Thank you to the wonderful authors who inspired this story and gave me permission to use some of their ideas.

Thanks a million for all your wonderful reviews, I'm sorry if I didn't get a chance to thank you in person.

Merci beaucoup to Stayce, my wonderful editor who helps me more than she knows.

Chapter titles are taken from Bon Jovi's "Have a Nice Day!" and they aren't mine, just as JE's characters aren't. Sadly.


Chapter 4

Oh, if there is one thing I hang on to

When I'd finished the second and last beer and my third crying jag, I felt nauseous. But I couldn't stop thinking about Ranger. I took another sip of tequila, but it made me burp and gave me a horrible taste in my mouth. I was such a sorry excuse for a drinker! It didn't make me happy or oblivious, just sad and sick.

I threw the empties away and dragged my sorry ass into bed, which I should have done in the first place. Once I'd pulled the covers over my head, I could pretend I was safe. Alone, but safe. And the beer and tequila did succeed in making me sleepy, midday or not. If only I was able to fall asleep, I could escape. Because while I was awake, my mind kept showing me pictures of Ranger. Smiling Ranger, tired Ranger, Ranger naked, badass Ranger. Ranger kissing someone else. My imagination just wouldn't shut up!

I did fall asleep eventually, but instead of escaping, it got worse. In my dream, I saw Ranger in church, kneeling at the altar. There was a figure next to him, but I coulnd't see clearly, I only knew it was a woman. I was running down the aisle, trying to stop the wedding, only hands that came out of the ground kept grabbing at my feet, made me stumble and slowed me down so much that I didn't even get halfway to the altar by the time the priest asked the all important question.

I woke up screaming. I was covered in sweat and my stomach was trying to decide whether or not it wanted to throw up.
Fucking figures! I could deny the Earth was round if I wanted to, but Ranger had to follow me into my dreams and shove it into my face! And even worse, I'd slept for less than an hour. Would this day never end?

And now my thoughts were back. Who was this woman Ranger was marrying, and what did she have that I didn't? Was it Jeanne Ellen?? I hadn't seen or heard from her in years, but that didn't mean Ranger hadn't, right? Or what if it was an arranged marriage, something his parents had set up? I didn't know much about them, maybe they were really traditional and Ranger and this chick had been promised to each other at birth?

And there was always the possibility that it was all a big fat misunderstanding, that there was no engagement and no skank, that if I told Ranger what Connie'd told me he'd laugh one of his rare full-on laughs and pull my hair then tell me if he ever got married it would be to me.

I sighed and turned onto my back to get into my thinking position.

Whatever it was, I decided, I wasn't going to figure it out lying in bed with my phones turned off, I had to re-connect to the outside world.

I threw the covers back and stared at the ceiling. One thing was for sure, I promised myself, I'd never answer the fucking phone when it woke me up. Nothing good ever happened in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning!

A couple hours later, my beer and tequila buzz was gone and I was still hurt, frustrated and sad. So much for drinking or sleeping my problems away.

I decided to give the day another try, got out of bed and took another shower. I spent extra time on my hair and makeup, I didn't want to look like I felt. Thankfully, the hot water had taken care of my red-cried eyes, so I looked fairly normal. I took a closer look at myself in the mirror. Was Ranger's fiancée prettier than me? Thinner? Did she have straight hair that never looked scarecrow-y?

Then I looked myself in the eye. "Stop being pathetic," I told myself. "And stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

Then I was out of pep talk and stopped looking at myself.

After I'd dressed, I gave Rex some raisins for his breakfast later, reconnected the phone and took off for the bonds office. Maybe Connie would have some challenging skips for me; don't heroes in movies always bury themselves in work if they had too much trouble in their personal lives? I bet that worked just as well in real life!

I snorted, who was I kidding? I had to get out of the house before I drowned in self pity was all!

Connie jumped up from her chair when she saw me. "Steph, I didn't…"
"I don't want to talk about it," I said with a meaningful look, hoping she'd get the message. "You got any skips for me?"
She frowned, trying to decide if she should drop it. After a beat, she sighed and took some folders from her desk.

"I got Marvin Gorski, a drunk and disorderly and Penny Luke, a shoplifter. Both first timers, and pretty low bonds."
I snatched the folders out of her hand. "I'll take them."

"Okay," Connie said slowly, still looking like she waited for me to start my outburst. "Let me sign them over to you."

Oh right, I had to sign the agreement and all that. I knew that, of course. I'd just been focusing all my attention on appearing normal, there wasn't energy left to actually think.

Connie took the files back from me, filled out her part, and had me sign on the dotted line.

"You want Ernest Mayfield, too?" she asked. "Assault with a deadly weapon. On his wife."

"Definitely," I said and signed the agreement when Connie presented it. Maybe Ernest would put up a fight and I'd get to kick him where it hurt.

"Vinnie will be happy," Connie said.

"That makes one of us," I said as I stuffed the files into my shoulder bag and turned to go.

I knew Connie wanted to talk about it, give her the play-by-play of my earlier conversation with Ranger, but I couldn't do it. If I said his name out loud, I'd burst into tears, I just knew it.

If I focused on the skips, I might even stop thinking about him too, although I didn't have much hope there. As long as I didn't talk about him or, God forbid, ran into him, I should be able to keep up the normal façade though.

"Bond enforcement," I announced myself formally enough at Gorski's house.

He was a 75-year old little geezer who'd had one too many at his granddaughter's wedding and barfed in the taxi on his way home, then refused to pay the fare. He was honestly embarrassed he had forgotten his court date and promised to come with me if I didn't cuff him.

I didn't trust him but I knew about neighborhood gossip so I played along. And what do you know, he let me drive him to the cop shop to be booked. I called Connie from the station so he could be re-bonded.

I should have been happy it went so well, instead I was disappointed Marvin hadn't distracted me even a little.

When I left the police station, I saw a black SUV parked close to my car out in the lot. The windows were tinted dark so I couldn't tell if anyone was inside but I groaned inwardly just the same. It was parked almost next to my car.

Only one company drives big, new, shiny SUVs into the police parking lot: RangeMan. All other cars this size and value were driven by gang bangers and drug dealers.

I tried to ignore it as the driver's door opened and hurried to my car. No luck.

"Steph!"

It was Tank. He was definitely near the top of my list of people I really didn't want to talk to. Shit.

Well, it was too late now to pretend I hadn't heard him, I was still ten feet away from my car.

"Hi Tank," I said, sounding so normal I would have fooled myself. "Sorry, I gotta run, I have a skip to catch."

"This won't take long," Tank said and closed the distance between us.

He took off his dark sunglasses and looked down at me. ""Hal's never heard of the term 'Loose lips sink ships' apparently," he said.

I was so shocked he came right to the point I was speechless.

"I figured you'd have heard by now."

I just nodded numbly. Even if my tongue didn't feel like a piece of dough in my mouth, what was there to say?

Tank reached out and touched my arm briefly, but then just dropped it. "I just wanted you to know we all just learned about the engagement over the weekend. We woulda told you if, you know, if we'd found out earlier."

I nodded again and realized how much I'd hoped Tank would have said it was all just one big fat misunderstanding, a practical joke, anything but the truth.

"You okay?" he asked.

Either my mask wasn't fooling him or I wasn't as good as pretending as I'd thought.

I still couldn't speak because I felt tears prick my eyes again and I was afraid they'd start flowing if I opened my mouth. So I nodded again like an idiot.

I would have gotten away clear if I'd run to my car at that moment, but Tank chose to not let it lie; he pulled me into his arms and hugged me. To say it was the last thing I expected is an understatement, I was completely shocked. And too surprised to keep up my pretense, wrapped in a bear hug by this bear of a man, I couldn't hold it in any longer; I started sobbing like a little girl. I knew I'd be embarrassed about it later, but I couldn't help myself.

Tank wasn't embarrassed. He turned me so his back was to the cop shop and no one could see me and stroked my back soothingly. For the first time I understood what Lula saw in him, I wouldn't have guessed he had such a sensitive side. It was the safest and most comforted I'd felt all day.

"It's gonna be okay," Tank murmured, hugging me again. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head against his chest, talking was the last thing I wanted to do, right after crying. I was so sick of crying, yet here I was, bawling my eyes out. Again.

I don't know how he did it, but somehow Tank nudged me towards his SUV and got the door open, then he gently pushed me inside so I could sit down. He got a tissue from somewhere and held it out to me.

"Sorry," I mumbled before I blew my nose.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"No," I admitted. "But it helped."

"For what it's worth, it totally took me off guard too, I never expected Ranger to…you know…"

"Yeah Tank. I do know." I sighed and tried to hold fresh tears back. "Thanks Tank."

TBC


A/N: So what do you think, could it really be true? Would Ranger do that to Steph?