Disclaimer: Thank you to Janet Evanovich for creating wonderful characters and letting us play. Not mine.

A/N: You guys are amazing. I'm in awe at your response to this story. Yesterday was monumental. A record number of readers viewed the last chapter, and there are now more than 200 reviews! In celebration, here is Ranger's POV to Steph's story to hold you over this weekend. Thank you for all of your support and encouragement!

Thanks are owed again to misty23y for her continued work as my beta. Enjoy!

Chapter 14

Date/Time Stamp: Saturday, 15SEP18 2130-2230

Ranger POV

I'm sitting with my Babe on the porch, waiting for her to begin. I'm honored and relieved she is going to talk to me. I am bracing myself to listen to whatever she needs to tell me. I hesitate when she asks me not to do anything. As I don't know what Steph is going to tell me, there is a chance the information she gives me will require action. I push back and tell her she would be a part of any course of action. I'm relieved she accepts my modified terms. I know my reaction is going to be critical. I must internalize and process the information, using my military training to fall on reason, not emotion; to think before I act. The last thing I want is to scare her carelessly.

I imperceptibly glance over at her. Her posture is rigid, and I can tell she is trying to channel her blank face. When she begins, her voice is steady and firm. While I'm concerned at how depressed Steph sounds, I'm impressed at her goal setting and focus. It's obvious she's given her words a great deal of thought. I resolve to be a part of her solution.

She pauses, and when she continues, her voice is flat. As she tells me about being molested at six, I am equally shocked by both Morelli's actions and how her family victimized her. I am outraged that a parent wouldn't do everything they could to love and protect their child.

I notice Steph's voice has become bitter and stringent when she asks me about the Tasty Pastry incident. I know it's where she lost her virginity to Morelli and what lead to her breaking his leg with Big Blue, but I'm afraid if I say yes, she will self-edit information that could be critical to my understanding. Not wanting to interject my words into her story, I shake my head no.

Nothing could have prepared me for the pain of her next confession. Morelli raped her. The fucking bastard. I feel sick at the role I played in enabling their relationship. I'm focusing on controlling my breathing, forcing my anger deep inside. I see my Babe tremble as her relaying her story begins to take its toll. I desperately want to wrap my arms around her, but I can see she is resolved to do this on her own.

Dios. My Babe was pregnant and lost the baby. My stomach is churning at the sight of Steph's pain and grief as she clutches herself, and the armrests of the chair are threatening to break in my clenched hands. I consciously relax them, knowing I can't risk scaring Stephanie. I can't believe she went through that alone, and especially as a traumatized teen herself. I'm not sure she ever mourned the loss of that baby, and it's clear she is blaming herself even now for the miscarriage. I always wondered why she seemed closed off to the idea of kids. Steph's bitch of a mother is the one who is unfit to care for another person, not my Babe! I use Steph's silence to steady my own emotions, wondering how much more she has to tell me.

I knew about the bets and polls placed at the Precinct and how those hurt Steph. I can't imagine how shattered she must have felt to learn her relationship with Morelli is the original bet. With her permission, this I can quickly fix; I will use my considerable influence in the community to do something I should have done a long time ago. I will shut that down. Steph will never be a wager again.

Then comes the revelation that rocks me to my core. The abuse never stopped, and I see all of Morelli's ramblings and tirades in a new light. His threat to her isn't in the past; it exists now. I've always thought I could be there to protect her. I never realized how close the danger was. In time, I will deal with Morelli. He will never harm her again.

As Steph tells me of the trauma she has endured, which doesn't even include the dangers she has faced as a bounty hunter, coupled with flashbacks, nightmares, and sleeplessness, I am amazed she is functioning at all. I've known soldiers who have cracked under less strain than she has experienced recently. My Babe has no idea how strong she is.

I knew her last car explosion shook her along with her skip's death. I think I assumed she would bounce back as always. I have failed her as her mentor and friend. I shouldn't have let the pressures of returning to work along with the distance she was maintaining keep me from actively following up on her. At a minimum, I should have known she was struggling with work. I could have easily given her back up and resources. I wonder how she is doing without as much money from FTAs coming in.

I continue to look at her through the corner of my vision. She is openly crying, but hiding her face from me. Her body is trembling with the tension, and I'm becoming increasingly concerned about her overall well-being. I don't know how much more she has to tell me, but for her sake, I hope it isn't much more.

When she does speak again, my heart breaks at the brokenness of her words, and my throat tightens. My Babe has been living in the depths of emotional hell. I am stunned at the dark depiction she has of herself. I think she believes her light has been snuffed out.

I'm staring openly at her now, but she is too lost in her thoughts to notice. I'm about to move closer to her when she suddenly bolts. I've never seen her run so fast. It's as though she is attempting to outpace the demons she feels surround her. I match her stride but stay close behind, giving her the space she needs to move. I don't think she has any awareness of her surroundings or time as she sprints more than two miles.

I see her collapse, and I surge forth to kneel beside her, enveloping her in my arms. Her scream, Dios, please let me never hear this anguish from my Babe again. I say a silent prayer that my presence and strength will be enough to help her through this night and all the others to follow. I pray I have the wisdom and resources to give her what she needs to heal and be happy with her life again.

Holding my broken Babe, her small frame heaving with every sob and scream, my love for her deepens, and I know I am holding my own life and heart in my arms. There is nothing I won't do to show her that I love her, to help her, and to support her. I embrace her firmly, wanting to convey strength and assurance. I rub my hand in gentle circles on her back, breathing in deep meditative breaths. I'm hoping the rhythm will help her calm her own rapid and uneven breathing, bring her back to me.

Kneeling on the cold, hard-packed sand left by the receding tide, I speak softly to her, "Gracias por compartir tu historia conmigo. Yo estaré aquí para ti. Querida, te quiero. Tú eres mi luz. Eres belleza y fuerza, compasivo e inteligente, valiente y leal. Estoy sorprendido de que hayas llevado esta carga tan bien durante tanto tiempo. Haré todo lo que pueda para aligerar tu carga. Eres mi todo."

She begins to calm, and I decide to tell her the words in English. Steph needs to know I am wholly devoted to her, that nothing she has revealed to me has in any way lowered my esteem in her. "Babe," I start in a soothing tone. She lifts her eyes to me, and I pause, taking in the intense emotions contained therein. "Thank you for sharing your story with me. I will be here for you. My dear, I love you. You are my light. You are beauty and strength, compassionate and intelligent, courageous and loyal. I am astonished you have carried this burden alone so well for so long. I will do anything I can to make your load lighter. You are my everything."

She looks confused and sorrowful before she lowers her chin. "How can you say that?" she says quietly into my chest. "How are you not walking away completely convinced I am a dirty, shamed, failure of a woman? Everyone told me my whole life that all of this is my fault, and I think I've come to believe it. I cause bad things to happen to me and others. I'm not a good person."

My hardened soul shatters. A single tear escapes from the corner of my eye. I pick my Babe up, cradling her in my arms. "Stephanie," I passionately say. "You are the best person I know. I am in love with the amazing person you are. You sharing what has happened to you could never take away from my love. None of this is your fault. Lean on me. Let me be your strength. You don't have to do this alone anymore. I will never leave you." I kiss the top of her head, holding it a long moment.

I feel the inner battle Steph wages as she considers my words. I let out my breath as I feel her relax in my arms. She lifts her head to meet my gaze and says, "I'm not sure I believe what you say about me is true, but I will try. Thank you for listening to and being there for me. I love you." My heart swells and a second tear escapes as she leans up and quickly kisses me on the lips.

I turn, and we begin our journey back together.