onto it to search for the women. He only hoped they made it out of there.
"Where are they? I don't see them!" Robert was frantic.
He stood leaning onto the inflated pontoon of their boat scanning the flames.
Conner felt his own panic reach it's peak.
"Angel!"
"Michelle! Answer me! "
Where were they?
There they stood, the two of them shoulder to shoulder, staring at the flames in front of them, calling the names of their women.
Hoping. Pleading. Bargaining with all the gods above.
Someone was moving on the large yacht, and Conner, briefly struck with hope that it was Angel, was crushed when he noticed one of his deputies at the large silver wheel as they towed the catamaran away from the flames.
Surely if Angel was on board the luxury vessel, they would have been found?
Where was Owen? Michelle?
Who had been screaming?
Conner felt tears in his eyes and acid in his gut as he realized what must be truth.
His knees buckled and he brought his hands to his face as Robert continued to call out, his own voice hoarse with emotion.
"Goddamit, Michelle! Michelle! Where are you?"
"Over here! Help me!"
The men snapped sideways, Conner shooting to his feet, and steadying himself against the steering wheel, his swift movement having almost sending him overboard.
They scanned the dark waters, highlighted with orange flecks from the increasing flames.
"Michelle!"
Robert didn't hesitate and dove into the water, and swam the few feet towards her.
Conner stood frozen on the boat, watching as his friend raced towards Michelle, his stomach churning.
Where was Angel? Was she lost to him?
He dropped his head backwards briefly as his misery settled over his shoulders.
Conner turned to look over the side towards the fishing boat, and at Agent Du Pont standing on the yacht away from them. She looked pretty busy, but she threw him a look. He didn't care.
He'd deal with her later.
Angel was gone. His heart broke.
"Conner!"
Head shooting up, he saw by the flickering firelight and angled searchlight, that Robert and Michelle held up a third person.
"Angel!" Hope surged.
Without pausing to think, he followed Robert over into the water.
The cold ocean water closed over him like an icy blanket, constricting his chest, and forcing the air out of his lungs.
He pumped his legs, and broke the surface in a full freestyle, his high school years of swimming paying off. Nothing could have prepared him for the cold though, and he was soon out of breath.
He closed the distance as fast as he could, and reached the others a minute later.
As he got to them, he had to fight not cry out at the sight of Angel, bruised, grey and lifeless with her head thrown back onto Robert's shoulder.
He looked between the other two faces, their eyes large and blinking rapidly, fear etched in deeply.
"Quick, we have to get her out of the water. I need to start CPR," Conner said.
He took her weight and swam back to the abandoned boat making sure to keep Angel's head above water.
He'd never done a water rescue before, but the basic principle of swimming on his back, keeping her afloat on his chest worked fine.
Water splashed into his mouth as he looked behind him for direction, and saw Robert pulling himself up, before reaching back and lifting Michelle out and he wrapped his arms around her.
One of the residents, Charlie, the florist, had come over to the side of their boat, and stopped the police boat from floating away, and was still there, straddling the two pontoons, using his legs to hold them together.
Another man on board Charlie's rubber duck had climbed over, and was busy draping a large blanket over the couple holding each other tightly, before he moved to the side as Conner reached it.
The man Conner didn't know, but would always remember, helped to pull Angel from the water, placing her on the floor gently.
A torrent of water streamed over the pontoon as Conner pulled himself up with nearly numb limbs. Even in the height of summer, the ocean temperature remained low.
Moving towards her limp body, Conner wondered how long Angel had been under for.
"Get us to shore," Conner shot over his shoulder as he tilted Angel's chin up.
Conner felt for a pulse, and got nothing. He dropped his ear to listen to her chest, and heard nothing.
"Yes, sir,' came the reply, the man who'd helped him, moved behind the partition that held the wheel.
The engine turned over.
Returning his attention to Angel, Conner shrugged the wet shirt from his shoulders. He'd lost a few buttons, and torn the sleeve climbing back aboard, and the wet material clung to him, restricting his movements.
Bare-chested, he went to work, slipping easily into the training he insisted all of his staff kept up to date with. He'd seen CPR save lives out on the battlefield, so he knew Angel's best chance was to keep going until they reached the marina, and the helipad there, so they could get her to the nearest hospital.
Conner, continuing chest compressions, paused only for the breath he needed to blow into her.
She was too cold.
Elbows locked, his arms straight, he counted to thirty again. He spoke to Michelle as the couple moved to the floor of the boat beside him, using the pontoon as a shield against the rushing air.
"How long was she under?"
"Not long," Michelle had to raise her voice, her own lips blue. "She went over less than a minute before the flames started, but she was already unconscious." She turned her face into Robert's neck as he closed the blanket, and his arms around them more firmly.
"Owen knocked her out, and then threw her in. He threw her away, like trash. I swam as hard as I could, but still had to come up for air. I saw her, but couldn't reach her," Her voice broke. "I heard you calling me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I had to get her. It's so cold."
Michelle's face crumpled as she gave into the fear, and tears. She sobbed as Robert held her close, and whispered to her.
Conner listened, but kept focus. He stared at Angel, her body jerking under the pressure of his compressions.
"Come on, baby, open your eyes. Come on!" Conner shouted as they bounced along.
"Where's Owen?" Robert asked.
"In the fire," Michelle said flatly.
So that's who'd been screaming. But how had they gotten away?
He shook his head. Conner couldn't focus on that. He had to get Angel breathing.
It had been almost two minutes since they'd pulled her on board.
"How long was she under?" Conner asked again, not knowing what else to say, but needing to say something.
"Not long, about two minutes. Maybe three," Michelle winced as they hit a rough patch, and bounced hard.
"That's good, that's good," Conner continued, his motions turning frantic. "See, Angel? You weren't under long. So you're just cold. Open your eyes for me. Come on, open them and look at me with those amazing eyes. Come on, Angel. Wake up!"
They hit another wave, and this time, Conner felt himself lift into the air as the boat dropped down again. He threw himself forward to grab Angel's lifting body, and he grunted as they landed. His supporting arm gave out and his full weight hit her, and the hollow sound of her back slamming into the deck had him shouting out to the man in control to stop.
"Easy there, man!" Robert called out.
"Sorry! Rough patch, hang on!" The man yelled back.
Conner could only hang onto Angel underneath him, and winced as they bounced a few more times. He had no space to change their positions, and he dropped onto her a few more times.
When they leveled out, Conner sat back quickly to continue ministering chest compressions, when Angel's back arched.
She coughed.
Water poured from her mouth, and Conner collapsed backwards, pulling Angel's opposite shoulder towards him, holding her on her side, his chest heaving.
"Ohthankyougod," he smiled brightly, dropping his head back against the helm.
Michelle jumped forward and patted Angel's back as she convulsed until she was gasping.
"Good girl, get it all out. Good, that's good," Michelle looked up at Robert, who had a massive grin on his face.
Weeping, Michelle laid her head onto Conner's shoulder as he cried himself, quietly, in relief.
He listened to Angel breathing for the next few minutes, and relished in the sound her being alive.
He opened his eyes and tension flew from his shoulders as the lights of the harbor grew brighter, the speed they travelled at closed the distance quickly.
"Conner?"
Releasing her shoulder so she could roll onto her back again, she looked up at him, her eyes round and bright in her pale face. The cuts and bruises were dark, a stark contrast.
Sighing, he pulled her into his arms, adjusting his seat on the floor of the boat, so his legs spread on either side of her, and he could hold her to his chest, hoping his body heat would help. He dropped his head to hers.
"I'm here," he said against her temple. "You're here. We're alright."
"Owen?"
"I set him on fire," Michelle said, and laughed at the look Angel threw at her.
Michelle moved back into Robert's arms and pulled the blanket closed around them after tossing a second, larger and thicker blanket over, which Conner caught in one hand, and quickly spread out over them. He kept the other hand running up and down Angel's arm.
Angel's cheeks were beginning to flush with color, and fresh blood dripped from the slices on her face, but her lips were still tinged with blue, and her eyes were overly bright. He worried she was in shock.
The boat slowed down as it approached the harbor, and the last portion of the journey went by silently as Angel relaxed into his warmth, and she matched her breathing to his.
Conner was holding Angel to him tightly, his heart still not quite recovered from the sight of her in the water, death clinging to her.
There was a commotion as they pulled into the harbor and people flocked down the small hillside and crowded around. Bright lights had been turned on so the entire area was lit up. Everyone wanted to help. Hands reached out to tie the boat, and voices were raised, all calling out to Angel and Michelle, asking if they were safe.
Conner saw his mother and Sienna, along with Raymond carrying the baby in a sling, Yvonne at his side, and Bo and Shelby, and their kids, standing near the dock edge, on solid ground, their necks craned to see over the heads of the crowd.
The deputies Conner had deployed earlier were among the first to greet them on the deck, and he couldn't fault them for abandoning their posts, not when the sky behind them was still lit up from the flaming boat exploding. He hadn't seen or heard it, but he looked back now and could clearly see the large flames, and the official boats surrounding it, trying to put the fire out.
The mixture of worry and relief on his deputies' faces warmed his heart; he'd made a home here, and these people cared for him like one of their own.
In the next instant, they were pulled from the boat, to be ushered through the crowd of people.
Angel had sagged against him as her feet had touched the ground and she'd lost consciousness, so he'd scooped her up, and cradled her delicately in his arms.
A flash went off.
Conner looked around him, and saw a number of cell phones aimed their way. People had a tendency to record anything and everything these days.
He had no doubt his picture, shirtless, carrying the damsel in distress would be front and center in a number of posts online. The world loved heroes. But he wasn't the hero here. These women were.
The helicopter hovered overhead, but quickly descended, sending the air around the sizeable crowd at the waters edge into a flurry.
"Make way!" he called, rushing off the wooden platform, his deputies helping to make a path.
"Momma!" Jackson came barreling through the people, having shrugged off Sienna's hands. He reached Michelle, and she caught him, pulled him up and into her arms, wrapping him around her, safe. Robert closed his arms around both of them and walked them forward, watching Raymond escort Sienna and Yvonne up the hill towards the car. They would drive to the hospital.
As they approached the chopper with it's blades still spinning, Angel woke up. Her hands snaked around his neck and she turned her face into the exposed skin of his chest.
The door on the side of the red and white helicopter was already open, so the five of them were able to climb in immediately.
Robert jumped in ahead of him, taking the boy and then pulling Michelle in behind him, and strapped them into the seats on the far side, before helping lift Angel into the gurney fitted into the rear of the helicopter.
The interior had three seats backed against the pilot and one next to the gurney.
Once she was secure, he put a set of headphones over Angel's ears, and saw Robert do the same for Michelle and Jackson. Fitting a set over his own head, Conner had to steady himself against the open door frame of the rescue chopper as a second later they lurched upwards.
His father's voice came through the headset, the deafening sounds of the helicopter muffled, thanks to the specially designed headgear.
"What's my heading?"
"North-north-east. Urgent care hospital there, about ten minutes."
He gave the directives for Frank to radio ahead their status. As Conner settled himself in his seat, Angel reached back to him and he took her hand and held it with both of his.
"You looked like freaking Wonder Woman as you leapt from the dock," Robert kissed Michelle on the forehead, then his head turned to look out the open door as his woman held onto him around the seat restraints, one of her hands held in both of her son's. "Scared about ten years off my life, but damn. You are amazing, Mish."
He returned his eyes back to her. Michelle's soft laugh joined all the others over the headsets. Only Jackson remained quiet as he stared in wonder out of the open side of the helicopter, his awe and excitement colliding over this experience, leaving him silent for a change.
Conner squeezed Angel's hand tighter feeling a lot of the tension leaving his body now that they were on their way to get her help, and then she started crying. Her sniffles in his ears brought his eyes back down to her face. She was staring up at him, with pain in her eyes.
"What is it, why are you crying, love?"
"I'm pregnant, Conner. At least I was before all this," Conner's heart dropped. "I don't think such an early pregnancy could have survived that!" She cried harder, turning her face away from him.
"It's okay, Angel. We're going to go to the hospital, then we'll know for sure."
"I'm so sorry, Conner," she rolled her head on the limp pillow on the gurney and looked up at him with eyes full of tears and remorse. "For the awful things I said. I didn't mean them. I love you, Conner."
"I love you, Angel." His heart burst.
"I hated saying those things to you, but I had to do what he said. I had to. He had his aim on Jackson, and I couldn't risk it. I'm so sorry." She said again, her gaze shifting to Michelle's when her friend gasped.
"I'm glad that monster burned," Michelle eked out through gritted teeth, shaking her head before dropping her face into her hands, and succumbing to her own tears.
"The bad man's gone now. Gone forever?" Jackson looked at Robert, while his mother sniffled.
"Yeah, kid. The bad man is gone for good. He'll never hurt anyone again," Robert stretched an arm over and closed his hand over Jackson's shoulder briefly, before he rubbed it up Michelle's back, closing it around her neck and pulling her face into his chest. He closed both arms around her, and just held her as she let the flood out, his own eyes squeezing shut. Jackson smiled, and turned his face to look out the door again.
Conner watched the interaction in front of him with his own smile as Angel pressed her face against his hand, crumbling his happiness when she started crying again; her free hand pressed to her stomach. He rubbed his fingers over hers. There was nothing to say. She smiled up at him, weakly, taking the strength he offered.
She was safe, and she loved him. That's all that mattered.
They would make another baby. They would make a lot more babies. He wanted a house full! Full of family, noise, laughter, and most importantly, love. But first, he had to ask.
Her sniffling softened.
"Would you like me to ask you again?"
"What?" She turned her face up to look at him, her fingers clutching desperately at the material over her stomach. "Ask me what?"
"Right before you broke my heart, I asked you a question."
"Conner, I said I was sorry, I said I didn't mean any of those things. I love you."
"Angel, my love. Does this mean you'll marry me?" Conner wanted to smile as he asked it, but he still wasn't sure.
A smile wobbled on her lips before she nodded, and laughed as the joy he felt overtaking his features erupted in a holler and face-splitting grin. Not able to wait, he released his safety harness and moved above her, closing his lips over hers, and sealed it with a promise.