Mercy's Angels Box Set Read Online Free PDF

Afghanistan eight months ago and after many weeks of deep contemplation, I decided that this return would be permanent. At twenty-seven years of age I had seen enough death and destruction to last a life time and to be honest, could easily have done without the misery and despair that came with the shelter. But this was Mercy’s life, her dream and as she often said, “from the pits of despair they shall rise stronger.” Nothing gave me more satisfaction than seeing a defeated woman regain her strength and pride. And many of the women who came to Mercy’s Shelter did. When they arrived they were at their lowest, beaten, starved and desperate. Fortunately, thanks to the hard work of Mercy, many of these women left with renewed spirits, hope and a strength they had long forgotten.  Of course there were some that didn’t recover, no matter how much time and effort you put in, some returned to the very prick that sent them running in the first place. And then there were the few, when at their very lowest and most vulnerable, they would end their misery. I shivered at the memory of the tiny teenager I had found slumped in a pool of blood in the bathroom six months ago. Sure, I had seen death before, I had meted it out. But somehow this was different. I had tried to reach out to Sarah but she was having difficulty trusting me. Perhaps I didn’t try hard enough, I had surely failed her. She was innocent, so young. She should have been at home with her mom and dad arguing about the clothes she wore and the music she listened too. Not slumming it on the streets and selling her body to buy food. I had to stop thinking of her, for the thoughts led me back to nightmares and cold sweats. Nightmares that had once forced me to seek help for post-traumatic stress with the shelters only therapist Dave. 
                  “Damn, smells good in here Mary. Anything I can do to help?” A large well rounded woman with flushed cheeks and a toothless grin glanced over her shoulder at me.
                  “You get out of my kitchen boy. Last time you tried to help the oven caught on fire.” I laughed loudly. I liked Mary. She told it how it was, I couldn’t cook for shit.
                  “Now that wasn’t my fault, I was so distracted with your shepherd’s pie I completely forgot about desert, so I think it’s safe to say that it was your fault.”
                  Mary laughed. “Here, taste this.” She handed me a warm muffin right from the oven. My eyes rolled back in my head as the chocolate flavor burst and flooded my mouth. I let out a highly inappropriate yet appreciative groan.
                  “Have you tried one of these yet?” I suddenly asked Nancy who still stood anxiously by the door. She barely met my eyes and shook her head. “Mary, give the lady a muffin while they’re still warm.” I didn’t spare her another glance, I didn’t want to make her feel any more anxious as I left the kitchen. I felt the woman’s eyes on me as I walked away though. She was curious, wondering if I could be trusted, who I was, why I was here. If she was intending on staying a while she would realize she had nothing to fear. 
                  “Is it a full house tonight?” I heard Mary call out.             
                  “Yep. No spare beds tonight.” I made my way down the corridor and into the large open plan room which served as a rec room, dining room and bedroom. The beds were set up on the farthest side of the warehouse, thirteen to be exact, with the occasional divider to help afford the women some measure of privacy. The bathrooms were close by and handy. The other side of the warehouse was furnished with big old comfy lounge chairs and a couple of big timber tables. Nothing matched, but it was all sturdy and clean. Mercy’s shelter was by no means large, but it was tidy, warm, comfortable and more importantly,