Chapter 3

Every guy at RangeMan carried a torch for Bomber. Lester didn't know one man who wasn't at least a little bit in love with her - himself maybe more than most. No one though had a sufficient death wish to act on his inclinations. Everyone knew Steph was Ranger's woman. Oddly enough, even during those intervals when she was with the cop it was understood that she was off limits. She was Ranger's woman even then and you didn't mess with Ranger. Not if you wanted to keep your favorite body parts intact.

But as Lester pulled the big SUV to the curb in front of Lula's building and cut the engine, he couldn't help thinking about what she had just said. 'I don't love him any more.' It was enough to fan the spark of hope in his heart and Steph's hand on his arm when he cracked the door to get out sent a shock through his system that went straight to his groin. Damn! He turned back to her.

She wasn't even looking at him. She was staring at an apartment on the second floor. "I need to go in alone," she was saying never taking her eyes off the lighted window. "Lula will freak right off if we both show up at her door."

Shit, shit, shit. Get a grip, Santos, he told himself. You know it's a snowball's chance in hell she doesn't still love him. Yeah. Problem was. This was hell and he was the snowball - melting fast. Who knew though maybe, in the future, hell was in for a chill. The best thing about the future, he thought, is that it comes only one day at a time. That's what he would do. He'd take it one day at a time.

*****

Bobby needed to move. By sheer menacing force of personality Ranger had overcome every obstacle to position the two of them in the hallway leading to the hospital's operating rooms. Bobby wanted to pace. But, Ranger didn't pace; Ranger did anti-pace. He translated nervous energy into complete stillness. Now he stood statue-like with one foot braced against the wall. Only his eyes moved sweeping the hallway when a door swung open or challenging any hospital personnel who might question the presence of the two men dressed in black.

A scrub nurse came out of one of the doors. She took a furtive glance at the two men and then gave them a wide berth. God, Bobby thought, we must look like the grim reaper and his henchman. He shifted his feet. Ranger threw him a look. Pacing was out of the question.

Bobby was antsy. Ranger knew. Too bad. The younger man would just have to deal. While Ranger's body was still, his thoughts were racing. Tonight had been entirely his fault.

The job should have been an easy one for RangeMan - a mid-level skip, no fancy work necessary, a plain vanilla capture and bingo, a bad guy back in the hooskow where he belonged. Another day at the office. But this guy had eluded them for days. Three times they'd gone to pick him up and their intel had been either faulty or too late. By the time they'd located him tonight Ranger knew he'd been angry. Very angry.

If he allowed himself to think about it, he'd been angry ever since the day he had hurt his Babe. His words wounded her far worse than any physical injury could have. He'd had to do it. He had to keep her safe and that meant away from him. It made him hate his life and the things he did a little more.

Tonight his team was there, but Ranger had done the takedown himself his anger and frustration coming out in his fists after he'd planted the skip's face in the concrete. The cuffs went on hard and the bastard had known this wasn't his mother tucking him in for the night. He'd been too busy beating the crap out of the skip to listen to the warning in Tank's voice. 'Rangeman,' Tank said, 'something's off.' Ranger ignored him. Ignored him long enough that Tank felt the need to cover his back and walk right into the bullet. The bullet that should have taken him.

Oh, yes. Tonight had been entirely his fault all right. And worse. All his men knew it.

TBC