Disclaimer: All characters belong to Janet Evanovich, except the ones that are mine. I'm only playing with them and I promise to send them home unharmed, although Ranger may be a bit dehydrated.
Warning:Language,SmutAlert,Quotesfromall17books,Badwriting,AbsentMuse,Writer'sBlock,RealLife,Youknowthedrill … AlsoTaking literary license here! I've given Quakerbridge Mall a few upscale stores that they don't really have.
A/N: Thank You to Miranda,Comma Correctionist and Hyphen Houdini, forEditing, and Beta-ing Love, to Kashy, Friend Extraordinaire, and to Lisa, Burggirl, Maggie, Di, Kat … you know who you all are! Without your laughter and friendship, pep talks and support, as well as encouragement and letting me rant, I'd be living under a rock someplace.
And Thank You to Everyone who has read and reviewed Love … Love wouldn't be Love without you.
And a special 'Thank You' to the Cupcake who inspired this story.
What I Did For Love
Stayce
(XJerseyGirl)
Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart.
William Butler Yeats
The bravest thing that men do is love a woman!
Mort Sahl
Chapter 36: To Love You More!
Ranger and I soaked in the huge ball-and-claw footed bathtub, just kissing and touching while the storm outside howled. Wrapped in his arms, safe and warm, his fingers drifting hypnotically up and down my arms, I leaned back against his chest and dozed. I don't think I'd ever been more contented or satisfied in my life.
I found myself thanking Mother Nature, and definitely Hal, for bringing us here to The Sea Witch, instead of to the bright lights and big city feel of Washington, D.C. It was like we were in our own little world, up here at the top of the house, snow swirling all around us, kind of like being inside a snow globe.
It was finally hunger that forced us out of the tub. We bundled up in the big fluffy robes that the Inn provided, and sat on cushions and pillows we piled in front of the fireplace, to raid the picnic basket that Ella had packed for us. I had to wonder how she'd known that we'd need a midnight snack. Only it wasn't a snack, it was a meal fit for kings!
Ranger retrieved a bottle of the Champagne that he'd stashed outside the window in the snow-filled flower box, and popped the cork, filling crystal flutes with the ice cold liquid. We toasted each other, then feasted on brie cheese, topped with figs and pecans and honey, that we'd put close to the fire until it got all soft and melty. We ate it on artisan bread with paper thin slices of salty Serrano ham.
There was a treasure trove of tiny, sweet yellow tomatoes, little baby gherkins, smoked oysters, cold roast beef crusted with cracked pepper, pâté, and French baguettes with sweet butter. For dessert there were fresh, ripe strawberries for Ranger, and brandied peaches with Romanoff sauce for me. And chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate, tucked away in the bottom of the basket. All washed down with more Bubbly. Ella was a goddess!
"Did you know," Ranger asked as he fed me a grape-sized tomato, "that almost everything in this basket is considered an aphrodisiac?"
"Really?" I peered into the basket. "Ella probably felt sorry for me and thought I needed all the help I could get seducing you," I said, and gave him a pissy face. "I had such a long dry spell, I was practically re-virginized."
Ranger barked out a laugh. "For me, too," he popped a tomato into his own mouth. "The dry spell, that is."
"Oh, come on!" I rolled my eyes. "You really expect me to believe that you've been celibate?"
He almost smirked. "Well, not while you were with Morelli."
"Thought so! All those months in Miami, you probably had hot beach babes just crawling all over you!" I huffed.
"Jealous?" He gave me the full-on 200 watt smile. I just narrowed my eyes and glared at him.
He looped his hand around the back of my neck and hauled me over to him. "You are my only hot Babe… and don't you everforget it." After kissing me breathless, he dangled a chocolate covered strawberry in front of me.
"And all it took to make you lose control was crotchless panties." I shook my head. "I guess they qualify as an aphrodisiac, too, huh?"
"You have no idea!" he grinned. "That was erotic fantasy number one! Don't suppose I could I convince you to go commando from now on?"
"Yeah. NO!" I swatted at him with my hand. "Can you imagine if Lester found out and started blogging about it?"
Ranger groaned. "I'd really hate to have to beat him to death. It's such a mess to clean up." Ranger humor.
"While we're on the subject of beating … you aren't going to do anything bad to Hal, are you?"
He looked around the room, then back at me and cocked an eyebrow. "Babe! The Honeymoon Suite?"
I remembered the stunned expression on Ranger's face when Mike had showed us up here. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
Ranger shook his head, and I swear he rolled his eyes. "I suppose I should give him a raise."
And then he smiled at me, and I launched myself at him.
A long time later, when the lights flickered and went out for good, I had a full tummy and a happy buzz on. Ranger collected wood from the firebox out in the hall and stacked it next to the fireplace. I went to the closet and got out the lanterns that were stored there, as well as extra blankets for the bed.
"Now it's probably gonna get cold in here," I sighed in disappointment, watching Ranger add wood to the fireplace.
"Yeah. Even with the fireplace, we're going to have to do something to keep warm," he said, stacking more firewood.
"Maybe we should bundle up and climb into bed?" I suggested.
"Survival training teaches that the best way to keep warm is to share body heat. That's direct skin to skin contact." He strolled toward me.
"Really?" I lifted my eyebrows. "So, we're gonna snuggle?"
Ranger just shook his head. "Not quite what I had in mind."
"And that would be … what, exactly?"
"Erotic fantasy Number Two." Ranger grinned at the wide-eyed expression on my face, then pulled off his robe, revealing his massive erection. I guess all those aphrodisiacs did their job!
I squealed as he scooped me up in his arms. "Grab that Champagne!" he ordered, and I reached for the snow filled silver bucket.
We both laughed as he carried me across the room, deposited me on the big brass bed, and put the Champagne within reach on the marble topped bed table.
Ranger tipped his head toward the painting that hung on the wall over the headboard. It was a portrait of the French courtesan who had owned this fantasy bed. She was sprawled, naked, across the mattress. Her dark curls spilled over the pillows, her lush lips parted, dreamy blue eyes half closed. With her hands over her head, her fingers curled into the ornate brass vines and flowers of the headboard, she looked like she was still in the throes of passion.
"It's every man's fantasy to make his woman look like that."
My heart gave a little flutter in anticipation, knowing I was about to experience the mother of all orgasms … again! And I swear that Ranger knew exactly what I was thinking.
He gave me a sexy grin and pushed me back onto the pillows. Slowly, he untied the belt of my robe and peeled one side of it open. Barely touching me, he skimmed his fingertips all the way down the right side of my body, from my face to my toes. Then he repeated the same torture on the left side. That's all it took, and I was on fire again.
I looped my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine, fusing them in a soft, sensuous kiss that seemed to last forever. Our tongues met and tangled, the hot, wet slide in and out mimicking what we both wanted other body parts to be doing. I shifted on the bed, trying to bring him between my legs, but he broke the kiss and started a sweet assault on my body instead.
My eyes drifted shut as Ranger laid a trail of kisses from my mouth to my jaw, from my throat to my shoulders, over my collar bones to my chest. He took his time, kissing and nipping and tasting, returning to invade my mouth again and again.
"Open," Ranger whispered and touched the tip of his tongue against the corner of my mouth as he moved to straddle me.
I parted my lips, and waited, for what … I wasn't sure. I slit my eyes open to peek. Ranger held the Champagne bottle above me, then tipped it and poured the wine onto my tongue. When the overflow ran down my chin and settled in the hollow of my throat, he lapped it up. Taking a drink from the bottle, he kissed me again, and our tongues danced on the bubbles.
I stretched my arms above my head on the pillows as he worked his way down my body. It felt like his mouth and hands and teeth and tongue were everywhere at once. He grazed the underside of my breasts with his teeth as he kissed and nuzzled and licked his way from one breast to the other. His fingers kneaded my flesh, his tongue tasted me. And everywhere he touched, I burned.
The contented sigh that escaped me turned into a sharp cry as he sucked my breast into his Champagne filled mouth. Like an electric shock, the icy bubbles burst, almost painfully, around my nipple. The sensations shot through me and headed straight south to that spot between my thighs. I arched up off the pillows, pressing myself farther into his magic mouth.
"You like that?" he asked, licking my rock hard nipple. He raised his head to look at me. "Again?"
"Oh, yes," I breathed.
He moved to my other breast and, taking another sip of Champagne, treated that nipple to the same attention. By the time he was finished, I was breathless and trembling.
With an evil grin, he poured a tiny stream of Champagne onto my ribs. I hissed at the cold, and my muscles automatically clenched, making the drops of liquid slide into my navel. His eyes never leaving mine, Ranger bent his head and sipped at the Champagne, then licked his lips.
"You're so bad!" I gasped.
"No, baby," he murmured, brushing his lips over my belly. "You just taste so good!" He sank his teeth into my hip bone, then laved the same spot with his tongue. He slid farther down my body, his eyes dark and feral.
Positioning himself between my legs, he spread my thighs wide then bent my legs so that my feet were flat on the bed, opening me to his view. He ran his hand over my belly and mound and down between my thighs. "You're so soft, so smooth," he whispered, nuzzling me and letting his fingers drift over my newly waxed skin. He followed with his mouth, kissing my inner thighs, then moving to nibble and kiss my naked, baby smooth lips. "I could eat you alive!" he breathed, and proceeded to do just that.
He pulled back and picked up the Champagne bottle again, holding it high. My breath caught in my throat as I waited to find out where those bubbles would burst next. I watched as the bottle moved over me and gasped when he finally tipped it. The drops sparkled like diamonds in the firelight, and fell in slow motion, splashing onto my overheated skin.
I whimpered and raised my hips when the icy liquid slipped down between my lips and the tiny bubbles exploded there. Dipping his head, he caught the drops, his silken tongue sliding over the most sensitized part of me. I writhed under him, pressing myself against his mouth, searching for release.
He slid a finger into me, then another, curling them to hit my g-spot. Between the ice cold Champagne, his hot mouth, the bubbles bursting on me, I was on sensory overload, and when he sucked me firmly between his lips, I came so hard I think I must have blacked out for a second. I had never, ever experienced anything like it before.
The moment I came back to myself, Ranger was on me, pushing my legs open wider, lifting my hips, sheathing himself in me. My internal muscles, still spasming from that staggering orgasm, clutched at him like a fist and held onto him as he tried to pull out of me. My body didn't want to let him go.
He moved, slowly at first, sliding all the way out, then hesitating, building the anticipation before driving home again. We reveled in the sensations of flesh on flesh, the friction building the fire, increasing the heat.
Every time either of us got close to coming, Ranger changed our positions, lifting my hips, shifting me on top of him, pulling me onto my knees. Anything to make it last longer.
And then we were face to face again, his mouth so close to mine we shared each erratic breath. His eyes closed, his heart thundering against mine, he groaned out my name, "Stephanie … Stephanie …" and he lost himself in me.
While the blizzard raged outside, there was a different kind of storm inside. There was a wildness about us that was almost frightening. We were both filled with the same need, the same overwhelming primal hunger for each other, and we fought to satisfy it.
His forearms were under my back, his hands curled around my shoulders, his fingers biting painfully into my skin. Ranger pounded into me like a man possessed, and I scratched and clawed and bit at him in return. I met every thrust, taking him in deeper, harder, each stroke taking us higher, winding us tighter.
I twisted my hands into the brass flowers and vines of the headboard, and held on for dear life. I was afraid if I let go, I'd be so lost in him I'd disappear, spin away like the snow outside the window, gone forever.
Sounds, more animal than human, filled the room, and ricocheted off the walls, echoed off the ceiling. My keening whimpers, his guttural groans voicing our pleasure and pain, as we held each other on the brink of orgasm … until we just couldn't hold on anymore. I was sobbing when I finally let go, and then I was outside of myself, free-falling, flying. Ranger ground out my name one last time, then followed me over the edge, and together, we fell.
Finally, we collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs, gasping for breath, shuddering with aftershocks, stunned by the intensity of the passion we'd felt.
"God Almighty!" Ranger rasped out against the side of my neck.
I could only lay there, barely able to breathe much less move or speak.
Ranger turned his head and pressed his lips to my cheek, then rose up on his elbow and smoothed the hair back from my face. "Tears," he said, his brow furrowed in concern as he studied my face. "Christ, Stephanie ... I hurt you!"
"No," I murmured and managed to shake my head. "No. Just so … so…" I couldn't find the right word, and I couldn't seem to stop the tears, either. My emotions overpowered me.
"Yes," he said. "It was …" Ranger was at a loss for words, too.
He rolled off of me and gathered me into his arms, wiping away my tears with the edge of the sheet. We just held onto each other for long minutes. I think we both knew that what had happened between us had been more than just wild animal sex, even more than love-making. This had been mating, claiming, a statement of possession … the beginning of something both wonderful and absolutely terrifying.
A long time later, when our heart rates had dropped back out of the stratosphere and we were both able to breathe, he glanced up at the painting that hung over the bed. "I was right," he said. "That's exactly what you look like when you come." He kissed me, hard and greedy, on my mouth. "I'm jealous of every man who ever made you look like that."
I made a derisive noise. I had a tough time picturing Ranger being jealous about anything, much less me. "No worries in that department, Batman. No one but you has evermade me feel like this."
"Good to know."
Men! Whatever woman figured them out should write a book and call it, "The Care and Feeding of the Male Ego". She'd make a fortune. Too bad that woman wouldn't be me!
Ranger snuggled me into the curve of his body and wrapped the comforter around us. I watched the firelight dance around the room, secure in the arms of the man who loved me. My last thought was to wonder where I could buy Pop Rocks. After all, if Champagne bubbles gave me that kind of thrill, can you imagine what that fizzy candy could do for Ranger? I thought about what his reaction would be when I took him into my Pop Rock filled mouth, and chuckled.
"What?" he mumbled.
"I'm just happy," I whispered and smiled to myself.
"Me, too," he said softly and held me tighter.
The next morning I burrowed out from under the blankets to see Ranger building up the fire again. "Electricity still off?" I yawned and stretched and winced, my muscles screaming from last night's sexual gymnastics.
"Yes, and it's still snowing and blowing out there. But thanks to an auxiliary generator, we have hot water and Laura said she'll make breakfast whenever we want it."
"Good! I'm starving! I think I worked off every calorie I've eaten in the last month."
With the wind howling outside, it sounded as cold as it felt and I was almost tempted to snuggle back down under the covers. Ranger picked up my robe and held it in front of the fire, warming it up so it was all nice and toasty when he helped me climb out of bed and slip into it.
Groaning, I hobble over to the windows to look out at the snow. Ranger came up behind me, put a cup of coffee into my hands, and wrapped his arms my waist. He rested his head on my shoulder, and we looked out the window together.
Through the flying snow, we caught glimpses of the snow drifts that hid the beach and boardwalk across the street. The plows had left mountains of snow on either side of the street, but it still looked impassible. Beyond the beach, the ocean was grey and angry, with huge, wind blown waves crashing onto the shoreline.
Maybe the whole world outside the windows looked cold and desolate, but in here, with Ranger's arms around me, there wasn't a thing I wanted or needed. I leaned back against him, and he pressed his lips to my temple.
"You need to a long soak in the tub before breakfast," he whispered in my ear. "It'll help all those sore muscles."
"Sounds wonderful," I said with a sigh.
Ranger grinned. "Need help? I'll be glad to give you a hand," he wheedled and started to massage my shoulders and the back of my neck.
"Ohhhh," I sighed. His hands felt so good. "Thanks, but no thanks," I said with a laugh. "I don't think a "hand" is what you want to give me."
"Busted," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "I'll start the tub. You finish your coffee." He dropped a kiss on the back of my neck and headed into the bathroom.
Later, when I brought my clothes into the bedroom so I could get dressed in front of the fire, Ranger was lounging on the bed, his hands behind his head, ankles crossed, waiting for me. It seemed like a good idea to treat him to a reverse strip-tease. Keeping my back to him, I dropped the bath towel and shimmied into my undies, giving my butt an extra wiggle.
"You have the most perfect ass," he said from the bed. "And someday …"
"Don't say it! I know where you're going, no pun intended." I bent over to adjust my boobs in the bra cups, giving him another wiggle and I heard him growl and start to get up.
I spun around and pointed a finger at him. "No!" I ordered. "Stay!"
He arched that damn eyebrow. "What am I? A trained poodle?"
"You're a horn dog!" I laughed and tried to drag on my clothes as fast as I could. "You woke me up twice during the night! Aren't you ever satisfied?" I pulled my sweater over my head.
"That's not my fault. If you weren't so hot and sexy …"
I flung a pillow at him. "You're so full of it!"
He rolled off of the far side of the bed, came around the footboard, and grabbed me around the waist. "I want you to be full of it!" he said, pulling me against his erection. I shrieked when he lifted me and dropped me onto the bed, then came down on top of me, pressing me into the mattress.
I squirmed under him. "What happened to breakfast? I'm starving," I laughed.
"O-kay," he said with a melodramatic sigh. "Just one kiss. You can spare that, right?"
"I suppose," I said in mock impatience. I looped my arms around his neck and tipped my head back, waiting for him to kiss me. Instead, he slipped out of my arms and slid down my body, his fingers catching in the elastic of my panties. He started dragging them down my legs.
"Hey!" I slapped at him. "You said one kiss!"
"Yes, but I didn't say where …" he laughed, and planted a kiss on my bare belly. "Go on," he said, rolling off me and sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Go get dressed. Hurry up before I change my mind!"
"Maybe I changed my mind!" I shoved him back onto the bed and swung my leg over him, straddling his legs. I dragged at Ranger's belt buckle, popped open the button on his jeans and unzipped him, setting him free.
It was my turn to go a little crazy, I guess. I went down on him like he was the last thing I'd ever eat! Pun intended! This was a take-no-prisoners, no-holds-barred, full-frontal assault, guerilla warfare blow job. I cupped his balls in one hand, and without any foreplay, I sucked him into my mouth with a force that would have done a Hoover proud.
His fingers twisted into my hair and his head thrashed from side to side as I worked him hard and fast. "Holy G… AHHHHHHHHHHH!" He exploded, long and hard, the second I deep throated him.
I rode out his orgasm, milking him dry, then stood up and tossed my hair. "Up and at 'em, buster. Breakfast is waiting. Chop, chop! Get a move on!" I grinned to myself as I headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth. I left him on the bed, with his arms outstretched, his eyes rolled back in his head, and I'm pretty sure he was still breathing. Good job, Steph!
We had two more fantastic snowbound days in our own private world, filled with stellar love-making and easy laughter. Having Ranger all to myself made it the best vacation I'd ever had.
Our bags were packed and down in the car. I didn't want to leave and stood in the doorway of the Honeymoon Suite, looking back at it wistfully.
"We'll come back," Ranger said from behind me.
"Promise?" I leaned back against him.
"Cross my heart." He pressed a kiss to my temple, took my hand in his, and we went down the stairs and out the door, on our way back to real life.
The two SUVs filled with Merry Men were waiting for us at the on-ramp to the Garden State Parkway. Since they'd gotten on the last ferry to Delaware and didn't have to pick up the skip, they'd made it to Washington, D. C. ahead of the storm.
They'd holed up in one of the big D. C. hotels, along with just about every female flight attendant, from every canceled flight out of the D. C. airports. In typical RangeMan fashion, the men had taken it upon themselves to provide aid and comfort to all those lovely bored ladies. You know that was sarcasm, right?
I guess they took the job seriously because each and every Merry Man looked like hell. Bobby was pale, Ram couldn't stop yawning, Cal's flaming skull tattoo looked burned out. Only Lester had any energy. He was busy transferring phone numbers from scraps of paper, cocktail napkins, matchbooks, and a white lace thong into his Smart Phone.
Ranger was surprisingly forgiving, largely because the men had that federal skip in tow. When they got to the beach house where he'd been hiding out, the skip practically put the cuffs on himself in exchange for a trip through McDonald's drive-thru. He'd been snowed in too, but without electricity or food, and he was freezing cold and starving to death.
Ranger dropped me and our bags in the penthouse, kissed me stupid, and went with the guys to turn in the skip at the Federal Building downtown. Normal life had resumed. Ah well, even Iknew we couldn't live in fantasyland forever. Dammit!
The next morning, we were reading the newspapers, catching up on world events, over breakfast. Okay, so Ranger was reading the Wall Street Journal, and I was reading all the funnies that I'd missed in the Trenton Times. Just a difference in priorities.
"So," he said, folding his paper and laying it aside. "How soon can you start on Miami?"
"Huh?" I looked up from reading Zits. "Start what?"
He smiled as he picked up his coffee cup. "Having the in-house parts department has already made a positive impact on installation efficiency here in Trenton. I think it's time to get RangeMan Miami on board."
"Really? That's great! I love doing that stuff," I told him. The mental wheels started turning. "All I need is the name of whoever's in charge of the installations, and I can get things rolling."
"Then I'll set up a Skype session with Sanchez," Ranger said. "He's Miami's Hector."
"I can take it from there."
"I know you can," Ranger gave me his 200 watt-er. "Maybe when face-to-face negotiations are finished, we can take a couple of days, and I'll show you around Miami."
"After the blizzard that stranded us in Cape May, aren't you afraid that a hurricane'll hit if we go to Miami?"
"The thought crossed my mind. I'm thinking we need vacation insurance."
"Probably not a bad idea!" And we both laughed.
"Before you get started on Miami," he said, "do you want to work from my office up here, from a cubby on five, or do you want your own office downstairs?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "By 'my own office' are you talking about the janitor's closet again? Because the smell of that nasty bathroom deodorizer permeated everything, including me! It took me weeks to get rid of that awful pine smell!"
I think Ranger actually grimaced. "I acted like an ass."
I made a "ya think?" face. "I had a few other carefully chosen descriptive adjectives for you back then."
"I'll bet." He topped off my coffee and slathered a croissant with orange honey-butter before passing it to me. A peace offering, I guess. He was getting pretty good at distracting me with food.
There was still one thing from that awful time that Ranger and I had never discussed. It was that big "elephant in the room" issue, about why he'd spent two weeks in Miami without letting me know that he was back. Neither one of us ever brought it up, but still, it haunted me.
He looked across the table at me, and I swear to God, he read my mind. He gave a barely perceptible nod. "Just remember that there are still things I can't discuss with you." It was my turn to nod.
I took a couple of deep breaths for courage, scared that I wouldn't like the answer he gave me one little bit! Still, I jumped right into the deep end of the pool. "How could you spend two weeks in Miami without letting me know you were back?" I said, amazed that I still felt so much hurt and anger. I carefully folded my napkin and put it on the table, just to give myself something to do with my shaking hands. "And then you just showed up here, ready to pick up right where we left off … like everything was just … peachy." I practically spat that last word.
Ranger sat, silent and still, for a couple of very long minutes. I, on the other hand, fought the overwhelming urge to fidget. I managed to sit still, but my eye was twitching up a storm. The silence in the room was deafening, and I almost jumped out of my skin when he started to speak.
"I handled things badly, Stephanie. For both of us."
Was that an apology? I just raised my eyebrows at him.
"It's a long story … I'll tell you the whole thing someday," he said quietly. "The short version is that I got back stateside and immediately heard that you were back with Morelli."
I wondered who had reported on me to Ranger. Which one of the guys, who I thought of as my friends, had given him a play-by-play of my life while he was gone? That hurt, too, and I pulled my feet up on my chair seat and hugged my knees to my chest.
"When I got here, I knew you'd already made your choice." He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. Ranger fidgeting.
"But how could I make a choice if I didn't even know …"
He held up a hand, cutting me off. "You used to think that because I didn't display emotions, I didn't have any feelings. So, and this is difficult to admit," he dramatically laid a hand over his heart. "You dealt a lethal blow to my ego." He gave me a grin.
"I did?"
"Big time!" he snorted. "So, I acted like a jerk, and I lied about how long I'd been in Miami."
"How long were you back?" I asked.
"About twenty-four hours."
My eye popped open wide and my jaw dropped. "A day? You were only back a day? Why did you lie about it?"
He took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose. Ranger's version of a sigh. "I suppose I was trying to make you think that your choice didn't matter to me."
"But it did. Matter, that is."
He just gave me a single nod and picked up his coffee cup. "Oh, yeah!"
I was more than a little shocked that I had the ability to hurt Ranger. That I had hurt him. "And that'swhy you acted like a complete dick for the next couple of months?"
"Yeah. But none of it matters now because I got the girl after all." He raised his coffee cup and saluted me. "Can we lay this to rest now?"
"One more question," I said, and watched a pained expression cross his face.
"Go ahead."
"Who told you that I was back with Morelli?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
I thought about it for a split second. "Yes."
He got up and came around the table, took my hand and tugged me up out of my chair, down the hall, through the living room and bedroom, into the walk-in closet, stopping in front of the safe. "Open it," he said.
I hadn't touched the safe since the day he taught me the combination. It took me a couple of tries to get it right, but finally the door clicked open. "Second shelf, big envelope," was all he said.
I hunted around and pulled out a heavy, oversized Fed-Ex mailer. "Is this one of your secrets?" I asked and carried it back into the bedroom.
"It wouldn't be if you'd gone through the safe like I suggested." He cocked an eyebrow at me.
I made a face and sat cross-legged on the bed. Opening the envelope, I slid out a thick binder and flipped it open. To say I was shocked was an understatement. There were dozens and dozens of pictures of me and Joe. There was a complete history, a whole timeline of our renewed relationship, and a calendar with dates, places we went, what we did, who we were with, when I stayed at his house, when he stayed at my place, right down to what movies we saw, and whether or not we had popcorn. The Feds couldn't produce anything more complete.
I was stunned. "Who … ?" I said.
"Last page."
The last page was a handwritten letter. All I saw was that it started "My Dearest Carlos" and ended "With all my love".
I was on my feet, holding out the dossier, shaking it at him. "Jean Ellen Burrows?" I screeched.
"Apparently she thought this would make a difference, and we'd get back together. I don't need to tell you that it didn't work."
He took the folder from my hands and slid it back into the envelope. "So what do you want to do with this?" He held it up in his hand.
"Shred it, burn it, shove it down that bitch's throat and push her into a wood chipper …" I snarled. "Take your pick!"
He chuckled and tossed the envelope on the bed, then put his arms around me, pulled me flush against him, and kissed me until my bones melted and I got all dreamy. "How many other secrets do you have stashed away in that safe?" I murmured against his mouth.
"You mean other than my 007 credentials and the keys to the Bat Mobile?" And he said Iwas a smart ass.
"Cute!" I gave him a girly smack on the shoulder. I linked my arms around his waist and put my head on his shoulder.
"Can I ask you a question," he said.
"Sure," I answered. "But you know there are some things I can't discuss with you." I was not to be out-smartassed by an amateur!
He tipped my chin up so he could look me in the eyes. "If I had been able to call you, back when I left … if I had asked you to wait for me … would you have? Would that have made a difference?"
I don't know what I expected him to ask me, but it sure wasn't that. Tears welled up in my eyes and I felt my lip tremble. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could answer him. "Yeah," I whispered. "It would have." I couldn't prevent the sob in my voice.
He gathered me close and held me like he'd never let me go. We were both late for work that morning. Good thing I was sleeping with the boss! Okay, so what we'd been doing didn't involve any sleeping.
Ranger's bedside phone rang at ten o'clock. We were in a tangle of sweaty bedlinens, waiting for our blood pressure to drop below stroke level, having moments before dispatched some high-quality passion.
He reached across me, answered the phone, and listened for a beat. He disconnected and lay back down, facing me. "ThatwasTank.You got a call from some apartment rental service. They want to make an appointment with you."
"Yeah," I stretched my arms over my head. "I called them yesterday. I've gotta get on the stick and find someplace to live."
Ranger pushed up on an elbow and looked down at me. "What's the matter with where you're living now?"
"You mean RangeMan?" I pushed up and mirrored his position, then reached over and ran my fingers through his hair. "There isn't anything wrong with it, except have you seen the size of the closets in those fourth floor efficiency apartments?" He took my hand and kissed my palm. "You know I appreciate the offer, but …" I gave a little shrug.
"No," he said quietly. "I meant here. How about staying here?"
I stared at him. "You mean … here-here?" I waved my hand around.
"Yes."
"In the penthouse."
"Yeah."
"With you."
"Um-hmm."
"You mean like … live together?"
"Babe. We already do."
"Oh, yeah! I guess so."
"So …?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Really, really, really sure?"
"Stephanie, please."
"Oh … you said please! I guess if you're gonna pull out the big guns, I can't say no, can I?" And I smiled so big, I thought my face would break.
He smiled back at me, and pulled me down onto the pillows. "In that case, I have one more confession to make. You know when you went apartment hunting with the rental agent and all your girlfriends? Well, …" and he told me the whole sordid story.
"I can't believe you engineered that whole thing!"
He laughed. "I didn't. The credit goes to your mother."
"My mother? Do I even want to know how she got involved?"
"Let's just say that she's concerned for your happiness and well being!"
"She confronted you?" I shot straight up in bed and gaped at him.
"Questioned me like the Hungarian Inquisition." Ranger tried to tug me back down.
"My wussy little Burg mom? I can't believe she had the guts!"
"Your wussy little Burg mom is Attila the Hun in drag! You'vegotahelluvagenepool,Babe."
"Oh, God! Do I need to apologize?"
Wrapping his arms around me, he gave me an evil grin. "Let me show you how to make it up to me," he said, and rolled me on top of him.
The next month was filled with both work and play. I got to travel back and forth to Miami a couple of times, meet all the Miami Merry Men, and stay in Ranger's apartment there. I worked hard and got all the negotiations for RangeMan Miami's in-house parts department finished and the contracts signed, sealed, and delivered in record time. So Ranger and I rewarded ourselves by spending a couple of fantastic days playing tourist from Miami to Key West.
No hurricanes or tsunamis ruined our fun, unless you count my meeting Ranger's so-called "sweet little Cuban grandmother" as a natural disaster. Grandma Rosa's the one Ranger said only spoke Spanish and spent all her time in the kitchen, cooking. Yeah, right!
Rosa invited us to dinner and welcomed us warmly, with hugs and kisses. She smiled sweetly, chattered away in Spanish, and sent Ranger off to the store for some forgotten dinner ingredient.
"Come," she said, leading the way into the living room. "Sit." She pointed to a chair and poured me a glass of iced tea.
Then that sweet little, white haired, old lady turned on me with a look in her eye that would have made the Devil himself piss his pants. Now I know where Ranger got that look! And Grandma proceeded to grill me like a cheap hot dog!
"The only other girl my grandson has ever brought to meet me was Rachel, and she was pregnant. Are you?"
"You speak English!" I was gobsmacked.
"Of course I speak English! I have been in this country for fifty years. My children and grandchildren were born here." She waved a hand at me. "Now, answer me. Are you trying to trap my grandson into marriage?"
"No … to both questions."
"What makes you think you are good enough for my Carlito?"
"You'll have to ask him that one. He pursued me, not the other way around."
"Humph! Do you think he really loves you, or are you just good in the sack?"
"Both, I hope," I forced a smile to cover my clenched teeth.
"He supports you? Gives you money?"
"I get a paycheck from RangeMan, that I earn. I'm sure Ran… your grandson has told you that I work for the company." Just in case she didn't know, I wasn't going to tell her that we were living together. Ranger could spill those beans himself.
She gave me a derisive look. "What kind of a woman works as a bounty hunter."
"The kind of a woman who needs to feed herself and pay her own bills," I replied as matter-of-factly as I could manage.
"You have been married? How many times?"
"Once, just like your grandson, but no children."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Why not?" she demanded. "Are you barren?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Plum, what kind of name is this?"
"It's Italian, and my mother is Hungarian."
"So," she sniffed. "You are not Cuban," the old bat curled her lip.
"No. And sadly, your grandson isn't Hungarian or Italian." I sighed deeply.
She snorted at my answer. Even though her questions pissed me off, I looked her straight in the eye and answered them honestly. If she didn't like the answers, tough. I figured that this was pretty much what my mother had done to Ranger, and if he could put up with it, well hell, so could I!
And the questions kept coming at machine gun speed. What was my education? Was I Catholic? Had I received a church annulment? Could I cook her grandson's favorite foods? Did my parents approve of our relationship? Had I met any other family members? Why was Carlos keeping me a secret? Would I be willing to sign a pre-nup? Did I want children?
When she finally ran out of questions, I felt like I'd been used for target practice. Grandma Rosa leaned back in her chair and studied me. Finally, she gave me an almost imperceptible nod, apparently another trait Ranger had inherited from her. "I like you, Stephanie. You are a good match for my grandson."
I was so shocked, I almost fell out of my chair. "Huh?" Eloquent, I know.
"All Manoso men, my husband, my sons, my grandsons, they are so handsome that women fall at their feet." She shook her head. "They are men. They get used to having what they want, when they want it. And they are bored easily." She gave me a genuine smile. "Carlos will not be bored with you, I think. You have a spine; you will stand up to him. If you are smart, and I think you are, you will keep Carlos on his toes, and a man on his toes is always a little off balance. It is a good place for a woman to keep her man."
I just sat there, staring at her in astonishment, trying to think of something to say. But no dice. I was honestly speechless.
She heaved a big sigh. "Love is a new concept for my Carlito. His is handsome and smart and driven, but still, he is a man, so he is bound to make many mistakes. You must be understanding. Make him grovel, and then forgive him." She winked at me and patted my hand.
As soon as Ranger walked in the door, Grandma Rosa switched back to Spanish.
"And what have you two been up to?" he asked.
"Just a little chat," I said.
"What about the language barrier?"
"What language barrier," I said with a smile. "We understood each other perfectly!"
He furrowed his brow and looked back and forth at our smiling faces.
"Don't worry about it," I told him. "It's a girl thing." Laughing, Rosa and I got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Ranger looking like he couldn't decide if he should be happy … or scared shitless.
A week or so later, back in Trenton, I was on the phone with Mary Lou, confirming our next mall invasion with the girls. The clothes they helped me choose on our inaugural shopping spree had been so cool, classy, and comfy that I'd actually chucked all my old ripped up jeans and stained sweats.
The jeans I wore now weren't torn from rolling around on the ground with skips, or from Dumpster diving. Instead, the rips and tears had been artfully placed by some big name fashion designer. I liked looking good, and I could tell by the way he looked at me that Ranger liked it, too.
"Okay, I'm all set for tonight!" Mary Lou practically squealed. I swear I could hear her bouncing in her chair. Obviously she wasn't glad to be getting out of the house or away from the kids or anything … just kidding! "So, what are we looking for this time?" She asked.
"Well," I said on a sigh, "Ranger and I are going to a couple of cocktail-type parties, so I have to come up with something to wear to them, and we're invited to some fancy-schmancy, black tie fundraiser, so I'm gonna need a gown." Even though no one could see, I curled my lip. "But Lou, I have to look beyond spectacular… Jean Ellen Burrows is gonna be there." All the girls knew about the file she'd sent Ranger.
"Oh, honey," I could just see the look on her face. "Don't worry about what she's gonna wear. Ranger's only got eyes for you. And we're gonna make sure you look so good that bitch'll fall off her broom!"
We both went off into gales of laughter.
"Don't forget to wear heels and a strapless bra," Lou reminded me.
"Yes, Mom. And I'll make sure I wear clean underwear in case I'm in an accident and have to go to the hospital."
Mary Lou snorted. "Now you sound like our mothers," she laughed.
"They'd be so proud!" I joked. "I'll see ya at six!"
I was running late, hustling to get dressed, when Ranger came into the bedroom, headed for the shower. I was half dressed and he was half naked, and we eyed each other, both thinking the same thing … did we have time for a quickie?
"I have a meeting in New York City at 7pm … you?" he said, tossing his shirt on the bed and toeing off his boots.
"I should already be on my way to pick up the girls," I whimpered and pulled a sweater over my head and then reached for my slacks.
"Okay, we'll have to make up for it later. You can model your new clothes for me." He gave me his Big Bad Wolf grin as he unzipped his pants.
"Sorry. I'm not getting any lingerie, just dresses." I ran a brush through my hair.
"Maybe you could stock up on those crotchless panties?" he asked. "Just a suggestion."
"I'll see what I can do." I laughed, and gave him a kiss before I slathered on my lip gloss.
Ranger stopped in the bathroom doorway. "Be careful tonight." He'd suddenly gotten all serious.
"Oh, come on!" I whined. "It's been quiet. Antoine is dead, and there haven't been any more attempts on my life. It's over!"
"You don't believe that Antoine was the brains behind all those attempts any more than I do." He ran a hand through his hair. "Something's hinky … I feel it. I think your spidey-sense rubbed off on me."
"Can I guess which body part it rubbed off on?" I grinned.
He shook his head. "Just don't let down your guard."
I rolled my eyes. "Ranger," I could hear the exasperation in my own voice. "I have Hal as a driver, Ramon's in a chase car, and I have so many GPSs on me, you could track me on Mars." I gave him "The Look". "I'm carrying my gun … it's loaded. I have mace, a stun gun, and an extra-large can of super-hold Aqua Net. Plus I'll be surrounded by a bunch of women who will turn violent if this shopping expedition is interrupted. How much safer can I get? I mean, other than locking myself in here, what else is there?"
He reached into one of his cargo pockets and held up a panic button. "Humor me."
I think my eyes crossed. "Fi-i-i-ine!" I groaned.
Ranger turned the thing on and slid his hands up under my sweater. Slipping the device into my bra cup, he ran his hands over my breasts.
"You just wanted me to carry that so you could cop a feel!" I groused.
He smiled. "Call me if you need me." Ranger kissed me on the forehead. "Love you, Babe," he whispered and headed for the shower.
"Love you back!" I hollered after him. How the hell did I get so lucky, I wondered as I grabbed my coat and purse and ran for the elevator.
Two hours later, Mary Lou and Lula and Connie and I were jammed into a dressing room, practically swimming in evening wear. We were hip deep in dresses and gowns and pants and tops, in every color and fabric known to mankind. We had all overdosed on crystals and sequins and beads and feathers and fringe.
I must have tried on a hundred different outfits before we finally narrowed the search down to half a dozen gowns. Lula had gone off to find shoes and evening bags to go with each dress, while Connie went in search of jewelry.
A couple of salesladies bustled in and out. One was putting the gowns back on their hangers, and the other was ferrying the rejects back out to the sales floor. I'm sure that visions of commission dollar signs danced in their heads.
Hal and Ramon? They both were outside the dressing room area. Hal, his face so red it was almost purple, was doing his "invisible man" routine, hiding in the palm fronds. Ramon sat in one of those "husband" chairs that were strategically placed around women's departments, texting away on his phone.
"I like this one," I said to Lou and looked at my reflection in the tri-fold mirror. "But I always wear black."
"The red one with the sweetheart neckline just screams "sexy"!" Lou said. "And that dark blue one is stunning. It gives you boobage!"
"You mean to balance out my 'buttage'?" I asked sarcastically, and glanced over my shoulder at the reflection of my ass in the mirror.
"You have to try that silver-grey taffeta number, too." She looked around the little room. "The saleslady must have taken it. I'll go get it before somebody else snags it." She went out in search of the dress.
A few minutes later, when the dressing room door opened, I turned, expecting Lou. "Did you find …" The words died in my throat and my heart stuttered in my chest. Instead of Mary Lou standing in the doorway with the party dress, there was a guy in a ski mask, pointing a 9mm Glock in my face. Oh shit! I opened my mouth to scream for Hal.
"Not a sound," he ordered ominously. "Or you and your girlfriend get hurt … bad."
I looked past him to where a big guy was holding Mary Lou, one hand twisting her arm behind her back, and the other clamped over her mouth. She didn't look scared. Lou looked pissed.
Both goons wore ski masks and hoodies and baggie jeans. It was the same "uniform" worn by the guys who had planted the bomb in my car and tried to flatten me with that tractor trailer and shot up the police station, killing Antoine.
"What do you want?" I demanded, squaring my shoulders and facing him, hands on hips. I'd be damned if I'd let him know how scared I was.
"I want you to come along, nice and quiet, and nobody gets hurt," he said.
I tried to buy some time. "I need put my clothes back on." I said, hoping I could get to the gun in my purse. "This gown isn't paid for …"
"No." He snapped. "Come on."
"Can I at least get my coat? I'll freeze to death." There was a GPS sewn into my jacket collar.
He looked at me and snorted a laugh. "I can personally guarantee that you won't be freezing to death. Let's go."
He grabbed my arm tightly and pushed me in front of him, out into the mirrored area between the dressing rooms. He used his gun to point to the closed stockroom door, down a short hall from the dressing area. "Through there." He gave me a shove.
That did it for Mary Lou. I watched in the mirrors as she bit down hard on the hand that covered her mouth, raised her free arm and brought her elbow back into the goon's solar plexus, then raked the heel of her stiletto down his shin and stomped it into the top of his foot. Goon 2 howled and Lou made for the exit.
My thug made a grab for her, and I took advantage of the distraction. I launched myself at him and slammed into his back, giving Mary Lou a chance to escape. We stumbled into the wall with me wailing on him, punching, scratching, and kicking like a mad woman. Somehow, the ski mask came off in my hand, and I found myself face to face with Morelli's buddy, Little Paulie Giamatta.
"Fuckin' bitch!" Paulie growled and shoved me back into the wall so hard I saw stars. He wrapped one hand around my throat and started to squeeze. All the little tricks the Merry Men had taught me kicked in, and I went for his face, scratching and clawing, trying to gouge my thumbs into his eyes.
I didn't stop. I pounded on him with my fists, and a lucky punch caught him in the nose with a soul satisfying crunch. Blood spurted all over the place, and he finally let go of my throat. He balled up a fist to punch me, but I ducked, throwing myself down on the floor, and he hit the mirror instead.
All the while, Goon 2 had just stood by and watched. But when Hal and Ramon charged into the dressing area and took cover on either side of the hall, he pulled his gun and swung it around wildly.
One of the Merry Men fired a shot into the wall over Paulie's head. "Paulie! Let her go and we'll let you leave!" Hal bellowed.
Paulie, the coward, hauled me up off the floor and, wrapping an arm around my waist, held me in front of him, like a shield. With his gun aimed toward where the guys were, he started to drag me backward, toward the stockroom.
"You back off or she dies right here!" he yelled, and pressed the muzzle of his gun against my temple.
He looked at Goon 2 and tipped his head toward where Hal and Ramon were hunkered down. "Get rid of 'em."
The guy held his gun sideways, "gangsta" style, and fired a couple of wild shots in Hal and Ramon's direction. He was a street thug trying to face down two professionals, and he didn't stand a chance. Hal took him out with one round between the eyes. The guy slid down the wall to the floor leaving a trail of blood and bone and brain matter.
Paulie reached behind him and rapped on the stockroom door with his gun. It opened and two more "uniformed" thugs came out, guns in hand to cover our retreat into the stockroom. One of them had an Uzi, and he sprayed the whole dressing room with bullets. Like a bomb went off, doors and walls shredded, mirrors exploded, ceiling tiles fell, the area filled with gun smoke … the sound was deafening. And then dead silence.
The last thing I saw before the door closed on us was Hal, slumped on the floor, a blood stain blooming on his chest. I screamed and tried to run to him, but Paulie slung me back into the stockroom. He lunged forward, and I saw the glint of metal in his hand, and I barely registered stun gun before I went out.
I was in absolute blackness when I came around. My mind was working, but my body was slow to respond, and I couldn't see. I was cuffed, and I was blindfolded. No, I thought. Backup. I wasn't blindfolded. I could open and close my eyes. It was just very, very dark. And silent. And stuffy. I was disoriented in the dark, and I was having a hard time focusing.
It took me a minute to realize that I was wrapped in something, a blanket maybe, and it was covering my head. I was lying on a hard, flat surface, but I could feel carpeting under me. I was in the back of some kind of van or SUV.
I became aware of road noises, and I was pretty sure I was being driven somewhere. We were stopping and starting and turning corners. We hit a highway for a few minutes, then suddenly it felt like we were off-roading, driving over rough, rutted ground. The vehicle bounced hard, and I was rolled from side to side until the covering came off my head. I was in a panel truck … no light, no windows, no idea where I was, no idea why.
What I knew with a certainty was that Ranger would be looking for me. He'd return from New York City and he'd do what he does best … he'd go into tracking mode. Ranger would find me. I just hoped he'd get to me in time.
We stopped and a door opened and slammed shut. Did I hear a siren far off in the distance? A dog barking? I could hear muffled voices and far away traffic noises and the wind blowing. With the heater in the van turned off, it was getting cold, and I was glad for the blanket that covered me.
I got the feeling that we were waiting … but for what, or who, I had no idea. We waited a long time. I thought about Hal, whether he was dead or alive. And Ramon. And Ranger. And my family.
Without warning, the back doors of the van flew open, the blast of frigid air taking my breath away. Hands reached in to haul me out of the van and drag me over to where eight or so guys, all in hoodies and baggy jeans, were warming themselves around the fires that burned in a couple of old oil barrels. None of them had their faces hidden … not a good sign.
"Here's the guest of honor at our little party," Paulie sneered.
There was a car parked between the barrels, the windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside.
I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. The ground was littered with cans and broken bottles and all kinds of trash, derelict cars, bags of garbage, bumpers and wheels and tires, boards, and pieces of plywood. I caught the glint of water, and the huge, graffiti covered, concrete abutments that rose up into the darkness. Add the constant rumble of overhead traffic, and I knew right where we were … under the Route 1 Bridge.
This was where gangs had their initiations, the homeless camped out in the summer months, and bodies were fished out of the Delaware. This was the graveyard for cars that had been torched for insurance money, old appliances, and building debris. I hoped it wasn't going to be my final resting place as well.
The front doors of the car opened, and two men stepped out. Their heads bent and collars pulled up against the wind, I couldn't tell who they were. Until they turned to look at me, that is.
Malfitano and my buddy, Rinaldi. I wasn't in the least bit surprised seeing Malfitano. I'd suspected all along that he was a dirty cop. But I have to admit I was disappointed to see Rinaldi. I'd really liked him. Of course, it made perfect sense that they were in this together. How better to cover their asses?
Malfitano strolled around the car, nodding and shaking hands with each of the men, greeting them by name.
"Where's the rest of the crew?" he asked one of them, but I didn't hear the answer.
He stopped in front of me. "Cold?" he asked.
He couldn't miss how hard I was shaking. "Yeah," I said. He pulled his coat collar up a little higher. Asshole.
"How come you got her cuffed?" That came from Rinaldi, and Paulie's hand automatically went to his torn up face and broken nose.
"She do that to you?" Malfitano asked, astonishment in his voice.
Paulie shrugged.
"Some enforcer you are," Malfitano sounded disgusted. "The Boss won't be happy!"
Wait! Enforcer? Boss? Crew? Those were all Mafia terms. I thought they were a gang … but Family? The question was … which Family? And what did they want with me?
"Uncuff her," Rinaldi was saying. "She's half frozen. You're safe." The soldiers snickered, and Paulie glared at Rinaldi, but complied.
I immediately wrapped my arms around myself. I'd have to wait for an opportunity to get to the panic button in my bra. I couldn't just shove my hand down the front of my dress with all these guys watching without them getting suspicious.
The sound of a car approaching made everyone turn, hands on guns, on alert. The soldiers stepped back, disappearing into the shadows. Headlights flashed over us, before the car came to a stop between the fire barrels and the river.
The driver came around the car and helped someone out of the backseat. I noticed that all the soldiers came forward again, straightening up like they were standing at attention, their eyes glued to the car. I heard one of them say something about "The Boss".
My eyes shot to the car too. I was anxious to find out who The Boss was … Harry the Hammer, Vito Grizzoli, Connie's uncle. Trenton still had lots of Families. Maybe I could figure out what the hell was going on.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony of the whole situation when I finally saw "The Boss". Black eyes focused on me, I could feel the hatred coming at me in waves. It made the hair on my arms stand up.
Mama Abruzzi stopped in front of me, Malfitano and Rinaldi flanking her. I guess they were the Abruzzi Family "Administration", and this was a show of force, designed to frighten and intimidate. And it was working, too. I just couldn't let them know it.
Her eyes swept over me and the evening gown I was still wearing. "Nice of you to dress for the occasion." She laughed when I rolled my eyes. "Are you surprised to see me?"
"Yeah, kinda. I figured you'd be in jail … or the loony bin." I did a one shoulder shrug.
She gave me a sly smile and transformed herself in front of my eyes. From the tall, strong, in command Capo di tutti capo, she shriveled into a small, weak, pathetic old lady.
"Who would arrest a harmless old woman suffering from dementia? One who was grieving the loss of her only child?" Her voice actually trembled. "The District Attorney was so kind, showed such compassion. He sent me home with my caregivers, to live out my life in the comfort of my home in Baltimore." She morphed back to her original self. "The fool!" she spat.
I tried to look bored and clapped a couple of time. "So, why am I here?"
"You killed my son," she said, as if it were the most logical answer in the world.
"Oh, please! Your idiot son killed himself." I folded my arms over my chest. "He should have known better than to swing that stupid sword around in a confined space. Not a real bright guy."
She took a sharp breath and anger flared in her eyes. Apparently she wasn't used to hearing the truth. "You would be well advised to show my family the proper respect!"
"Or what?" My only weapon was sarcasm.
"Or my enforcer will teach you a lesson," she threatened.
"Who? Him?" I jerked a thumb in Paulie's direction and barked out a laugh "I don't think so!" I held up my hands, showing off my scraped and bloody knuckles. "Anybody got a band-aid?"
Mama cut her eyes to Paulie's face and then pressed her lips into a thin straight line of displeasure. She stared him down, sending a clear message that she'd be dealing with him later.
Paulie shot me a look that should have curdled my blood. But I was so far past scared, I was immune.
"You may want to rethink your career choice. Your enforcer just got beat up by a girl!" I shook my head at her. "You're gonna be a laughing stock."
I knew that one hit home by the expression on her face. Sure, I knew I was baiting her. Her hands gripped a gilded cane. The fangs in a snake's open mouth held a baseball sized orb of ivory in place. Its body wrapped around and around the shaft. It was the perfect accessory for the woman who was the spitting image of the Disney Cinderella's wicked step-mother, Evil Personified.
It was also the only weapon I had a chance of getting my hands on. And I had to give it a try.
"You've been very difficult to get rid of!"
"Well, you sent a loser to do the job … how many times?" I shook my head. "You think Vito Grizzoli or Harry the Hammer would have given him a second chance? That's who you're up against, you know. You think they're gonna be worried about an old lady who makes mistakes like that?"
She was so mad she was shaking almost as hard as I was. "Then perhaps," she said way too calmly, "I should take care of you myself!"
She moved fast for an old broad. Malvolia Abruzzi clenched her teeth, swung the cane over her head, and brought it down on me. I reached up and caught it with both hands, fighting her for it. Malfitano and Rinaldi moved in, but before I could twist the cane away from her, a pair of hands clamped over my wrists, squeezing so hard I thought my bones would break. When I finally let go of the cane, I was thrown roughly to the ground.
"Lady," an all too familiar voice said. "You can't afford to get her blood on you!" Morelli picked the cane up off the ground and handed it back to her with a small bow.
Mama Abruzzi took a deep breath and regained control over her emotions. "You are right. Thank you, Joseph," she passed a hand over her face and then laid it on his arm. "Still, she must pay for the injury that she has done to my family."
I swear to God, I could see the wheels turning in her head, and I knew the second the idea struck her. She smiled, that cruel, evil smile, just like Cinderella's step-mother did. She bent down toward me. "I think," she all but hissed, "that this will prove that I can play with the big boys."
She straightened up. "You!" she pointed to one of her "soldiers". "And you, and you, and you … all of you!" She clapped her hands. "She's yours! My gift to you. Do whatever you like with her." She poked me with her cane. "Beat her! Rape her! Torture her! Make her beg to die!"
She smiled at me. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"
I was so mad; I didn't even feel the cold. All I wanted to do was to punch her, spit in her eye. Instead, I stood up. I refused to look at Joe or Rinaldi or Malfitano, and I turned to face Abruzzi's soldiers. "So, who's first?" I challenged.
"That would be me!" Paulie said, all the other men staring at him. "I have a score to settle with the bitch." He advanced on me and I had a hard time holding my ground. All I wanted to do was turn and run, but all I could do was ball up my fist and wait for him to get close enough to land a punch. Right in his already broken nose!
"Lady," Rinaldi spoke softly, barely loud enough for me to hear. "I think it would be a mistake to reward him. Especially since he's humiliated the Family with his ineptitude. It would affect the morale of the crew."
Mama took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding. "And this is why you are my Consigliere, my friend." She sighed and waved Paulie off. "Well then, what to do with her?"
"Put a bullet in her head." Malfitano said off-handedly. "She'll die frightened, crying, begging, willing to make any bargain to save her miserable life, and you'll be rid of her for good."
"Of course, you are right." She smiled at him. "The thought of finally seeing my son revenged was a bit … overwhelming."
Mama Abruzzi waved a hand at me absently. "Get rid her for me, won't you?"
"My pleasure, Lady," Joe said with a bow. He pulled out his gun, then turned, grabbed my arm, and dragged me off into the darkness.
TBC …
A/N: Wouldn't you know that just when their HEA seems within reach, there's another twist? But this is me we're talking about, so what else would you expect? You know that the course of true Love will never run smoothly in my stories ... but they'll get there eventually. I hope you enjoy this last ride on the Love roller-coaster. The HEA comes next.
Thanks for reading and reviewing … I'm a review whore to the end!
I'm sorry that it's taken so long to post, you know all my excuses by heart. Anyway, here it is … I already have half of the last chapter written, so hopefully, the HEA won't take that long to post. I'm trying very hard to tie up all those loose ends … God knows I gave myself enough of them! LOL!
Stayce