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

A/N: Happy Monday, and happy October! I hope your fall is off to a great start. Thank you again to everyone who left a comment, especially those I can't reply directly to, and thank you all for reading my story. After the weekend, let's kick off the week with this extra long chapter. Enjoy!

Thank you, misty23y, for the time you spend editing my story and challenging the details.

Chapter 21

Date/Time Stamp: Monday, September 17th 0600-1045

Stephanie POV

Carlos and I spend the rest of the day and night in Daytona resting in each other's company. I can feel myself beginning to relax and heal in his presence, but I know I'm far from being back to myself. Slowly, I am finding that in allowing myself to be vulnerable and trust him with my weaknesses, I become stronger. We shower together, and he doesn't judge me or use the intimate situation to pressure me physically. When I have another nightmare, I don't hide, but accept comfort in his arms willingly. I know that even in the midst of my darkest days, I have found the light of love my soul was looking for in Carlos. Regardless, I'm a little afraid he is going to become tired of my neediness and begin to consider me a burden, but I am doing my best to have faith in a future together.

Like most mornings, I give up on sleep at daybreak. Carlos and I return to the diner for breakfast, enjoying the sunrise with a walk on the beak. When we return to the motel, Carlos and I quickly pack, check out and walk to the parking lot. As it turns out, it only takes three nights instead of four to have a breakdown, but I'm glad I won't be charged the extra night. It's astounding how much things have changed in my life since Friday.

Of all things, we never discussed transportation to Daytona. I stop under the check-in awning, staring at my car, unsure of where to go. It isn't a Porsche, but as I've had this little Honda more than most of my vehicles, I've grown fond of it. More importantly, it's mine; I paid for it in full.

Carlos, carrying both of our bags, pauses beside me, saying, "I arranged with the rental car company to have my car picked up here. Would you like to drive, or should I?" I look up at him with a big smile.

I dig the key ring out of my purse and place it in his hand, saying, "I don't know what I did to deserve you. Thank you."

"Babe, I think it's the other way around," he replies, giving me a smile of his own.

If Carlos is uncomfortable settling his larger frame into a compact car, he doesn't show it and even manages to make the ordinary vehicle seem sexy with his presence behind the wheel. We turn south with GPS indicating at least a four-hour drive ahead of us.

I internally wrestle with the decision to acknowledge my phone or throw it out the window. I eventually pull it out of my purse, staring at the message indicators. Carlos glances at me, assessing my indecision, and places a comforting hand on mine. "Let's listen to these together," I say. "Then you'll begin to get an idea of what it's like for me every time something happens in my life." I press play.

First message, Friday, September 14th at 9:08 am: "Hi Stephanie, it's Connie. I got your text. I can cover you a couple of days with Vinnie but keep this trip short. He's already pissed you've been bringing in fewer skips lately. You're going to need to go for some higher bonds when you get back if you want to keep your job. Between you and me, I saw some papers on his desk, and I think he's looking for another bounty hunter."

I let go a long exhale, relieved I already made the decision to quit. I can't blame Vinnie for looking for my replacement. He has a business to run, and both he and my checkbook know I haven't been bringing skips in lately.

Second message, Friday, September 14th at 10:13 am: "Stephanie, it's your mother. How long did you say you'll be gone again? When will you be back? Where did you go? I can't take care of your rodent forever, you know."

It didn't take her long to regret helping me, I think with resignation. I should have known better than to trust she would be there for me. I can feel my shoulders and neck beginning to tighten.

Third message, Friday, September 14th at 11:09 am: "Yo, Beautiful," came Lester's voice. "I see you're driving south. You should let me join you. I make an excellent road trip companion. But seriously, where are you going, and are you in any danger? Please call me back."

Lester's playful tone in the first half of the message makes me smile slightly, and I feel bad I made him worry. Lester is one of the people I connect best with at Rangeman, and I consider the possibility I should I open up to him and let him be a part of my solution moving forward.

Fourth message, Friday, September 14th at 11:24 am: "Cupcake, I'm sorry. I know things have been different between us, and I know something is up with you. The best part of us is the sex, and without that, we are barely friends. When you get back from your vacation, I'll have removed all your things from my home and returned them to you. I'm moving on. If you want to compete for the title of Mrs. Morelli when you get back, you can do so on an open playing field. I love you, I always will. I hope you figure out what you want."

I sigh and close my eyes. Just hearing Joe's voice makes the hair on my arms stand up, and I roll my shoulders attempting to forcing some of the tension out of my body. The last time I heard that voice, he was trying to rape me. My stomach clenches at the memory, and I grind my teeth together.

Fifth message, Friday, September 14th at 11:36 am: "Stephanie, it's your mother again. Why are those thugs at my door asking me about you? Did you involve me in the trouble you always find yourself in? Keep me out of it! I expect you to call your mother and explain yourself."

The back to back double whammy of Morelli's voice and my mother's condemnation has my stomach rolling.

Sixth message, Friday, September 14th at 1:45 pm: "Hey White Girl, where you at? Why you leave town without telling me? Word has it you are on the outs with Morelli again. That true? Why you keep breaking up with Super Cop? Call me back, ya hear. I don't want to keep finding out about you second hand. We have a reputation to keep up."

I can hear the slurp of a fountain drink and the crinkle of a wrapper as she hung up. It occurs to me Lula is only asking about the gossip, but she never asked how I am doing. I will need to be more cautious in the future with the information I relay to her.

Seventh message, Saturday, September 15th at 8:03 am: "Steph, it's me," comes Mary Lou's voice. "You are not going to believe what I just heard! Janice told Bev who called me saying Morelli was seen with Terry Gillman leaving that cheap motel on the edge of town at 6 o'clock this morning. Did you guys break up? Are we ok with this? Call me!"

I know Mary Lou only has good intentions, but I feel shocked at the news. That didn't take Morelli long. Was this a first time, or has he been cheating on me? I place my hand on my stomach, slightly sick. First the Dick, now this. What is so wrong with me that I'm not enough in a relationship?

Eighth message, Saturday, September 15th at 9:21 am: "Stephanie, what's this I hear about Joseph and that Terry Gillman? Did you break up and leave town? What did you do to push that nice boy away? You need to come home immediately and fix this," my mother said. Why does my mother always take Joe's side? Why haven't I ever been worth her love and loyalty? My head is pounding.

Ninth message, Saturday, September 15th at 10:02 am: "Hey Cupcake, I've spent the last day thinking. I take back my last message. I don't want to break up with you. I'm sorry things got heated between us. The boys and I have been missing you, and I was feeling impatient. Forgive me, and let's make this right."

I hear Morelli's attempts at charming me, and I know I've listened to this voice, nearly these exact words before during our on again, off again relationship. I'm suddenly sure this was not his first time with Terry. The only question remaining in my mind is how long he has been unfaithful.

Tenth message, Saturday, September 15th at 11:14 am: "Stephanie," Grandma says my name, drawing out every syllable. "You would not believe the tiff your mother has worked herself into because she thinks you left Joe and forced him into Terry Gillman's arms. Well, good for you if you did. He's a good for nothing horse's patoot. I put Rex in my room, so he wouldn't get accidentally ironed. I hope you find yourself in good company this weekend, someone with a nice package. See you soon! Love you, Sweetie!"

I smile tightly, glad to hear someone caring about me. Grandma has always been my greatest champion.

Eleventh message, Saturday, September 15th at 3:38 pm: "I'm your mother, Stephanie. When I say call me, it means to call me!"

I turn my head to look out the window as unwelcome tears fills the corners of my eyes. Why does my own mother time and again reject me?

Twelfth message, Sunday, September 15th at 5:21 pm: "Steph, it's Val. What did you do this time? Do you know how much your antics affect mom, and by extension the rest of the family? You need to think about others and not just yourself when you pull these stunts." Valerie the Saint.

I knew it was only a matter of time before my mother enlisted her as a soldier in her fight against me. And as always, Valerie is a willing foot soldier.

Thirteenth message, Sunday, September 15th at 9:24 pm: "Cupcake, don't ignore me. We can work it out. Please give me another chance. I want you to come back."

This time Morelli used his bedroom voice, but the words were slurred, and I knew he had been drinking, just as he had Thursday night. I hate myself for the feeling of fear that rises up inside me at the sound of his voice, and I now have both hands on my stomach.

Fourteenth message, Monday, September 16th at 7:45 am: "Stephanie Michelle Plum, how dare you leave town in dubious circumstances, use us to take care of your pet and then not even have the common courtesy of returning a phone call. I know I raised you differently. When I say call me, I don't mean days later. Call me today, now!" says my mother's shrill voice.

My nausea increases exponentially, and I feel a tension headache developing. I try to ignore both the symptoms and push through the remaining messages.

Fifteenth message, Monday, September 16th at 8:53 am: "Cupcake, why aren't you returning anyone's phone calls? Your mother is quite upset, and I understand Manoso's goons were asking around about you. You need to call me immediately, or I'll be forced to file a missing person's report," Morelli threatens.

Sixteenth message, Monday, September 16th at 9:14 am: "Cupcake, I heard from a few people around town that Manoso hasn't been seen since Friday. You better not be with him. You know the minute you give yourself to him he'll dump you the first chance he gets. Men like Manoso don't bother with Plain Janes like you who have nothing exciting to offer between the sheets."

At this point, I'm feeling betrayed, hurt, scared, sad and angry. I thought I loved him, and that he loved me. I thought we had a good, healthy sex life, that we both got satisfaction from each other. Yes, I mean I did fake it a few times, but those were extenuating circumstances. I thought the same of the Dick. How am I such a lousy judge of character when it comes to my heart?

There were several more from various acquaintances who only seemed to know my number when the gossip was getting good. I saw more of the same when I scrolled through the texts. Glancing at the clock, I see it took nearly 45 minutes to go through all the information.

"The texts are more of the same," I tell Ranger in a detached voice. "Come home, where are you, everyone wanting to know about my private life, the usual."

I glance over and see Ranger's hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Babe, how often do you have to listen to messages like that?" His voice is tight, and I can tell he is controlling his anger.

I shrug in resignation. These messages are such a commonplace occurrence for me; I don't feel anything as substantial as anger anymore. "Every time anything happens. It's usually worse. I smoothed a few things over before leaving town, so I expect a lot more calls and messages between tomorrow and the next day."

"More?" Ranger looks shocked. "I knew you tended to be the center of gossip from time to time, but I had no idea."

I look out the window, merely saying, "I'm used to it." That is usually true but listening to the messages this time was different. I'm still clutching my stomach with one hand, and suddenly, the car feels small. I turn off my phone and stow it in my bag while asking Ranger in a strained voice, "Please pull over at a gas station."

I can feel his eyes on me as I rest my forehead on the cool glass of the side window and listen to the blinker signaling our move to the exit lane. I can't look at him. I love Ranger, and I hate that Morelli and my mom have this effect on me. We park, and I move to undo my seatbelt quickly. As I do, Carlos reaches over to take my hand, his thumb rubbing small soothing circles. "You shouldn't have to be used to it, Babe. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. This isn't your fault. Querida, te quiero."