Just wanted to update before the weekend. First Ranger POV in a while...
Chapter 10
Ranger POV:
I rolled onto my back on my bunk, tossing my arm over my eyes to block out the light leaking in the windows. This whole situation was fucked.
I'd spent more time sitting on my ass during this mission than actually doing anything. I took this job so I wouldn't have to think about what had happened in Trenton before I left. Now that's all I did. I had too much time to think, and I didn't like the conclusions I was coming to.
I'd tried to push everything from my mind, but that didn't work. Stephanie kept flashing back into my mind. The disappointed look on her face, the anger, the sight of her being led by a hand on the small of her back by another man.
Jealousy rose again in my chest at the thought of her with another man. I didn't know when Stephanie Plum had managed to sink her hooks into me, but she had.
I sat up, running my hand over my long hair. Before I left, I had cut it short, into a tight crew cut. Almost eight months of not visiting the barber had it brushing against the collar of my shirt.
I handled everything poorly; I could admit that now that I was away from the situation. My contract was up at the end of this mission with the option to renew.
Maybe if I went back to Trenton, I could fix my fuck ups. The question was, would Steph let me? At this point I hope she hadn't married the cop. She deserved better than either of us. The difference between the cop and me, were if I had Steph, I would at least make the effort to be worth her.
I was half tempted to call her. I had a sat phone, and I was allowed to use it whenever I wanted, but I wasn't sure she would answer. If she did, she would probably hang up as soon as she heard my voice. She made it clear she didn't want anything more to do with me. Maybe I needed to respect that.
"Manoso," Martin said, walking in. The captain was a good man. On this mission he was serving as my second. He reminded me a lot of a younger Tank.
I raised an eyebrow, and he began to talk. "The general said no intel had been uncovered. He said we need to get ready to head back out."
"Finally, we get to do something other than sit around," Richards said from two bunks over. I previously thought he was asleep, a book open on his chest, arm thrown over his eyes. Apparently, he had been snoozing.
"Go roundup Davidson and Smith," I directed the order towards Richards. He nodded, springing from the bed and walking out of the door. I shook my head.
Every time I looked around these guys were reminding me just how old I was. I definitely wasn't a spring chicken anymore. I had aches and pains, I woke up every morning with a sore back from these cots, used to sleeping in my bed on seven. My body had gotten beat up over these years and it was definitely reminding me of the fact now.
My knees cracked as I stood, and Martin shot me a raised eyebrow look and my return look was a glare. He shrugged and walked towards the door. I opened my footlocker, finding the picture of Steph and me that I carried everywhere.
It was taken not long after we met each other. Tank had been waiting in the car for me to come out of the bonds office, when I had pulled Steph into the alley for a 'discussion'. In all reality, those were always a way for me to get to touch and kiss her without her pulling away, afraid of what other people would say.
I kept it in between the pages of my old copy of the Art of War. I had carried it around for years now, worn and faded; the book was a perfect place to keep the picture safe. I never carried it out into a mission with me, I didn't want to risk getting captured and my captors figuring out who Steph was.
I stared at it for a moment, committing it to memory one more time. I slid it back into the book and buried it back in the locker. Martin was waiting for me outside. I slid my cap onto my head and he walked next to me.
"Let's get this over with."
Steph POV:
I sat in the car, a pair of binoculars around my neck. I was still following around Johnson. In the time I had been following him, I hadn't found any proof that he was dirty. I was ready to report to Carrara that he was clean, but weird.
It was late on a Friday night. Prime time for criminal activity. I had to cancel with Blake to follow Johnson around.
Blake and I had been in this Friends with Benefits thing going on for about a month now. In the nine months since Ranger walked out of my life, I had turned it around.
I had supportive friends, a relationship that I didn't second guess every time I thought about him, and I was proud of myself.
Johnson walked out of the cop bar, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. He stood against the building, and I waited.
As he was putting it out a car pulled up to the curb. The passenger window was rolled down and words were exchanged. I watched Johnson take a look around and before he slid into the car.
When the car pulled away from the curb, so did I. I left my lights off, trying to not alert them to my presence. I followed from a distance as they made their way towards the warehouses on the water.
I waited down the street as the car pulled into a lot next to a warehouse. With my eyes on Johnson and his friend, I strapped a gun to each thigh and buckled my belt around my waist.
I slipped from the car, the cold air biting at my bare arms. Johnson and his friend slipped into the building, and I silently made my way across the lot.
I glanced in the windows, Johnson and two men stood next to crates. I found my phone, dialing Carrara's number. She answered it, voice husky like I had woken her up.
"I think I've got your proof," I whispered softly.
"Did you get pictures?"
"I will."
"Where are you?"
"Down at the water, in a warehouse. You're sure Johnson isn't working on an undercover case?"
"Yes, I've talked to a lot of people. There's no way he's working one."
"I'll get the pictures," I told her.
"Can you get audio?"
"I'll let you know." I grunted. I was really putting my ass on the line to get an in on the inside of the department.
"Try not to get shot," she said.
I rolled my eyes and hung up. I moved around the building, slipping in another door. The warehouse was two floors, they were on the first, in the middle. It was brightly lit with floodlights, lighting whatever they were looking out.
Their voices grew louder the closer I got. Pulling out my phone, I crouched behind a stack of crates.
I made sure to stay in the shadows as I started to record them. The last thing I needed was them seeing me.
"Is this the whole shipment?" Johnson asked. One of the other men nodded.
"How soon can we deliver?" Johnson asked.
"Whenever you clear the way for us," the second man answered. The first nodded in agreement.
"The Italians will be very happy when we hand this shipment over."
"Can't believe O'Malley is selling to the Italians now." The first shook his head.
"He's only doing it because he doesn't want the Russians coming after his turf if they take the Italians." The second rolled his eyes. "He wants the Russians to stay in New York."
There's a murmur of an agreement from all three of them. "Let's pack them back up," Johnson said.
As they turned their backs to me, I shifted, bumping into a crate causing it to scrape across the concrete. The three of them turned with their guns drawn.
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…. I shut off the phone, slipping it into my pocket. I pulled one of my guns and started to shift back into the shadows. I know I didn't make any noise but one of the guys decided to take a shot.
I bit my tongue as the bullet tore through my arm. I covered my nose and mouth with my extra hand to make sure my breathing was silent.
Johnson slapped him on the shoulder. "Damn, dude! Don't even know what you're shooting at."
I kept backing towards the door almost to the rear of the warehouse. "Well don't just stand here! Go look!" Johnson growled.
I eased the door open and slipped through it. As soon as I made sure it shut without a sound, I stood booking it towards my car. I started it, the motor catching.
I was gone before any of them made it outside. Tossing my gun into the passenger seat, I tried glancing at my arm. I couldn't see anything since I was wearing a black jacket.
It didn't take me long to get home, parking in the garage. As the adrenaline let down, pain started to radiate through me. I holstered my gun and slid from the SUV.
I texted Carrara I would meet her tomorrow as I made my way inside. Shutting my door behind me, I leaned against it with a sigh. I stopped in the kitchen to drop my gear onto the counter and made my way into the bathroom.
I set my phone down on the counter and shrugged my jacket off. It peeled away from my skin, pulling on the new hole in my arm as it went. I dropped it on the floor and turned on the light to admire it in the mirror.
The bullet had taken a chunk from my arm, worse than a graze but the bullet had gone completely through. It would be a nice scar to add to my growing collection.
As I dug out the first aid box from under the sink, I dialed Blake's number. He answered on the first ring. "Are you home?"
"Jeez, were you waiting up for my call?"
"Yes. It's a Friday night and I was worried."
"You're too good for me," I said, opening the case.
"How did it go?"
"I only got shot once," I answered with a dry laugh.
"WHAT?"
"It's just a graze."
"Did you go to the hospital?"
"And tell them what, that I got shot while surveilling a cop?" I snorted.
"I'm on my way over," he said, accompanied by the jangle of keys.
"You don't have to do that," I hissed out as I cleaned it.
"We were already supposed to spend time together, besides you'll probably do more harm than good. I've got first aid training." He huffed.
"Far be it from me to argue with you, then." I rolled my eyes. Even though he couldn't see it, he could sense the sarcasm.
Blake didn't live far, so it didn't take long for him to tell me he was in the parking garage. When he buzzed, I let him up, meeting him at the door.
He came up the stairs wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants, a white t-shirt and two mismatched sneakers. His hair was mussed, a five o'clock shadow graced his jaw, and a pillow crease was visible on the side of his face. He looked good, and I couldn't help but let my eyes roam.
He took me in, wearing a black tank top, black cargos, and black combat boots. His eyes focused in on the red stain on my arm. "Get inside," he ushered.
I rolled my eyes with a smile, as he shut and locked the door before dragging me to the bathroom. His hands found the backs of my thighs and he boosted me up onto the counter. He shook his head as he studied my arm.
"Since when do you have first aid training?" I asked him.
"I wanted to be an EMT. Used to be certified." He shrugged. "That was in college when I couldn't make my mind up about my life."
"More of the mystery uncovered." I grinned.
"This needs stitches," he said.
"Everything is in there."
He pulled out what he needed, including a bottle of vodka and a pair of gloves. I cracked open the vodka and took a swig, coughing at the burn. I might be a badass at my job now but that didn't mean vodka didn't burn going down.
"You gonna be able to handle this without a local?"
I nodded. "Been through some pretty bad scapes. This is one of the better ones, actually."
He shook his head and got started. I hissed, turning away. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before getting back to work. I almost sent a prayer of thanks up to God when he announced he was finished.
Blake threw away the gauze, gloves and anything else he had used. When he deemed the area clean, he stepped between my legs. He started unlacing my combat boots, my foot braced against his stomach. The first boot hit the ground with a thud before he peeled the sock off. He set it back down and picked up the other. I watched him, as he took care of me.
When he was finished, he stepped back between my legs and cupped my cheek, the other hand finding my hip. His green eyes bore into mine as he studied my face.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded, "I'm fine, just the one scrape, which isn't that bad as you can see."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Do you want to take a shower or go to bed?"
I wrapped my legs around his waist, scooting towards the edge of the sink. "Bed." I sighed.
He smiled, leaning down to kiss me. "Big brave bounty hunter." He grinned.
I sent him a glare. "Alright Mr. School Teacher, wanna be EMT."
He barked out a laugh as he picked me up and turned out the lights. "Hit a man where it hurts."
I smiled and wrapped my good arm around his neck. I kissed him softly as he walked me to bed. He set me at the foot of the bed and began to strip my clothes off me. He followed suit, finally noticing he was wearing two different shoes.
He let out a bark of laughter. I crawled, naked as the day I was born, under the blankets, patting the bed next to me in invitation. He shot me a sexy smirk and crawled in at the foot of the bed.
I felt him move towards me, grabbing my calves and separating them. He moved between my legs nuzzling and nipping at the skin of my thighs. My fingers threaded into his hair as he sucked at my skin, no doubt leaving a mark.
I woke up to Blake walking into the bedroom with two take out cups of coffee in his hands. I stretched, smiling lazily. Blake's eyes trailed over me as the blankets slipped, revealing more of my body to him.
He sat on the edge of the bed next to me as I sat up. I pressed a thank you kiss to his lips as I slipped my coffee from his hand. I sighed after the first sip of hot coffee. The first sip in the morning was always the best.
"So…." Blake started. "You gonna give me an idea of what happened last night?"
"Which part?" I asked, giving him a saucy grin.
He looked tempted to roll his eyes at me. "The part that ended up with you having to be bandaged up. And also, why do you have so many boxes of medical supplies under your sink?"
I shrugged. "I work in a dangerous business. Last night I was gathering info. It's not the first time I've been shot at and probably won't be the last."
"I'm gonna guess that since you won't elaborate about exactly what you were gathering info on, it's secretive, so I won't ask. But…"
"But?"
"I just want to know if getting shot was worth it. Then I'll leave this topic alone."
I didn't want to involve Blake in this. It could go sideways too quickly. I was investigating a cop for another cop. I'm pretty sure half the shit I pulled during this was illegal. Blake didn't need to know that though.
"It was," I told him.
He eyed me for a moment before nodding. "I was going to cook breakfast; do you want anything specific?"
"Whatever you want to make." I smiled. "I've got to do a little work this morning on the computer. I should be finished before you finish breakfast."
He nodded, standing. He pressed a kiss to my temple before walking out of the room. I slid from the bed, finding his shirt from last night and slipping it over my head. I slid on a pair of shorts and found my phone on the floor next to the bed. It still held a charge, so I made my way into the living room.
Sitting in the alcove office, I opened my laptop and connected my phone. Sifting through my desk drawer I found three flash drives. One would go to Carrara and the other two would be my insurance.
It didn't take long for me to transfer the files before disconnecting everything, Blake stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Breakfast is done, whenever you're ready."
I stood, shutting the laptop and walking into the kitchen to join him. I saw bacon and omelets on the counter. I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my toes to kiss him softly.
"Kitchen, dining room, or living room?" he asked.
"We should probably sit at the table. It hardly gets used." I smiled.
He chuckled, carrying the plates while I carried the coffee. As we were finishing breakfast my phone rang. I gave Blake an apologetic look and he shrugged with a smile and started loading the dishwasher.
I walked into the living room and picked up my phone. Carrara was calling. "Yeah?" I answered.
I could hear Blake in the kitchen turning on the dishwasher. He stepped out into the hall and motioned towards the bathroom. I nodded at him, and he went to take a shower.
"You got it?"
"Yes." I rolled my eyes.
"When and where do you want to meet?"
"The park around one," I answered.
"Make sure you're not followed." I felt myself roll my eyes again.
"Same to you."
She chuckled and hung up the phone. I shook my head and walked to the bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and opened the shower curtain. Blake stood in all of his glory under the spray. Meeting my gaze, he smirked, offering me his hand.
I smiled and took it, letting out a surprised squeak when he pulled me against his chest. His hands roamed to my waist and squeezed my ass. I leaned up and claimed his lips in a kiss. "What do you have to do today?" he asked me.
"I've got a meeting with a contact at one."
"Hmmm," he said, leaning down to kiss me again. "How would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"
"I would like it a lot." I smiled.
He smiled and kissed me softly.
"Six thirty?"
I nodded and he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. My back found the wall as his lips claimed mine again.
I sat with a cup of coffee between my gloved hands at the picnic table I had previously sat with Carrara at. I saw her coming over the hill. She walked to the table, swinging one leg over and sitting before bringing the other over.
She raised an eyebrow, and I slipped the flash drive out of my pocket. I had wiped it down before the meeting and slid on a pair of leather gloves. I couldn't risk someone getting a hold of the drive and running prints, trying to be nosey.
"It's all on here?"
"Pictures and videos." I confirmed. "What are you going to do with it?"
"I don't know yet."
I nodded. "Let me know if you need anything," I said. She nodded as I stood.
"I'll be in touch," I told her as I stepped around the table. I took a step past her putting us back-to-back.
"Why does that line make me feel like I owe a debt to the devil?"
I laughed softly. "Not quite. Don't worry, I don't want your soul."
She made a noncommittal hum and I grinned to myself walking away. Ranger may not have taught me a lot about being a bounty hunter, but he sure as hell taught me how to keep people closed off from your true intentions, and how to keep them guessing.
