The Boondock Saints: Angel of Death, Angel of Love
By: Raven in Red
"And so the Angel came down, and swiftly bestowed the blow of Death upon him. And from that moment on, she was the Angel of Death." After her parents' murder and a fateful St. Patty's Day introduction to the MacManus brothers, Grace Reilly receives a calling from God to be the Saints' guardian angel, and she takes her job quite seriously.
Chapter 10: Holy Bond, Heavenly Warning
Sitting in the simple wooden church pew, I took slow, deep breaths. Mom's red-beaded rosary was in my fingers while Daddy's hung around my neck. I leaned against the very edge, right beneath one of the beautiful stained-glass windows. One knee was folded against my chest while the other dangled loose.
"What do I do here, Lord?" I whispered to the heavens. "Is it wrong for me to do what I now do? I know you've spoken 'thou shalt not kill,' but the lives I've taken were those of some of the worst of evil men. I'm ashamed to say that I felt good when they dropped, but they were not innocent men. If I ever take an innocent life, accidental or otherwise, that will be the end of me. I live for the innocent, and I take the lives of the wicked.
"And now I ask… is it wrong to love Connor MacManus? I've known him only a short time, but I know what we feel. Something dances in my heart whenever I get a gaze at those beautiful eyes of his. He protects me, and he is proud of me. He lets me stand at his side and be the guardian angel I have been called to be. But he kills as well. He does the exact same thing I do. We are as one, following the same calling from the same God, so if there is a punishment, we will definitely both face it equally.
"And what of my mother? Why didn't she come home to me instead of running away? Why did she shoot at us? Where is she now? Is she now a criminal, too?"
I paused in my prayer to look across the church. To my surprise, I saw Connor and Murphy all the way on the other side, with their heads bent in prayer. Connor looked over at me and, for a brief second, started to get up, but I had such a look on my face then. It was a toss-up between despair, confused love, and sheer fucking anger. He clearly knew better than to get involved at that moment.
I clutched Mom's rosary so hard that it left little red welts in the delicate skin of my palms. This was a moment not for tears, but for questions, and I needed some answers.
I was a lost soul, clutching onto a Calling and trying to do the right thing.
Or was it really the right thing? For all I knew, I was probably going to burn in Hell for my deeds. After all, thou shalt not kill was one of the Ten Commandments that I held so near and dear to my heart… so why was I so blatantly ignoring one of them?
"…Grace?" The voice was beautiful, delicate, and cautious. I didn't have to look up to know that Connor now sat in the pew behind me. I didn't speak. "Can ya listen to me for a moment, sweetheart?" I nodded in response, and he continued. "We're getting into some really serious shit here, Grace. Every day, it gets worse. I didn't think we were going to last past that motherfucker… and your mother."
"I didn't think so either," I muttered softly.
"We're gambling with our lives here, Grace," Connor said. "And it hurts me to see you getting so deep into it."
"I understand," I said. "But we received the same Calling, so we need to be in this together, not just as a couple but also as a family."
"Aye," said Connor. "Just know that I love you through every bit of shit we face together."
"I love you, too, Connor," I whispered, turning my head to catch the beautiful smile on his face. Then, I took a deep breath and sighed. "You know, I used to come to Mass here every Sunday when I was younger."
"Used to?" Connor was curious.
I nodded. "I stopped coming soon after I turned seventeen. I thought God had abandoned me."
"God hasn't abandoned you," Connor assured me.
"I know that now," I said. Then, a memory flashed into my head.
I sat alone in the church, way in the back, crying my eyes out. I had just received news of Mom and Daddy getting into a car accident and landing in the IC unit of the hospital. I was seventeen.
I had gone home after school to find an empty house. When I was in high school, before they changed jobs, Mom and Daddy were always there when I came home from school. Mom would always give me a steaming cup of my favorite tea, and Daddy would always have some of my favorite music playing.
I knew something was wrong that day.
I had called the police to get answers, and they had told me what happened. Once I hung up, I ran straight to the church. I needed to cry in the comfort of the Lord's arms.
As I cried, I heard the church doors open behind me, and a man came in. I barely recognized this man as a regular churchgoer, but I had never formally met him. I stifled my cries so as not to distract him as he walked right up to the altar and knelt down in prayer. Was God sending this man into my presence for a reason? Did he need guidance the same way I did?
When he stood up, he placed a little kiss on the feet of the giant crucifix before turning and walking back down the aisle. His simple wooden rosary dangled from his neck. My own pearl one was clutched tightly in my right hand.
Much to my surprise, he stopped when he came to my row. When he knelt next to me, he removed his sunglasses to reveal the most beautiful pair of blue eyes I'd ever seen.
"The Holy Father is with you, sweetheart," he had whispered, taking the crucifix of my rosary and giving it a gentle kiss.
"And with you as well," I whispered back to him through my tears.
He quickly brushed my cheek with his hand before getting up and walking out. That would be my last day in this church for five years.
"I didn't meet you on St. Patrick's Day," I told Connor as I came out of my memory.
"Oh?" He clearly didn't understand, but was curious nonetheless.
"I met you five years ago, almost to the day," I said. "I was in here crying and you offered me comfort." Connor closed his eyes and thought for a moment. When he opened them again, it was clear that he, too, remembered that day.
"You're right," he said with a smile. "You were a trembling little soul, just looking for her way."
"That one little touch meant the world to me," I said.
"God has placed us in each other's lives, Grace," said Connor.
"I believe He has," I said. "And God has placed the love in my heart that I feel for you."
"No," he said gently. "You discovered that on your own, the same way I did for you."
I got up from the pew and walked around behind me to join Connor. As soon as I sat down beside him, I pulled him gently into my arms. At that moment, we didn't need a kiss to show our love. One simple embrace said more at that moment than a million kisses ever would.
As soon as I eased out of Connor's embrace, I saw Murphy standing near us. "Connor, do ya think I could have a word with her?"
"Sure thing, man," Connor said as he got up, kissed my forehead, and went well out of earshot to the front pews.
"What's up, Murph?" I inquired as my brother took his seat next to me.
"I just wanted to tell you a few things," he began.
"Sure," I said. "I'm all ears."
"Well, you obviously already know that my dear brother is in love with ya," Murphy said.
"Yes, of course," I said with a nod. "He told me two nights ago."
"I know it may seem like it happened too fast, but I also know he's certain," said Murphy. "It's one of the ways he and I are different. I've never put much stock on love, and I always end up miserable 'cause of it. Him, he'd be willin' to bet his life on the feelin' he holds for ya."
"I've never felt the way I feel for him," I admitted sadly. "I know it's dreadfully soon, and I really can't explain it any better, but I know what I feel. It's all new to me, but I know it's real."
"I understand," said Murphy. "Ya know, from the first moment I saw ya, I knew ya were gonna be a sister to me."
"Really?" My eyes brightened.
"Yeah," he said. "I didn't anticipate what ya would be to Connor, but I knew ya had that spunk that only comes from a baby sister. You're an impressive girl, and ya've got a fire in you that I've never seen before, especially in a girl."
Up ahead of us by the altar, I saw, to my surprise, a drunken Agent Smecker stumble into the confessional. "What the hell?" I stood up to investigate when I saw Rocco and the priest enter the booth as well, and I immediately felt my anger flare up.
"That tears it," I declared, tucking my rosary back into my shirt. "I'm sorry, Murphy, but I'm not gonna stand for that."
"Go with the light, little sis," Murphy said with a cute smirk as I took off down the aisle. I had drawn one of my six-shooters, and I marched like I was ready to take down the Devil himself. My eyes stung with a couple tears as I thought of what Rocco was probably willing to do to that poor priest.
"Sweetheart, let me take care of this." I heard Connor's gentle voice behind me. He took me by the arm and gently started to tug me away from the confessional.
"What the hell, Connor?" Why was he stopping me? "You don't think I can handle this?"
"Of course I do," he said immediately. "Just let me handle this one, please."
"Oh, fuck off!" I hissed angrily, ripping my arm from his grip and storming off.
I exited the church and sat down on the front steps. Who the hell was Connor MacManus to tell me what I could and couldn't do? My heart was burning with both love and anger, and I didn't know which one was stronger.
I knew it was just a quick little spat and we would both get over it and stop acting like children, so I decided just to forget about it for the moment.
"Grace?"
I half-expected the sudden voice to be Connor, coming to ask my forgiveness. What an idiot I was – I was so wrapped up in that ten-second fight that I failed to realize until several seconds later that the voice was female. By that point, the young woman had staggered over and was now right in front of me.
"El… Ellie?!" The name burst from my lips with surprise and shock.
My beloved Ellie, the only sister I knew, stood above me in the worst shape I had ever seen any human being in. Starting with her face: she had a black eye, a dried bloody nose, a severely bruised lip, and what looked like a broken cheekbone. Then to her arms and legs: all four were marred with a sickening manner of cuts, scrapes, and utterly disgusting bruises.
I simply stared at her for a while until the words finally came to my mouth. "Ellie, what the fuck happened to you?"
"Babe, I need your help," she begged, falling to her knees in front of me, her body racking with sobs. I gently placed my hands on her shoulders to steady her. My own body shook with barely-suppressed fear.
"What… happened?" I repeated, starving for answers.
"I… I've gotten into a lot of trouble lately," Ellie began, her sobs quieting and her tears drying.
"What kind of trouble?" I coaxed. I needed answers from my precious friend, and I despised having to wait.
"I couldn't handle med school, and I quit," Ellie said. "I didn't want to go back to the apartment and eventually have to face my parents, so I kinda just ran away." I was tempted to point out the stupidity of such a decision, but I bit my tongue and listened to the rest of her story. "I just hopped between like a gazillion different motels, each one skuzzier than the last. Sometimes I drank my ass off. Other times I just slept all day. I thought of you every day, babe. I prayed for your safety almost every minute I could."
"How did you get like this?" I asked, gesturing to her many, many wounds.
"I was walking home from a convenience store last night, and I was kidnapped," she said, letting out one single shaky sob as she mentally relived the memory.
"Babe, it's okay," I said, brushing her lovely straight red locks away from her face. "You can tell me."
"They put a bag over my head and dragged me into some old warehouse," said Ellie. "It reeked of drugs and stale piss. Six men took turns beating and raping me."
"Good God!" I shrieked, clapping my hands to my mouth. No one treats my Ellie like that and gets the fuck away with it. No one.
"Babe, I know exactly who these guys are and how to get to them," Ellie said.
"Did you call the police?" I asked, moving to sit next to her on the steps.
"Nope," Ellie said bluntly. "They're fucking Russian mob guys. They know how to get away with anything. We've gotta take them down ourselves."
"Fuck yeah, we do," I said with excitement.
"Can you do that for me, babe?" Ellie asked, her face brightening at the thought of becoming a vigilante like me.
"Fuck yeah, I can!" I declared with pride. "We can go over there right fucking now if you want to."
"Thank you so much, babe," Ellie gushed as we stood up and hugged for the first time in too many months. "You still mean the fucking world to me."
As we took off, arms linked, down the street and back towards her apartment, a thought came to my mind. Now, how the hell was I going to explain this to Connor? I knew he was going to be royally pissed, but I decided that this job was for Ellie and me. This was our moment – as best friends, sisters, and fellow angels. We were finally back in each other's lives, and this was the perfect spark to start the fire.
"Do you still know how to fire a gun?" I asked of Ellie when we reached her apartment. I had cleaned up before the boys and I left, so there was no trace of us being there.
"Yeah, of course," Ellie said as she plopped down on the couch. "Remember, babe, I was the one that taught you all those kickass moves when a match went bad." I smiled fondly as I remembered our college days, when she had been my arm wrestling partner. The two of us were inseparable – tough, unstoppable angels of the night. We fought together, and we shot together. Grace and Ellie - like the names of two notorious western outlaws.
The two of spent the morning preparing for the job. We started by taking long, hot showers and washing away any of the filth that had accumulated on Ellie's body during her captivity. We then suited up in red tank tops, our favorite blue jeans, and black combat boots to start. We added shoulder holsters for that lovely little badass touch and to provide a space for our weapons. Finally, Ellie brought out something truly amazing.
"I've saved these since the day we graduated," she explained as she pulled two black leather vests from a box behind the TV. I shed a tear of joy. Those vests had been practically fused to our skin, through every match and every night we stood through together. They were well-worn and slightly frayed from years of loving use. They were our trademark, a symbol of who we were.
"I thought these were gone," I said as I put mine on and fastened the cracked buttons.
"No way in hell," Ellie said as she brought a black eyeliner pencil to my lids. "Now, tell me more about this Irishman of yours." On the way back from the church, I had mentioned Connor and Murphy, with obvious and particular focus on the former.
"Now, that's an interesting story," I began, dozens of memories reeling through my head. "I met him on Saint Patty's Day at a pub down in the shithole that is now my beloved South Boston."
"Is he cute?" Ellie asked. She had taken a mirror and was now lining her own green eyes.
"He's fucking gorgeous," I said with a devilish smile. "He's my sexy, badass partner in crime."
"So, you've been going on those jobs with him?" Ellie asked.
"Every single one," I said proudly, running a tube of fierce red lipstick over my small mouth. "It's basically my new life."
"Well, I'm jealous," Ellie pouted. "That sounds so amazing."
"It came from a Holy Calling," I explained, passing her the lipstick tube. "Connor and Murphy took me under their wing and I've been at their side ever since."
"Well, he'll be so fucking proud of you once we're done today," Ellie said. "You can count on it."
For a final touch, I applied several layers of my best concealer to the bruises and cuts on Ellie's face. When I was done with her, it looked like the assault had never happened. When we did this shit, I wanted to make sure that her unbroken pretty face was the last thing those motherfuckers saw on this earth.