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“Why don’t you get the door, Angel?”
“What?” she asks, raising her sleepy head.
Another knock again, softer.
Obediently, she slips between the sheets, pushing herself to the floor and shuffling sleepily to the room door as she rubs her eyes. She pulls the door open as far as the chain will let her, only about four inches.
“It’s Brother Owen!” she exclaims, suddenly awake.
Pushing myself onto my elbows, I watch her as she pulls on the door again, then realizes she has to close it first if she is going to unlatch the chain. When she finally opens the door completely, she jumps into his arms. He catches her in a swift and solid embrace, entering the room and kicking the door closed with his heel. For a few seconds he holds her suspended six inches off the ground, nuzzling her hair with his eyes closed.
I guess she was right. He does need to be here.
“How did you know? How did you find us?”
Owen squints at me in the darkness. “You didn't tell her?”
I just shrug. “I thought the surprise would be more fun,” I smirk.
“He called me, little Angel. On the telephone,” Owen explains. I'm a little peeved that he gave away my secret, but I'm pretty happy to see him too.
Flicking on the light next to the bed, I yawn and push myself up all the way to sitting. That was maybe an hour of sleep, but it was fantastic. I slept without any of the bad dreams that I usually have. My muscles feel good. Heavy. I remember waking up halfway a couple of times, feeling Angel’s head on my chest and sinking right back into pleasant dreams.
“So are we good?”
“We’re good,” he nods, pushing his boots off one at a time.
He arranges them neatly next to the dresser, still holding Angel across his body. He comes around the side of the bed and deposits her gently in the middle, then stretches out, full-length on the opposite side. He groans like he's being crushed by a weight. I know exactly how that feels.
Angel reaches out, lifting his hand and closing hers within it. He automatically curls his fingers over the back of her wrist, almost completely surrounding her small bones. It's a sweet gesture.
“So what did you tell her? Is Mary going to be able to do it? Will she take care of it?”
“Actually… there has been a change of plans.”
“Owen, not again! Do you think you can just do what I tell you —”
“— it's gotta be Melissa, Silas. It had to be her.”
“Mama?” Angel asks, a note of concern in her voice. He bounces her hand in his meaty paw.
“Don't worry about it, Angel,” he reassures her. “It's all right. Your mom is everybody's Mother Melissa now.”
“What does that mean?”
“She's the new leader of Kingdom Come. We gave it to her. It's hers now.”
“Oh, I bet she will love that!” Angel scoffs. We all chuckle at that, knowing just how true it is.
“What made you give it to her?” I ask, careful to not sound too judgmental. As I’m finally realizing, Owen typically has very good reasons for his decisions.
“Well, I left the bar and headed home, thinking I would just grab whatever I could to get out of there, and I realized pretty quickly that Dustin’s guys were going to be right on my tail. It's not like the compound location was some kind of secret or anything. And I knew if they got me, I wasn’t going to be getting out. But if I left the compound undefended… I think you know what Dustin would do with Kingdom Come.”
“Yeah, I see what you’re saying,” I concede, slightly embarrassed that I didn’t anticipate that scenario. All I could think about was Angel.
“So I took a little chance.”
“What kind a chance?” I ask him.
