JE created all the characters below. I'm just letting them finally do the kinds of things they want to do.
Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. I don't think people understand how much of what they read below is because of you. We'll let them continue on in ignorance, but just between the two of us, I know and I appreciate it.
Chapter 2 – Trust Freely Given
In the time I'd been gone at Stephanie's apartment, four alarms had sounded, and we'd gotten leads on the three outstanding high dollar skips. It had been such a hectic afternoon, no one asked about Stephanie's call for help, which meant protecting her secret had been easy.
It wasn't until a call from Al came on my cell phone that anyone was reminded of the incident. Obviously, he needed to know if he was repairing her car or hauling it to the junkyard. Al was advocating for putting the scrap of metal out of its misery, a suggestion I wholeheartedly agreed with, but I was smart enough to know better than to make that decision on her behalf. Technically, the car only needed a new gas line, which would be cheaper than buying a whole new car, so I had a feeling which option she would go with.
Lester overheard me talking to Al since our cubicles were side by side, and by the time I hung up the phone, he was standing there, leaning on my side wall with his arms crossed over his chest, letting me know he wasn't going anywhere right away.
"Can I help you?" I asked, hoping whatever had lit an interest in him could be deflected quickly.
"What happened yesterday with Beautiful?" he asked, using one of her many names around the building. It fit her – the woman was stunning when she wanted to be – but I never thought it really did her justice. She wasn't somebody that would ever be picked out of a lineup as a model, and her face wasn't exactly made in the classic American beauty style. She was one of those people that as you got to know them, you found them more and more attractive as the days progressed. I guess she grew on you, but I hated that expression because it made me think of mold or fungus, which didn't seem to relate to Stephanie at all.
Realizing he was still waiting on an answer, I shrugged, trying to minimize the importance of her call for help. "Piece of shit finally went to its great reward," I told him as casually as I could manage.
"She okay?" he asked, but since he was letting the car portion drop, I figured it would be easy to keep him off the trail that anything more had happened.
I nodded. "Yeah, she's good," I assured him, obviously selling it because he stood back up straight and walked away.
My ability to keep secrets was the trait that had probably kept me alive this long. I knew how to let information go in one ear and out the other, and I knew how to keep myself from blurting out whatever I was thinking. I believed it was something I was just born with, but years of practice had solidified my skills so that I never doubted them. Well, I'd never doubted them before, but for some unknown reason, when Lester began to walk away, my mouth opened without my permission and I said, "I think she and Nick are over."
Les turned around with a huge smile on his face. "Really, like really done, or like the old shit with the cop done?"
His sudden joy at her break up was rubbing me the wrong way. As much as we all wanted her out of the firefighter's life, it was wrong to be happy over something that was undoubtedly making her upset. "Totally over. When she told me yesterday, she looked mad and stubborn all at once, so I don't see him talking his way back into her good graces."
"Good," Lester announced. "Then I can stop planning operation: love burn out since it seems to have happened on its own." He got lost in his thoughts for a minute before asking, "I wonder what happened?"
I'd been kicking my own ass for saying anything at all. That had never happened to me before. But I seemed to be back in control of my mouth again, so I picked my words carefully before shrugging and suggesting, "Rebounds never last. You jump in quick, but as soon as you realize it, you jump back out."
"True," Les agreed, not that I thought he had a clue what I was talking about. As far as I knew, he hadn't had a steady woman since elementary school. His romantic life consisted of years' worth of one night stands all strung together, but I wasn't going to argue with him about it while he seemed to be accepting everything I'd told him.
After he walked away, I picked up the phone and called Stephanie's home phone. When her answering machine picked up, I hung up and dialed her cell phone instead. Not getting an answer there either, I disconnected the call and wondered what to do. It was well after lunch, so even by her standards, it was late enough to be awake. Finally, I decided this wasn't something I was likely to be able to push out of my mind, so I stood up and made my way down to the garage. I'd swing by her apartment and check on her. Maybe she was just screening her calls to avoid her family. If she didn't answer the door when I knocked, then I'd call again and leave a message.
It didn't take long to get across town to her complex, and I took the stairs two at a time, smiling at the thought that it was usually only under duress that she would take a flight of stairs instead of an elevator.
When I got to her floor, I felt that sensation on the back of my neck that something was off. The hall was deserted, but I'd learned years ago to never ignore that feeling, so I drew my gun and slowly made my way to her door.
There was nothing to indicate a problem in the hallway, but I still let my eyes scan for a hidden threat while I lifted my hand to knock on her door. When my knuckles made contact with the wood, the door swung open. Fuck! I know we'd all wished at some point or another that she'd leave this pathetic apartment for something more secure, but even on her worst day, I knew Stephanie would never leave the door open for anyone to walk in. The locks might not keep most people out, but she never forgot to use them.
I rushed in and pressed my lips together to stop the string of curses from leaving my mouth. Her den had been trashed. Stephanie wasn't a clean freak by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd never knock over lamps and leave broken glass on the kitchen floor.
Just as I was about to call for backup, I heard a sound coming from her bedroom. Even though I knew I was as close to helpless around a crying woman as a man could be, I still found my feet pulling me in the direction of the sobbing sounds. I used my finger tips to open her bedroom door and holstered my gun when I realized she was alone.
Her bedroom didn't seem to be ransacked like her living room had been, which confused me. "Stephanie." I said her name softly, not wanting to scare her, but needing to let her know I was there.
She flinched before lifting her head and looking at me. Despite being an expert at hiding my true thoughts and feeling from people, there was nothing I could do to stop my mouth from opening and my lungs from drawing a huge gulp of air. She looked like shit. Part of it was because her hair was completely untamed and giving her a crazy vibe, and part of it was because her nose was red to match her eyes from the amount of time she'd obviously spent crying. But most of it was because of the busted lip and black eye that I knew for a fact wasn't there when I left yesterday. She was laying on her stomach on the bed, as though she'd fallen on the mattress sideways and didn't have the energy to move herself to the right position to rest her head on her pillow.
Not sure what to do, I moved toward her slowly and even lifted my palms a bit to show her I wasn't a threat.
When my legs were touching the mattress, she looked at me again and explained, "Nick came back last night."
There was no class to teach you how to handle a woman who was hanging on by a thread, so I did what I remembered a nanny of mine doing when I was young and scared. I sat beside her and put a hand flat on her back, and then I began to move it up and down slowly. My touch was too firm to tickle, but light enough to hopefully soothe and not cause her discomfort. I made shushing noises when she let out a new string of cries and just waited until she seemed to be done.
"I don't know what to do," she finally confessed once it seemed she was all cried out.
"Other than your face, what else did he get?" I asked, trying to keep my anger out of my voice.
"The same places he had before, but this time, he was a little more forceful," she offered before lifting her shirt up as she had yesterday and showing me a side that ranged in color from dark purple to red and yellow.
"Stephanie, you have to let a doctor look at that," I warned her, hoping she wouldn't fight me on it.
"I can't go to the hospital, and I can't get RangeMan involved," she answered.
"What?" The last part totally confused me. I understood her reluctance to go to St. Francis. Despite privacy laws, I knew the grapevine of the 'Burg didn't honor federal statues when it came to gossip about one of their own. "Why can't we call Bobby?"
"He…H-He's part of RangeMan," she said, not really giving me anything to work with.
"So am I," I reminded her.
"But he doesn't seem to know that," she replied, letting me know my ability to blend into a crowd was obviously paying off if the jackass didn't recognize my uniform as being the same as Bobby's. "Nick said if I said a word to the guys, he had ways of making a building full of sleeping people go boom. He's a fireman. He knows how to start a fire that can't be traced, and I can't let him hurt the guys and ruin everything Ranger's worked for. I just can't. You can't call Bobby!" By the end of her explanation, her voice was stronger and shriller. She was only another sentence or two from becoming completely hysterical.
"You know we can't let him get away with this, right?" It seemed strange to me that she thought a single guy was capable of bringing down the men she'd gotten to know over the last few years. Surely she had more faith in us than that.
"I don't know what to think," she replied. "Something about him isn't right, and I remember Tank saying crazy people were hard to catch because they were unpredictable and didn't look at the consequences of their actions in the same way the rest of us did."
I struggled to think of Tank using those words, even though I had no reason to doubt what she was saying. Maybe it was just that I couldn't picture him saying that many words all at once.
"Did you consider that he was saying that to explain why you seem to struggle to pick up some of your skips?" I didn't want to upset her more, but I needed her to see his words for what they were.
She was confused, so I knew I had to say more. "It's a mistake to think the lower level bonds are easier to pick up because of the less violent crime they committed. Often, they are the ones who are simply nuts, which makes then unpredictable and hard to secure. He was letting you know that none of us think it's strange that you sometimes end up standing over a giant fire that used to be your car, or occasionally, you're covered in unidentifiable substances. It's because the people you are picking up aren't always stable."
"Oh," she replied, as though she'd never thought of Tank's words as being spoken for the purpose of making her feel better. Then she seemed to remember why we were having the conversation in the first place. "But I don't think Nick is stable right now, either."
"I agree." My hand was still moving on her back as I spoke. "The fact that he threatened us is proof of that. But most of us have experience taking down men much more dangerous than a punk in Trenton who has jumped into the deep end of crazy. We can handle getting him."
"But I'd have to press changes to make him go to jail, and then everyone will know what he did," she said, the tears appearing in her eyes once more.
"No, you don't," I disagreed. "You definitely don't have to press charges. You just need to let me make a couple of calls, and Nick will be gone by tomorrow."
"Gone where?" she naively asked.
For some reason, the lie that my mind came up with got stuck in my throat, and I sat there mutely instead.
She must have connected the dots because she put her hand over her mouth and shook her head no. "You can't kill him. Someone would find out about it, and it would get traced back to RangeMan. You can't go after him."
"There's no way it would get traced back to us," I promised, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. Finally, I realized she wasn't ready for this conversation, so I tried to change the subject. "What would you like us to do?"
"Just forget about it, don't tell the guys and they won't suspect a thing, and let this blow over. When Nick realizes I'm not ratting him out, then he'll leave me alone," she stated, as though there was a chance in hell I'd agree to such a ridiculous plan.
Everything I came up with as a response to her misguided plan died in my throat because I didn't want to piss her off by making it seem like I was picking on her ideas. Finally, I said, "We need to get you some medical attention." Her shirt was still up on the side, and the bruises were getting darker, just in the few minutes I'd been here. I may not have been to medical school, but even I knew that wasn't a good sign.
"No hospitals," she repeated, "And no Bobby."
I tried to come up with an option that would take care of her while still respecting her wishes. My mind could only come up with one solution, and I hated it. I had a feeling she'd accept it, but it would involve me in a whole different level, and it would allow her to know something about me that could be used against me down the road. I was debating the pros and cons of opening up a piece of my real self to the woman in front of me when she hissed and moved her hand to her side, as though a stabbing pain had just hit there. I might be a lot of things, but I wasn't heartless. She needed help, and if my suspicions about her injuries were right, every minute counted. She'd proven herself to be trustworthy with Ranger's secrets, so I had no choice but to trust that she would honor mine, as well.
I picked up my phone and held it for a minute, reminding myself this was the right thing to do.
"Who are you calling?" She was definitely panicked, and I knew an increased heart rate was a bad idea if she had internal bleeding.
"I'm calling my brother," I replied, pulling up his number from my contacts listing. "He's a private doctor and specializes in treating people under unusual circumstances without breaking a patient's confidence."
She shut her eyes when I finished speaking, and I knew the pain was getting to her. Then she spoke in a quieter voice. "That's an unusual specialty. How does he fit it all on a business card?"
Without thinking about it, I laughed. I couldn't remember the last time somebody had made me spontaneously laugh, but she'd managed it with a snide comment under less-than-happy circumstances. As my brother's phone began to ring, I relaxed. I'd never used my family to get me out of a bind before, despite knowing they'd definitely be there for me if I ever asked. While my pride kept me from ever calling them for myself, I wasn't exactly opposed to using their support to protect Stephanie. She'd gone out of her way many times to take care of us, and now that I had the chance to return the favor, I couldn't turn my back on her just because it required me to step outside of my comfort zone.
Before I could think about it anymore, I heard my brother's gruff greeting. "What?"
"Shit, man. I go months without calling, and that's how you answer the phone?" I didn't want to let too much of myself out, but this was my older brother, and he would know if I was holding back and would get suspicious.
"Well, if it isn't the prodigal son," he teased. "What's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong?" I threw out there, even though we both knew the fact that I'd called him instead of the other way around was a damn big clue.
"Spill it. What do you need?" he pushed.
There were lots of definitions for family, and while we had the whole genetic relationship, shared history, and nuclear relatives that would satisfy most dictionaries, the way he was basically saying, whatever I needed, he would do, was how I defined family. No questions asked, he had my back.
I gave him everything I thought Stephanie would be comfortable with me sharing. "I'm with somebody who's been worked over pretty good. I think there's some internal bleeding, maybe a few ribs in need of attention, but this needs to be kept under wraps for right now."
He made a sound that I recognized as his clinical voice of consideration. "Can you get him to me?"
"She's in a lot of pain. I don't know about transport," I explained.
"She?" he practically yelled. "A woman got worked over?"
Obviously, my father had instilled the same lessons into my brother as he had me about how to treat a lady. "Yeah. Can you come here?"
He sucked in a breath before answering. "I could, but if there's internal bleeding, we're talking surgery. You're just going to have to move her anyway. It would be better if you brought her to my office."
"Which one?" I asked, knowing he had a public office in the building next to the hospital, but he had one equally well equipped in the basement of his house at my family's compound.
"Nobody can know?" he repeated my initial words back to me.
"Not now, at least," I replied, knowing that while I wasn't going to broadcast her secret yet, there was no way Nick was going to walk away from this, either. If she didn't want RangeMan involved, that was just fine. I had plenty of contacts that could handle a job like this, and she would be none the wiser.
"Drive fast, and I'll meet you at the house," he instructed, getting me back to my task at hand.
We hung up, and I brushed the hair back from Stephanie's face. "I'm going to take you to my brother's house. He has a full scale office there and can treat your injuries privately so that no one else has to know." Once she nodded, I warned her, "I have to get you to the truck, and then I'm going to drive as fast as I can, but it's going to hurt you, so I need you to trust that I'm being as gentle as possible and that when we get to my brother, he'll take care of you."
"Okay," she agreed, as though she had all the trust in the world in me.
For a brief second, I sat back as the reality that she trusted me completely with her life and her secret sunk in and humbled me. The downside of making myself forgettable and not giving people anything familiar with which to associate with me meant that I hadn't had this kind of blind faith given to me before, and I was floored.
Before I got too far down that rabbit hole, she let out a low moan, and I realized she was trying to get up. I could see the effort to move was making her pain worse, so once she got herself turned around and sitting up, I stood and put my arms around her, picking her up and cradling her against my chest. She shut her eyes, and I knew she was trying to keep it together even though she was in a world of hurt. With each step I took, I made a vow to see to it that Nick paid for every single injury on her body.
It took forty-five minutes to get to my family's compound. I figured it was a good thing she was in so much pain, because she completely missed the guard tower, front gate, second gate, thumbprint scanner, and the brief glimpse at the main house with all its huge splendor on display. My brother's house was east of the main house, and while still huge by 'Burg standards, it was nothing like the place my parents occupied.
When I stopped the truck, two of my brother's men came out from the house and stopped beside me. I held up a hand to stop them and announced, "I've got her. Nobody but me takes her anywhere."
I felt Stephanie's hand on my wrist and bent down to look at her.
"It's okay. I think they were just trying to help." She was right, of course, but now that I had her here, around my family, I suddenly felt the overwhelming need to protect her from what she might see or hear. It was the only way to get her care, but I was suddenly face to face with the reality that this could go to hell a thousand different ways.
Lifting her gently, I carried her through the front door of the house in front of us and to the elevator that was open. We moved silently to the basement, where I knew his medical suite was all set up. When the doors opened, my brother stepped forward, wearing scrubs like I'd seen him so often, basically serving as a costume to make it seem like this was a perfectly normal medical office, when I knew it was anything but.
My brother was an expert at treating knife wounds, gun shots wounds, and broken bones – basically, anything that could happen to a person when they were fighting for their life, my brother had fixed it. I knew he had the skills, but I found myself wondering if it was right to let him treat Stephanie. Most of RangeMan would kick my ass if they ever found out about this. Of course, none of them knew who I really was – or more importantly, who my family was – so they'd have no idea what this really meant. I was exposing her to my family, and once they got a look at her, they were going to expect some serious explanations from me. There was probably no way I could keep her from finding out who I really was. My only wish now was that she might allow me to explain why I guarded this part of myself from the guys and hope she didn't judge me based solely on who I was related to.
"Vincent," I said as a greeting to my big brother.
He nodded at me and replied, "Anthony."
To the rest of the world we were Vince and Tony, but inside this compound, we were always called by our full name. Maybe that was why I only referred to the woman in my arms as Steph when I was thinking about her, but when Vincent asked who his patient was, I answered, "Stephanie."
His face went from casual to serious in a split second when he truly looked at the woman I was carrying. "Get her to the table," he commanded, transforming into a man who could have undoubtedly been a world class trauma physician, but instead stayed close to home to take care of anyone in the family or staff that needed him.
I laid her down on the small bed, and my brother began flipping on lights and rolling around equipment I didn't recognize. "You can wait upstairs," he suggested. "This is going to take a while."
"Fuck that," I disagreed. "I'm not leaving her side as long as she's here."
Vincent stopped long enough to look at me and then nodded. "Okay, then go scrub up, because if you're going to be in my space, you're going to get put to work."
Glad to be of some use, I quickly complied and returned holding my hands up like doctors on television always did. My brother saw what I was doing and laughed. "Relax, nurse. You're going to sit at her head and keep her calm. I need her awake as long as possible, and it's your job to talk to her to keep her with us."
Shit... As much as I hated blood, I would almost have rather him assigned me a task like wielding a scalpel than talking. Not only was I at a loss about what to say to Stephanie, but I had my brother listening in on every word, which didn't exactly inspire me to be Mr. Verbose.
"Talk, man, or I'm calling our cousin Dino to do it," Vincent threatened me.
Knowing Dino was a notorious ladies man, I scooted the stool closer to her and began to run my fingers through the tangles in her hair. It had been a ploy to get me talking, and it worked. Not just because I wasn't about to let the man-whore anywhere near Stephanie, but because it gave me something to talk about. I may not like talking about myself, but Dino was an "all out there" kind of person, so I decided to tell her all about the cousin I was saving her from having to meet. While I droned on, telling her all the stories of us from my childhood that I could talk about without severe editing, my brother worked, softly cursing from time to time.
Finally, he went over to a cabinet and unlocked it. I knew it was where he kept his serious drugs stored. Filling two syringes with a mystery medication, he came over and injected them both into her upper arm. After tossing both the used needles in the biohazard container, he said, "Tell her good night because she'll be out in a minute."
"Remember what I said," I reminded her, knowing the drugs would hit her system quickly. "You can relax because I'm not leaving your side, and nobody is going to hurt you now."
She made a sound that seemed pleased with what I'd said, and then as her eyes fluttered shut once more, she mumbled, "I trust you."
