Chapter 10

Ranger's POV

"Ranger, I think you've had enough for today. If you hit that bag any longer, you're going to kill it." Lester said, half-joking. I step back from the bag with sweat dripping down my body. Still, I don't feel any less anxious than I have for the past two and a half days since Stephanie let it slip that her children are nine years old. Nine. I know their birthday was in November. Based on my math, there is a high likelihood that those are my children. Yet, that bitch hid them from me. She didn't even have the decency to write to me to tell me she was pregnant. Instead, she never gave me the chance to be in their lives. She fucking ruined my life ten years ago, and she's doing it again. Well, if she thinks that I'll let it stay, that I won't be in their lives, well, she has another thought coming."

"Ranger," Lester says, before lowering his voice, "I know what has you twisted. It would have me feeling the same way, but you aren't going about this the right way."

"Fuck off, Santos."

"No can do, Ranger. But, with that look in your eye, you need to listen to me before you do something you'll regret."

I pause, realizing that my cousin is once again correct. For a man who is as big of a man whore as Lester is, he has an uncanny ability to give good relationship advice. Who would've thought? "I'm going up to my apartment to take a shower. Meet me in my office in thirty."

"You got it."

I grab a towel and wipe my face and neck. I go to the fridge and take a bottle of water. I start drinking the water as I climb the stairs to my apartment. When I walk in, I place my keys on the table in the entranceway. I look at my home for the first time and realize how sterile it is. Yes, it's decorated impeccably, with dark, masculine colors that exude warmth and hominess, yet, it is empty. I am a wealthy man. Who am I kidding? I'm fucking filthy rich. I have millions in the bank but no one to share it with. Was it worth it? Was doing all those missions worth it?

I head back to my bedroom, stripping on the way to the shower. I take a quick, efficient shower in my large enclosure before stepping out. I grab a large towel, drying myself off before wrapping it around my waist, not that it's really necessary since no one can get here, other than Ella, that is. Next, I shave my face, taking my time so I don't nick myself. When I'm emotional, I tend to be too quick. With that task finished, I drink the smoothie and eat the breakfast burrito left for me by Ella. I glance at my watch, seeing I have to be down in my office in eight minutes. I head to my walk-in closet/dressing room to don my work uniform of black cargos, black athletic socks, black tank top, and black Rangeman t-shirt. I put my CAT boots on, tieing them securely. I finally grab my two guns, one for the holster on my waist and one for my ankle holster. The knife goes in my belt. Armed and ready, I head to my office.

I'm always amazed how all movement seems to cease the moment I enter the floor. While things do quiet down whenever any of the Core Team enters the floor, it's more so for me. I hope it is out of respect for my authority, not out of fear. Fear is a good motivator for only so long before it becomes suffocating.

I enter my office and sit behind my desk, turning my computer on when Lester strolls in. He closes the door behind him then plops in one of the visitor's chairs in front of me.

"Why are you so twisted? You know that you didn't want a family ten years ago. I know you, and I know you would have done the right thing and married Stephanie, but I doubt that you'd be married today if that happened."

"That's not the point, Santos."

"Then what is the point, Carlos?"

"I thought she was different. I thought that we had a connection; at least it felt that way to me."

"Explain."

I sigh. There are some things about that week that I never told Lester, Bobby, or Tank. Some things were too sacred to share, but I guess I need to if I want Lester to understand how I feel. "From the moment that we first locked eyes, I knew Stephanie was the only girl for me. I felt a need, deep down in my bones, to protect her, to save her. When she told me that she broke her brand new perfume bottle, I felt bad for her. So, that afternoon, when I disappeared, I got her a new bottle. I didn't even know what she wore, but I knew it was her when I smelled it. On the way back, I passed a store that sold designer bags. Since her strap broke on her duffle, it was basically useless. So I got her a Coach bag and had it monogrammed."

"Wait a minute, you bought a chick you just met perfume and a fucking designer bag?"

"Yes."

"No wonder you didn't get the car when we returned to base. You used your money on her."

"I did. When I gave the gifts to Steph, she was speechless. Steph started to cry. She told me that no one ever got her something 'just because' that the only gifts she ever received were for her birthday, Christmas, or other formal events. The night we spent together was unlike any other night. I made love to her Les, it wasn't sex. The last time we made love, the condom broke, but neither of us thought anything about it. It never crossed my mind that she could have gotten pregnant."

"Okay. She got pregnant, she had two kids. What did you expect?"

"A letter, a phone call, something! I have a right to know. But what I'm even angrier about is that she didn't tell me now. She's been working here for almost three months already, and we've been here for two. So why didn't she say anything?"

"Ranger, those are good questions, but before you get all crazy, you need to talk to her. Find out what happened. Then, ask her about now. I'm sure she has a valid reason. But you need to let her speak, and you need to listen to her too. But, what do you want."

"I want Stephanie. Dios, Lester, I still want her after all these years. She was always the one I dreamt about, the one I fantasized about, but now she's dating Woody, and damn it, she seems happy with him."

"I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, talk is that she's holding Woody at arm's length. She hasn't formally introduced him to her kids as anything other than a co-worker. Rumor is that Woody has yet to stay the night."

"You, better than anyone, knows that it isn't necessary to stay the night."

"You're right, but think about it. Whatever happens, Carlos, you need to let Stephanie dictate the pace. Also, what is going to happen when you go back to Miami? How will you see your children then? Unless you are willing to relocate here, I suggest you carefully consider how much you want to be in their lives."

"You're right. Thanks, Les. I know I need to talk to her today."

"Do it upstairs, not on the floor. If you don't want to go to your apartment, then go out of the building."

"Got it. Now, don't you have work you should be doing?"

Lester took the hint and left my office. He can be such a pain in the ass sometimes, but he is a good friend. Maybe I'll ask Stephanie to join me for lunch, on seven. Then, we will have privacy and can talk without interruptions. I decide to send her an e-mail, keeping it vague but not letting her know the location. I hit send—time to get to work.

The morning seemed to drag on. I swear, an hour would pass, but when I'd look at the time on the computer monitor, I'd see it was only ten minutes later. Usually, I'm incredibly patient. I can sit in a car watching for a skip for hours and not be bothered in the least, but today, I wanted lunch to be here, now.

Finally, it was noon. All I had to do was wait for Stephanie to come to my office. Not even thirty seconds after my thought, I heard her knock.

"Come in."

"You wanted to have lunch with me," Stephanie said. She looks so cute in her Rangeman scrubs.

"Yes, I thought we could eat in my apartment. It has a table and more privacy. What I have to discuss with you, I'd prefer for the other employees not to hear."

"Okay, that's fine," she answered, but I saw that she was nervous. Shit. I don't want her to be afraid of me. I shut down my computer and lead her out of the office to the elevators. Once in the elevator, I hit my fob so it will go straight up to seven. Only the Core Team, Ella, and Luis have access to the 7th floor. When the elevator opens, Stephanies sees the entrance to my apartment. I unlock the door with my fob and key code. As I open the door, I place my hand on Steph's back. She doesn't flinch, which is a good sign.

"Mmm, something smells good."

"I had Ella make ropa vieja. I remembered that you enjoyed it when we were in Miami."

"Yes, I did, though I must say, I haven't had anything close to that recipe since."

"I have a feeling Ella's will surpass your expectations. What would you like to drink? I'm afraid I don't have much up here, but I'm sure Ella would bring something else up for you."

"Water is fine." I get two glasses from the cabinet and fill them with filtered water from my refrigerator. I place both down on the table. Steph ladles some food into her dish, and I do the same. I wait for her to take her first bite, not disappointed when I hear her moans of appreciation.

"Oh my goodness, this is so delicious. I love Ella."

I surprised myself by laughing, something I rarely do. It seems that this meal was a perfect choice since it broke the tension, and we passed our time talking about our favorite meals, desserts, and cocktails. Finally, when we were both content and full, I moved our conversation to my living room.

"Babe, we need to talk."

I watch as Steph tenses, her body language showing that she's anxious, nervous, and scared. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Babe, don't act like you don't know."

She sighs. "No, I don't know. You need to tell me."

I can't believe she's playing me right now. I feel my anger start to rise again. "How could you not tell me that I was a father? Why didn't you let me know you were pregnant? I can't believe you were so fucking selfish. I thought you were different, I thought you weren't like most of the women I met, but you turned out to be the biggest whore of them all."

Stephanie flitches at my statement, and I see her willing her tears back. "How dare you. How dare you stand there and make this out to be my fault. What happened wasn't my fault, Mister. In fact, I did try to tell you, only to find out that the address you gave me wasn't the right one. So you have the audacity to stand before me, after not hearing from you in ten years, to accuse ME of being selfish? I changed my whole life because I made the biggest mistake of my life by allowing you to fuck me."

Shit, that hurt, like a slap to the face. That's all Steph thought I did, was fuck her? Was that what I was to Stephanie, a cheap lay? "I didn't fuck you."

"Well, then, what would you call it? Your dick was inside me, and nine months later, your kids came out of me. So, what did we do, just talk?"

"No. But I'll get back to that later. What do you mean you wrote me? I didn't get any letters from you after I got back from my deployment."

"I wrote you a lot. Then, I found out I was pregnant. I wrote you again. Two days after I send that letter, I received all my other letters back, marked "return to sender." Then I got my final letter back."

"It took you six weeks to write? I see how special I was."

"You have no fucking idea what I went through after I got home from Miami."

"It couldn't have been as bad as the Hell I was in."

"Maybe not, but it was my own personal Hell."

"What do you mean?" I ask, getting impatient.

"When I got home from the airport, I unpacked then immediately wrote you a letter, thanking you for the perfume and the bag. I put it in an envelope, sealed and addressed it. I had no more stamps, so I set the letter aside. I planned on going to the post office the next day to mail it. Unfortunately, I woke up late and barely made it to my first class on time. I left the letter on my desk. After class, I went back to my dorm so I could mail it. When I got there, there was a message on my answering machine from my father. My Grandma Plum had a stroke and was in the hospital. I immediately got into my car and drove home to be with my dad. I was very close to my Grandma Plum. She always supported me. My Grandma Mazur and I didn't get close until after my Grandma Plum died and my mother moved to California.

"Anyway, when she got out, she needed someone to stay with her. My mother refused, and my sister was too busy getting ready for her wedding. So, I stayed with her. I went to class, went to work, then helped my Grandma. I learned to cook while taking care of her. I barely had time to study and somehow managed to keep up my grades. I would write to you a little each day whenever I had a few moments.

"Five weeks after her stroke, Grandma died. On the afternoon of her funeral, I mail my first package to you. I had about twenty letters in the envelope because I had no time to go to the post office. Two days later, I realized I hadn't had a period since I returned. I was feeling off, tired, nauseous, and cranky. I thought it was the stress of taking care of my grandmother and finals. It wasn't until Rose mentioned that those were also signs of pregnancy that I even thought of it. I got a test, took it. Then I got three more and took them as well. They were all positive. That's when I wrote my second letter. Two days later, I got my package back."

Damn, my poor Babe did have it rough. I'm such an ass. I feel some of my anger start to wane.

"Once classes were officially over, Rose and I drove down to your base to see if we could leave the letters there or if there was someone else we could mail them to. They wouldn't give us any information since we weren't related to you. Then, I combed the Miami phone book for 'Manoso' only to find over twenty people listed. I did the same with Newark. My only hope was that when you returned, you'd try to find me."

"By the time September rolled around, I couldn't do much searching. I was put on bed rest in October. I was lucky to make it to term. Dickie agreed to marry me and to raise my children as his own. I thought it was for the best, so I went along with it. That turned out to be a huge mistake. When we divorced, I started to actively look for you again. I opened a MySpace account and tried to find anyone named Manoso. Do you have any idea how many Manosos there are? Then, when Facebook started, I set up a profile there. I tried searching for you, I even hired I private investigator once, but I could never find you."

Most of the anger that I had festering since Friday has dissipated. I realized that I'm partially to blame for this predicament. Since I signed my first black ops contract, I have done everything in my power to stay off the radar by renting apartments under one of my aliases and using cash whenever possible. In fact, until we opened Rangeman, I didn't even have a credit card. Even Rangeman is set up to hide my identity and the rest of the Core Team's identity.

"I'm sorry, Babe," I say, with all my anger washed away. "I've spent the last ten years cursing you for being just another tramp. Another girl who flirts with guys, making them think that she's into them, only to want to conquer them. Once she does that, she leaves, like a thief in the night."

"What do you mean?" Stephanie asks, obviously hurt.

"Since high school, I've had girls throwing themselves at me. I thought at first that they liked me. Then, in my sophomore year, I realized that they wanted me as a…trophy…for lack of a better word. Their friends wanted my attention, and so did their enemies. So, if they landed a date with me, they would be the queen bee. At first, I took that as a badge of honor. But it was after my cousin overheard a few of the girls talking about me like I was an object, rating me, that I started to play the game back. Instead of asking girls out on dates, I would simply hook up with them. I became a player.

"When I entered the Army, I was tired of that game, and I was hoping for something more permanent. It's scary, going off into the unknown, never sure if you'd come home, and I wanted someone to anchor me, to give me a reason to keep fighting. When we met, I was already using women simply to satisfy my primal needs, nothing more. As much as I didn't want to go to Miami that week, I looked at it as an opportunity to get laid a few times before going overseas. I never imagined meeting you.

"From that first moment, I felt a need, a desire to protect you. I don't know why; I never felt that way before. But something about you drew me to you. I didn't want to fuck you; I wanted to make love to you. I wanted you to be the one who would lead me home. So when we finally came together, it was better than I ever imagined it could be. When I returned only to find that you didn't even bother to write me, well, I swore off women. I refused to give my heart to anyone because I didn't want to be rejected again.

"After I started Rangeman, I did a search on you. When I saw that you were married, I stopped reading. I didn't want to know anything else. Then I came here, to Trenton, only to discover that you work for my company. I thought that I finally had a chance to be with you, that fate was bringing us together. Then I was told that you and Woody are dating. I am fine with you dating, but I won't lie, I'm disappointed. However, finding out that you've been working here for the last few months and didn't bother to tell me about MY children does piss me off."

"What did you want me to do. Hi, Carlos, we haven't seen each other in ten years since you fucked me and left, and by the way, I have twins, and they're yours. I didn't know anything about you. I know you are planning on returning to Miami in a few months. I'm not planning to relocate. I didn't really know what to do. I was going to tell you when the time was right, but I never felt the time was right."

"I want to meet them. I want to be part of my children's lives as their father. What are their names?"

"Alejandro Miguel and Lucia Michelle."

"When can I meet them."

"Listen, Carlos, I will not introduce you to the twins as their father if you are planning on returning to Miami. It won't be fair to them. I won't let them get attached to you only to have you leave them behind. You can't be a father when it's convenient for you. So, unless you plan on spending a large portion of your time here, in Trenton, then I will not tell them that you are their father."

Ouch. That hurt, but I know Steph's right. What do I want to do? I mean, I can just as efficiently run Rangeman from Trenton as I could Miami. I would have a family, my family, here, near me. And maybe, I can have Stephanie, too.

"Fine. I'll move my office to Trenton. Aside from traveling to Miami or Boston for evaluations, I'll primarily work out of Trenton."

I can tell that Stephanie was surprised, but I'm not sure in a good way. I watch as she carefully weighs what she is going to say.

"Fine, I'll introduce you to them, but you need to give me time. I don't want to spring it on the twins too quickly. They know of you, and I shared with them what I knew, that you were in the Army, from Newark, and Cuban, but they don't know much else. Let's tentatively plan on me introducing you next weekend."

"Deal. And Babe, if there is anything you need, please ask. I want to help you support them. You've done such a fabulous job for the last nine years, but I know it was difficult. Anything I can do to make life easier for you, just ask."

"Thank you. Right now, though, I need time. Oh, please don't tell anyone. I figure Lester, Pierre, and Bobby might've figured it out, but I don't want anyone else to know, at least not yet. I need to figure out how to tell John. God, this is going to be a mess." I watch as Steph settles into the couch, elbows on her knees, head in her hands, looking defeated.

"We'll figure it out together, Babe. Whenever you're ready to let the cat out of the bag, let me know."

"Thank you, Carlos."

We stand up and hug tentatively. Still, I'm a little apprehensive about the weeks ahead, but I am optimistic that I will win the girl.

A/N: Here is the chapter you've all been waiting for. I hope it lived up to expectations and answered your questions. I hope you're happy with the way both Steph and Ranger are handling the situation. Please keep the reviews coming. And to my fellow Americans, Happy Independence Day (a day early). Special shout out to Kelly for the ideas with the letters, MySpace and Facebook. And a shout out to my amazing beta, Susan. You Babes rock! :-)