Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

“Hi mom,” I said choking back tears.

“Hey, honey,” she answered in a weak voice. “Are you okay?” She asked, obviously worried about my history in this area.

“I’m fine, just worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me; I’m going to be fine,” she said in a near whisper, dropping off again.

I spent several hours with her as she drifted in and out of sleep. When the nurse came in to give her pain meds, she suggested I take a break, that my mom would most likely sleep through the night. I thanked her and headed back to Mark’s room.

I knew it was probably against hospital policy to stay overnight. The announcement ending visiting hours had sounded a few minutes ago, but I didn’t let that deter me. I walked purposefully past the nurse’s station and gave a sigh of relief when I saw that the station was empty.

I closed the door to his room softly behind me and headed to the chair beside his bed. I pushed it as close as I could to the bed and lowered the railing of the bed, so I could hold his hand while he slept.

As I watched him sleep, I knew that I would never allow this to happen again. Together we would become stronger. We would never allow ourselves to be the victims again.

Mark opened his eyes a few hours later and saw me watching him.

“You should sleep,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

Mark used his hand and pressed my head on his heart where I longed to be. I could hear his thoughts as plainly as mine and smiled as I felt his heart beat against my ear. I would never grow tired of listening to his heart. Rightfully, it was my heart also, since neither of us could live without the other. We weren’t some aliens or scientific project, we were meant to be.

o;Where did it happen?” He asked as he pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

I plunged into the story that I concocted. That we were walking on the beach when two masked men jumped us and how they grew angry when they discovered I had no purse. They knocked me down and when Mark tried to protect me they shot him.

“They ran away after they shot Mark. I think they thought he was dead,” I said in a shaky voice.

“You were very lucky,” the younger officer told us as they got up to leave the room.

“One more question?” The older officer said just before they reached the door. “Where did you get the van?”

I felt a moment of panic; I had not thought that far ahead. Suddenly the answer flashed through my head as Mark sent his thoughts to me.

“It was on the road when I helped Mark up off the beach. I know I stole it, but the keys were in the ignition and I felt I had no choice. You can tell the owner I’m sorry,” I added knowing they would never find the owner. I knew for a fact that all our captors had vanished.

The cops seemed satisfied and left the room after promising to try to catch the men who shot Mark.

I looked at Mark who returned my grim smile. We knew that the true perpetrators would not be caught; we would have to find them ourselves.

Another knock sounded on the door.

The person at the door knocked again slightly louder.

“Come in,” I called.

Sam stepped into the room followed by Shawn and another couple.

I knew who they were instantly. Lynn and Robert had found us.

Sam took over with introductions.

“Krista, Mark, this is Lynn and Robert,” Sam said pointing to the couple next to Shawn.

Lynn was taller than me, probably about 5’10.” She had dark brown eyes and brown hair that was cropped off in a cute haircut that I would have loved to try, but lacked the guts. She was dressed in jeans that had tears throughout them. They looked like the jeans girls spent hundreds of dollars on, but I could tell the tears were genuine, they were just worn. She wore a black shirt advertising a band I had never heard of. She was quiet and pretty and even though she had more piercings in her ears than most girls I knew, she didn’t seem over the top Goth, but more like a person saying, This is my style if you don’t like it too bad.

Her significant other though was a complete contradiction to her style. His light blonde hair was parted and combed nicely to the side. He had the prettiest shade of green-blue eyes I had ever seen on a guy. He wore chinos that looked like they had been pressed with a half of can of starch. He had a casual polo shirt on, but even that showed signs of being ironed using the other half of the can of starch. He looked like one of the models on the cover of GQ, the only thing missing was a sweater slung over his shoulder.