We stay at the 'hospital' a little longer than the required twelve observation hours, so Ranger and I can both rest. Getting out of that bed takes a lot of effort, but with Ranger's and Amy's help, I manage. Just. Amy then helps me into a pair of Ranger's shorts and his hoodie. The shorts we have to tighten and roll up, so that they won't fall down with every step I take.
By the time we step out of the off-the-grid facility, the sun is just rising on the horizon. He won't let me walk, so Ranger carries me back to the car and lowers the seat for me again, before safely depositing me into it. Even after a good amount of sleep, Amy let him rest in an available hospital bed, his anger is still there. That in combination with the bandage on his temple and the bruise on his chin, makes him look dangerous and bad tempered. And I do not know how to fix that.
A good driving companion I am not, because I am conked out in the passenger seat for most of the day. Ranger wakes me a couple of times when we pull into rest stops, so I can use the toilet, eat something and take my meds. Doesn't matter that Doctor Gerald and Nurse Amy treated all of my injuries, Ranger still insists on checking them every time we stop.
Twelve hours later, I am finally lucid and drugged up enough to sit up a little straighter, only to discover that we are in slow moving traffic. A quick Google search tells me that there is a pile up just outside Minneapolis on I-94. We both decide it is for the best to make a detour, because according to the news, this traffic jam will last a few hours. The detour ends up leading us an hour away from the city up to Lake Onamia.
And because there is no way Ranger could drive on any longer than he already has, despite his insistence that he can, I find us a charming B&B for the night. As soon as we step through the door, the person behind the front desk takes one look at me and instantly lets us know that she has nothing available, despite the fact that rooms are available online. It takes Ranger's charming smile, his black AMEX and a fifty percent tip to persuade her to let us stay anyway. When the woman hands us the keys, she warns us not to make any trouble. "The Sheriff is my son in law and I have him on speed dial."
"No worries Mam. We will be no trouble" Ranger shoots her an assuring smile that I know is fake as fuck, but works on the poor old lady, who blushes.
"Why did you get a room with connecting doors?" I query when we are out of earshot of the owner.
"That way I can check in on you every few hours."
"As per the concussion protocol, I am fine now. It's been more than twenty four hours." I inform him, which he completely ignores.
"Let's just drop the bags off and then go and eat." I barely suppress a sigh at the change in topics and just nod. "Let's get Takeaway."
Once upstairs, Ranger drops my bag in front of the bed and then proceeds to open the connecting door to drop his bag next door.
"Are you sure? You drove all day, don't you want to sit back and relax?" I call out while grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste from my bag. I need to wash my face as well. I feel really sticky.
"I won't relax, because everyone will be looking at us. Last thing we need is more people asking questions." He answers grimly as he walks back into my room.
"Let me just…" I show him the contents in my hand, then turn and walk into the bathroom. I barely suppress a whimper as pain shoots from my collar bone and ribs when I try to squeeze Toothpaste onto my brush. Who would have thought those parts of my body are being used when performing such a simple action?
"Let me do it" Ranger growls from behind me. I startle and press down onto the tube once more, making the paste squirt out all over the floor, while a new wave of pain floods my body.
"Fuck" I growl and steady myself on the counter.
"I am sorry" Ranger is next to me in an instant and taking the brush and paste out of my hands. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"You are like a freaking Ninja" I mutter through clenched teeth.
"Concentrate on your breathing. It will take your mind off the pain."
"I know" I growl. "I have done this plenty of times before."
Ignoring my sour mood, Ranger holds out the toothbrush for me to take "Here."
Remembering my manners, I nod and say "Thanks" before turning and brushing my teeth, which is also not an easy task, but I push through. I know that if I show any slight discomfort, Ranger would swipe the toothbrush out of my hands and do it for me. And I am not okay with that scenario. I don't even want to imagine having to ask him for help, if I had my period. Talk about gross and uncomfortable.
"I will order dinner" He states quietly before I can feel him rather than hear him disappear into the next room. Next thing I hear is him saying "Three Bacon Cheeseburgers, extra fries, a small salad, two Coke Zero's and two glazed doughnuts please."
I rinse my mouth, wash my face and when I turn, I find him in the bathroom doorway watching me with anger in his eyes again. "You gonna survive on only a small salad?" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"The temple is on a break right now."
"Clearly" I mutter when I think of what he snorted up his nose yesterday.
Once outside the hotel, Ranger guides me through the streets to the Restaurant where he placed our order. When I step inside with him, everyone we pass just stares at me, so I tell him "I am gonna wait outside."
I saw myself in the mirror just a few minutes ago. I do not look all that great. My lip has swollen to epic proportions. My head has a nice big lump, the fingerprints on my neck have gotten darker and thanks to the sling, I look even more like a beaten woman. But then, I suppose, I am a beaten woman.
Before I can go down the rabbit hole of that thought any further, I push it far down and concentrate on my surroundings instead. It is a quaint town, but not many people seem to be here at the moment. Summer holidays are over and the next long weekend isn't till mid October.
Before I know it, Ranger is back out with a big paper bag and the smell coming out of it makes my stomach growl. "You feel up to going down to the Park?"
"Sure" I nod. It doesn't take us long. There are a few teenagers around, smoking and drinking, but otherwise it is deserted. We find a bench far away from them and then dig into our food. "This is so good" I say, but it comes out all garbled and muffled because my mouth is full.
Ranger lets out a chuckle, but doesn't say anything else, even after we are finish with our food. So it is up to me to fill the silence. "Did you used to do that?" I ask and when he raises an eyebrow in question, I nod towards the teens on the other side of the park.
"Any chance I got" he answers, taking me by surprise with it. He never told me much about his family or teenage years. "Home wasn't a place I wanted to be, so Les and I always snug out and met up with other friends at the park."
As much I want to pepper him with questions about his home life, I ask instead "Ah yeah? You guys found trouble every chance you got back then, huh?"
"Oh yeah" Ranger chuckles, a faraway look on his face, which is still handsome despite the band aid on his temple, the dark bruise on his chin and the dangerous aura he is giving off. "The corner store used to sell me alcohol, because I picked it up for my father all the time. I would use that as an excuse to get beers and alcopops for my friends and I. We would take the drinks to the skate park and do dumbshit." He shakes his head, lost in the memories. "Les has a scar at the back of his head, from when he thought he could Hippie Jump a fence. He made it over, only to land awkwardly on the board, which rolled out from under him, causing him to fall backwards. Les ended up hitting the bar with the back of his head….he didn't care that he hurt himself, but was rather unhappy that the unfortunate accident had been taped by one of our other friends, who had stolen his parents camera."
I chuckle. "Did he have to go to the hospital?"
"That would have gotten us in trouble with our parents. So we patched him up as best as we could. It really is an ugly scar, which he still grumbles about."
"Sounds like, even back then, he was vain." I comment.
"Oh yeah" Ranger chuckles and finally looks at me with a smile on his face. "We used to be able to get into the local nightclub with fake ID's. It was an unspoken agreement in our friends group to tell Les that we would meet an hour before we actually planned to, because he was always late. He had to do his hair." And damn, if Ranger doesn't roll his eyes.
I laugh out loud, which is swiftly followed by pain shooting from various parts of my body. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I take a deep breath to suppress the groan, but one look at Ranger and I know the moment is gone.
"Let's go back." He suddenly stands and gathers our rubbish.
There is not one word said between us the whole way back to the hotel and when we get into my room, he instantly walks into his, closing the connecting door with a quiet click.
With a sigh, I come to sit on the bed and just stare at the closed door. Tonight was the most he has opened up to me in a while. Even though it was just a silly story, I learned more about his childhood tonight than I have in the last seven years of knowing him.
Already anticipating my body's protest if I'd try to take off my shoes by hand, I slip each off with the other foot. It takes some wrangling, because the laces are tied quite tight, but I manage it in the end. Next are the shorts, which just slide off, thankfully. The zip up hoodie is a different matter. Losing the sling and straightening that arm, causes a great discomfort, but I once again bite down on my lip to get the hoodie off. Panties are a non issue, but when I glance down at my sports bra, I let out a groan of frustration. The article of clothing in question doesn't have a zipper or a clasp. Luckily it is a non impact bra that is a little more stretchy with little criss cross straps over the shoulders and back. I manage to get the straps off and over my arm on one side, but the other side, the one with my injured collarbone, is a lot more painful.
Accompanied by a lot of silent swearing, tears and nearly blacking out from the pain, I manage to get that side down as well, but it hurts like a motherfucker.
Then try to mentally prepare myself for the toughest part: sliding the bra down over my stomach and hips. There is no way in hell I am going to be able to pull it up and over, when I can't even lift my arms higher than halfway up to my shoulders.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Ranger almost shouts, startling me. With the blood rushing in my ears, I didn't hear the connecting door open. When I glance over at him, I find that his hair is wet and that he changed into some loose shorts and a form fitting t-shirt with the Rangemen Logo on it. He must have had a shower. The angry look on his face is still there and in two strides he is by my side.
"I need to take a shower." I simply answer.
"Jesus, why didn't you say something?"
"You made it perfectly clear you didn't want to talk to me." I gripe. "I can do this on my own."
"The hell you can" Ranger growls and runs his hand through his hair, causing water droplets to fly through the air. "I am going to cut this off you." He turns back towards his room, but my hand shoots out and grabs his forearm to stop him.
"It's my favorite."
"Babe, you cannot lift your arms to get this off you. I will buy you a new one."
"No, this was a limited edition...I splurged on it...just…" I bite my lip "can you just try to slide it down instead?"
For a few seconds he just stares at me, before he nods reluctantly with a sigh. "Fine."
It takes some effort, and a lot of sucking in my belly, (what can I say? With everything that is going on, I really enjoyed my daily dose of donuts) but he manages to get it off me. "Thank you." I tell him and walk into the bathroom to get into the shower. Only to discover that I cannot even wash myself. With a sigh, I lean my head on the glass partition, letting the water pound my back. Fuck. "Ranger?" I call out, hoping he is still in my room.
"Yeah?" He calls back in an instant.
Resigned I reply "I need help."
I feel his presence before I can even hear him. I hear clothes rustling and then the door of the shower opening and closing. "We can't let your head get wet." He reminds me and I just nod against the glass. Maybe if I don't look at him, this isn't happening. I hear the lid of my body wash opening, then closing, before his hands come lightly down on my shoulders. From there he gently washes my back and my arms. The suds feel good on my skin and I sigh with relief. Without uttering a word, he carries on downward, washing my hips and butt, before letting his hands travel down my legs.
I know I shouldn't be turned on, especially not in the state I am in, but I get wet between my legs nevertheless. My breathing is more laboured and images from a different time in our lives flash through my mind. It was similar set up, except I repaid the favour tenfold. We were both very satisfied and clean that day.
"Turn around" Ranger orders gruffly.
I do as I am told and when I finally look at him, Ranger watches me with his blank face in place. Instead of fixating my gaze on the wall behind him or the ceiling, I make the mistake casting my eyes towards the floor, only to discover midway that his clenched jaw isn't the only indication that he is affected by the situation we are in. While he is still wearing his boxers, I can clearly see the outline of his hard dick..
I quickly avert my eyes to the floor and without saying another word, he washes the fronts of my arms, armpits and collarbones, before he lets his hands glide down to my boobs. My nipples are already erect, but as soon as his hands come down and over them, they become painful. I am painting right now and may or may not lean into his touch a little more. Much to my disappointment he doesn't linger, instead he gently washes my stomach and sides, before he freezes. When I look up, his gaze is on me, asking for permission. I just nod silently.
Ranger swallows a couple of times, before letting his hand travel between my legs. His gaze holds mine and this time he does linger a little. I cannot help but let out a moan, which seems to snap him out of the moment, because his hands continue their path down the front of my legs.
"You are all done" He tells me gruffly, while running his hands under the water.
"Thank you."
I watch him get out of the shower and dry himself off, before I step back under the spray of water to rinse off. I close my eyes and just enjoy the hot water relaxing my muscles. What I wouldn't give for a hot bath right now. As soon as the water starts running cold, I turn it off and when I step out of the shower, I find Ranger there waiting with a towel in hand.
I try to take it off him, but he just shakes his head. "Let me." And I do. He carefully pats at my injuries, before rubbing the rest of my body down. By the time he is done, my breath is all choppy and my heart is beating a mile a minute. He ends up wrapping me into the fluffy hotel towel and tugging the lapel in to secure it over my breasts.
"Do you have anything to sleep in that is not tight?"
I mentally review what I have in my bag and then shake my head. "I will just sleep naked."
"I have a spare t-shirt."
"Getting that on will just be too painful...Thank you for your help, though," I add, when we are back in the bedroom.
His eyes fall briefly down to the bruise on my collarbone, before snapping back up to meet mine. "Least I can do." The anger is back in his eyes.
I cannot resist asking this time. "Are you angry with me?"
"What?"
"Are you angry with me?" I repeat. "Every time you look at me, your eyes narrow ever so slightly, the colour of them changes to almost black and your jaw clenches. I know you well enough to recognize that those are your angry ticks."
"I am not angry at you."
"Then why are you angry?"
"Myself."
"Why?"
"Stephanie, are you seriously asking me right now why I am angry at myself?" Then he honest to god snorts. "You must have hit your head harder than the Doc thought." When I don't say anything he adds "I am to blame for all of that" my injuries "and I shouldn't get off scot free. I should be in jail right now."
"No, you shouldn't be."
"Jesus...you are not that stupid!" Ranger exclaims. "I nearly killed you. I had my hand around your throat and judging by how bad those marks are, I was squeezing too. You could have DIED" he shouts the last word. "For fucks sake...So yeah, I am angry."
"You don't really remember anything, do you?" I ask carefully.
"No."
"I saw it on your face…" I try to find the right words. "Last night, that wasn't you...your mind played tricks on you. I don't blame you for that. If anything you should be blaming me. I tried to wake you, which I really should have thought through first...and on top of that I had this stupid idea of driving you to rehab."
"You looking the way you do right now, is the only reason I am going" He admits. "This shouldn't have happened and I will try Rehab, but you need to realize that you and I will never, ever happen again. You cannot save me, Stephanie. No one can."
And with that parting shot, he leaves the room and closes the door once more. Only it feels like he is also shutting the door on us.
Ranger's POV
Carefully, I open the connecting door a few hours after our fight. Steph is lying on her back, snoring softly, with the TV still running. Silently, I walk over to the bed, grab the remote and turn the TV off, plunging the room into almost darkness, if it wasn't for the little bit of moonlight coming in through the gap of the curtains.
Even with only a hint of light in the room, I can make out the bump on her head, the split in her lip and the bruises on her throat and collarbone clear as day. But then again, I wouldn't need light to be able to describe and recount every single one of her injuries. I could do that with my eyes closed. They are burned onto my retinas forever.
I clench my jaw and once again suppress the urge to smash something. I did this to her. I nearly killed her. I could have killed her for fuck sake. Every time I think of the fact that I had my gun on me when she picked me up, I want to throw up. If Babe hadn't had the foresight to take away my gun, I could now be burying her six feet under instead of watching her sleep.
I lace my fingers with hers, relishing the feeling of her soft hands in my callous ones. I love her with every fibre of my being, that is why I told her we couldn't happen again. "You deserve so much more." I whisper.
I sit there on her bed, with our fingers entwined till the sun starts appearing on the horizon. Only then I go back to my own room.
