Steph POV

"Babe, can I speak to you?"

I looked up to see an unreadable expression on Ranger's face and I felt my stomach immediately tying into knots. Before he was whisked away, I felt the same energy I always do, a mix of fire and magic and then he did the unthinkable and made it even better by mentioning cake. When his family descended upon him, herding him out of the room I wasn't sure how he would feel about me when he came back. He usually didn't get mad at me no matter how often that wasn't the case with others, I didn't know how I would feel about an angry Ranger, just the thought of it made tears well in my eyes. Whatever his family talked to him about, it didn't look like it is going to bode well for me, but I knew I had whatever was coming to me, didn't I?

I stood before him, straightening out my dress with my head slightly bowed, in a familiar move he placed his hand on the small of my back and gave a firm push out of the room. I wasn't sure where he was taking me, possibly out to a waiting taxi or to sit in the car for the remainder of the day like my mother used to do to me when I was bad. There was purpose in the way he was leading me, the pressure never let up from his hand as he directed me down a dimly lit hallway. We passed several doors until we came upon a heavy wooden door that opened to a beautiful library, shelves were built into the walls, the furniture was masculine leather, a sofa was next to a coffee table that homed 3 cigar humidifiers. Natural light came through the windows and the skylight, the sun was muted by the winter sky casting a blue tone over the room that matched my mood. Ranger had removed his hand as we entered and I kept walking taking up residence in front of the fireplace, I heard the door close and thought if this was how it was going to end, I would at least have my say first. I turned around to find Ranger standing in the middle of the room by the sofa, the gloominess I was feeling broke apart, falling to my feet when I saw him. Looking at him felt like I was looking at the sun, I don't know how he seemed to radiate so brilliantly, so much warmth.

My mouth wasn't listening to my mind at that moment, I remained silent even though I knew what I should say to him. It was just hard to find the words to begin but Ranger saved me from much suffering when he spoke first.

"What you said in there, what you did," his brow furrowed, I knew he was at a loss for words.

"Ranger, let me explain, please." If I needed to plead to keep his friendship, I would, graveling wasn't off the table as far as I was concerned. I just couldn't lose him, lose what little I have of him.

"No, Babe, I don't want to hear it. I heard enough earlier."

God why do I always screw things up, I had to blink the fire burning in my eyes. Ranger stepped over to me, pulling me over to the sofa where he sat me down next to him. I don't know if I've seen him look so serious before, maybe when I would ditch a tail, but this was different.

"What you did in there, no one has ever stood up for me like you did."

My head quickly whipped up, a jumble of thoughts going through my mind at his words.

"You aren't angry with me?"

"Babe, I've never been more humbled. Thank you for the things that you said about me, I admire you too Steph." His warm fingers traced along my arm giving me goosebumps.

"But didn't I embarrass you in front of your family? They must hate me for talking to Uncle Manny like that."

"Actually, it is the opposite, they adore you almost as much as I do. I probably don't deserve your devotion or friendship for that matter, but I can't bring myself to extract myself from your life, from you."

"You've wanted to extract yourself from my life?"

The room felt as if it had shrunk down around me waiting for his reply, he stood and walked across the room, his long legs looking stout, they would have to be to hold up a man like Ranger. He stood behind one of the large wing backed leather chairs, gripping the top roughly and letting go.

"You know the things Uncle Manny was saying about you isn't true, don't you? Nothing he said had a bit of truth to it, not one bit."

His chocolate eyes fell softly upon me and a small smile graced his luscious mouth, the tightness in his body loosened and I felt my own body relax in response if only a fraction. He still had not answered my question about extracting himself from my life. He sat in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his silky hair.

"This isn't the ideal place or time for this but I don't think I can go through the entire day without it being said. I've realized a couple of things today Steph and I need to talk to you about them. Let me start with this, my Uncle Manny has always been difficult for me to navigate, he is my mama's one and only brother and has never agreed with my choices or who I am as a person. What he said today wasn't entirely untrue, there is something wrong with me, there must be. Let me get this out before you say anything."

He knew me too well because I was on the verge of opening my mouth to protest, I knew Ranger wanted to work on his karma but it kills me to realize how lowly he thought of himself. Hell, just everything he has ever done for me should repair whatever he thinks he needs to make up for. He's saved my life, fed me when I was hungry, gave me a job but above all else he accepts me for who I am. That has to count for some karma chips.

"I don't want you to see me differently, but you deserve to know a few things before I tell you what I really want to. I am a murderer."

"No, Ranger, you aren't!"

"Babe, I am. I have killed people that weren't actively trying to cause me harm, it wasn't self-defense, I sought them out with the intent to kill them. What else would you call that?"

I felt like slapping him across the face, who was he to decide he needed to carry that label around his neck.

Ranger POV

Steph's face flashed fury when I confessed to being a murderer, finally she understood what I had been trying to tell her all this time about my past. If she was going to walk away, now was the time it was going to happen, but I was surprised to hear her scream at me that I wasn't a murderer. Of course, she didn't see me that in me, her ability to always see the good in people is one of the things I've always been drawn to.

Half of my team were burning alive, their flesh falling away from their body like wet tissue paper. The rest of my team that was still standing quickly battled the flames and loaded their bodies into the back of the compact truck we had managed to commandeer. We loaded our comrades that didn't survive the blast and the unlucky ones that did.

Joel Perryman was the one that stuck in my head more than the others, he was a few years younger than me but had a wife and two children. He was burned over 80% of his body, unfortunately his face and legs took the brunt of it. Once we were relatively safe I gave him some morphine, his legs were black, the skin peeled back to expose his muscles that were a bright pink, tendons and ligaments were exposed. It reminded me of overcooked chicken drumsticks that had turned black and crisped when you left them on the grill for too long, to this day I can't stand the sight of drumsticks. I can't be sure but it seemed like his eyelids were burned off, his eyes looked overly large as if they were trying to come out of his sockets, his lips were unrecognizable like the rest of his face. As time went on, we saw his skin turn brown in addition to being black. It was a ruddy brown that resembled mangled old leather, oddly enough his hair was untouched but he was completely unrecognizable not just to identify who he was but that he was even a man. I kept him full of morphine and our medic made long cuts down his legs, arms and on his hands to allow for the swelling that would happen from the injuries he had sustained. As the hours went on, he dwindled, for one brief moment of clarity he became aware of how extensive his injuries were and his frightened eyes looked to me, unblinking, pleading. "Not like this…not like this," he barely managed a whisper, his lungs and esophagus were also damaged from the smoke inhalation. Perryman attempted to reach in his pocket, I stilled his arm, I felt inside his pocket to find a photograph of his wife and children. I held it up for him to see and he calmed down, he made to reach for the photo and I placed it in his hand, he clutched it to his chest. After a few moments he whispered to no one in particular, "kill me, please, kill me," I told him to hold on, that we would get him help but I couldn't say the bullshit line of telling him everything would be okay. I wasn't even sure he would survive all the way back to base, I knew for sure his life would never be the same again. His face would be completely disfigured, his limbs could possibly be amputated if he got an infection or just out of necessity and then there would be the countless surgeries he would have to go through. Perryman was a good man, strong, smart, a good soldier. I considered him a friend, even after I stuck him with three morphine vials in his thigh and watched him take his last breath. Those unblinking large eyes staring straight up at the sky, still as a statue. We did take him back to base but now it was in a body bag. The smell of burnt human flesh stayed in the air the entire 30 clicks back to base. The others knew what I had done, they heard his pleas, no one would ever speak of it but we all saw in each other's eyes that it had to be done, we were brothers and you always had your brothers back.

It wasn't the first time I had to make a hard decision like that but it never got easier, it was just one of the many things that would keep me awake at night. Walking through villages only to see body parts scattered about after an aerial bombing had taken out the area, little children's toys lying about, broken and covered with blood and dirt. Once I saw a rag doll that was missing an eye, it was partially hidden behind rubble but the closer I got to the doll I saw a little brown hand holding onto the doll's arm. I quickly moved, expecting to see a child at the end of that arm but as I lifted debris I saw that the arm was mangled, bone and flesh sticking out of the end but there was no little girl attached to it. I would wonder sometimes where the rest of that little girl was, that if she had only been born in another part of the world or even a different village, just what would she have done with her life? It was thoughts like that that are dangerous to think, make you question if life is even worth living or confused as to what is real or is all of this just in my head.

I knew Stephanie wouldn't judge me for having been exposed to things like that but it was what I did after those incidents, is what I was worried about. I took pleasure in finding the people that were responsible, I looked forward to finding them. I was very creative in my interrogation techniques, in my ways of killing them, my ways of making an example out of them. It was my ruthlessness that I was afraid to expose her to, she would think only a monster could do those things. How only a monster could skin a man alive, bury them alive, dismember a body…Hector isn't the only one that is good with a knife. It was the man that I became when I felt a wrong needed to be made right, the man capable of those things that I hoped she wouldn't fear because sometimes I feared him myself. You can spend so much time in the presence of evil that you forget that there is good in this world, so many beautiful things to see and feel. It's almost as though we all live in these parallel universes with each other. When I became a Ranger, I stepped into another universe and it consumed me, when my time was over and I came back to civilian life, my head was still back there. Stephanie had grabbed hold of my heart and had slowly pulled me back into the land of the living, the land of opportunity, of love and it was the land that I wanted to spend the rest of my life in, with her. To be in a war you must become war, you must be bigger and greater and more viscous than your enemy. There is no room to hesitate or show you have remorse or a conscience, you must become the devil himself. So I began telling her everything I could that wasn't classified, it was the only way for us to possibly have a chance at a life together. I couldn't keep both of us held prisoner by my past, I'd have to live with the consequences of my actions.

"Ranger, I don't want to ever hear you say those words again." Stephanie's voice became strong and firm, her eyes were glistening with tears that were breaking me, I had to ask her what made her so upset even though I knew what it was.

"I am upset Ranger because it breaks my heart that you think you are a murderer. You are worthy of good things happening to you. You are the best man I know, the only person I can depend on without any hesitation. I meant what I said, you are kind and gentle." Stephanie placed her hand gently on my cheek, her fingers brushing just by my ear.

I felt almost numb from the confession I made to her, the words had brought out a profound sadness once spoken out loud. It took every ounce of strength I possessed to share these things with her, how all the wretched and sometimes inhumane things I've done in the military and in my contract work had made me feel unworthy, soulless.

"Ranger, you aren't going coast to coast killing people and burning down cities. You protect people, it's what your business is and it's who you are! I know that you have done things that probably make you question yourself, but I also know that at the time, you did what you thought was right and what needed to be done. NO ONE has the right to come behind you and second guess choices you made, things that happened in the moment and that includes you."

I felt a sudden anger come over me, why the hell was she acting so normal about everything I told her, was she even listening to me? I snapped at her, "I skinned a human alive! I took my knife and sliced their skin off their chest Stephanie!"

She reached her hand out to touch my arm but I pulled back before she had the chance, I couldn't take feeling her soft hands on me. My flesh felt like it was on fire, my muscles were constricting asking to be punished.

"Why did you do that?" her voice sounded so tiny to my ears.

"He was running a ring of underage escorts and for top dollar you could buy time with children. This person was being used as an informant, he told secrets and people looked the other way when he did his thing. Part of my mission took me through one of his brothels that happened to house the young ones. Some of the kids were being strung out so they were more compliant. Have you ever seen a 6-year-old being shot up with heroin? Sores all over their bodies, their eyes were vacant. I couldn't just walk away. I skinned him and tied him to a post in a part of the town that everyone would see him. I've done so many things just as bad if not worse."

Stephanie slowly eased herself next to me and slipped her delicate hand inside of mine.

"Ranger, I get it. Doing something like that, I can't begin to comprehend it. But it's because I've never been faced with true evil, I don't know what I would do. I can't say what you did was wrong because…it's an unthinkable act that those kids went through. I know you saved them and however many more you saved that would have been violated by that man."

She was openly sobbing, keeping a death grip on my hand. "What if that was Mary Alice or Angie and they had no one to save them? No one like you to come along. That man deserved a horrible death, the only thing I'm sorry about is that you had to be the one to give it to him. I know I'm not an overly religious person, but I do believe there are angels and demons in this world, good versus evil. You are such a special man, your life led you to fight these demons. Think of how many lives you must have saved over the years. You can't change your history but you can move past it. I don't care what you have done. I love you, Ranger and that will never change."

My eyes closed of their own accord, I couldn't believe that Steph wasn't appalled, running so fast out the door that all I would see was a blur. She comes from white bred Burg America, a place that was cocooned in a bubble of the 1950's, how she could see past what was on the surface and understand on any level what I'd given my life to was mind-blowing to me. Maybe I've been holding myself to such a high standard, an unattainable standard that also happened to give me a reason to not let people close to me. I could keep the memories at bay but it required me to cut off most if not all of my emotions, if no one tapped into any of them I didn't have to deal with my past. Maybe I just wanted to desperately believe what this beautiful caring woman believes about me. Maybe it was time to forgive myself for the violence I partook in, for the soldiers I couldn't save, that I couldn't save the world.

Steph was now holding both of my hands, squeezing them so tightly like I might fall off a cliff if she didn't keep her grip. Sounds pretty accurate to me, she's been trying to pull me from that cliff I've been on for years since the day we met but I wasn't smart enough to grab onto her, not until now. She was my angel, has brought me salvation and love, acceptance. I squeezed her hands back and a lone tear slid down my face. Next thing I knew, my face was smothered by chestnut curls, arms tightly squeezing around my neck and a comforting weight perched in my lap. Finally, I felt like I could breathe again.