Wow, double-digit chapters! I didn't know I had so much to say…
Thank you for your awesome feedback, I couldn't do this without you!
Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin
Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot
Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new
Out of my Mind
Chapter 10
"Word is, some people think you offed Moreno." Ranger said.
Huh, that was news.
Who would come up with that? I certainly didn't think that I gave off the impression I could kill a puppy, let alone a human being. Although maybe I could kill a man easier than a puppy.
Probably, Ranger was just trying to get a reaction. Feel the waters, so to say.
He couldn't be serious, I decided, and I told him so.
"You think I'm making this up?" He asked.
He dwarfed the chair. All lean and hard muscle, he looked like he'd own any room he'd step into. And he could snap me like a twig, if he had a mind to. I certainly hoped that thought hadn't occurred to him, but if I kept on annoying him it might.
He was still wearing the outfit I saw him in earlier, or one exactly like it, black on black, and there wasn't an imperfection anywhere, as if he had spent his day bubble-wrapped.
His eyes had narrowed slightly as he was watching me.
"Looks like your car wasn't the only thing getting roughed up."
He let his gaze travel down my body with that subject change, and I quickly sat down.
"I've been through worse." I said dismissively.
Once, when I was 5 or so, I had fallen off the back of a bike, and I had been bruised and scraped for weeks. That counted, right?
No response from Ranger, no way of knowing what he was thinking.
The silence grew uncomfortable.
"Why would anyone think I killed a guy I never even knew?"
His shoulders lifted half an inch, and the movement could be interpreted as a shrug.
"Just sharing what I heard, Babe."
I had already opened my mouth to say what I had planned, but at 'Babe', all coherent thought escaped me.
Swallowing painfully, I took a sip from my water.
He probably called all women 'Babe'. I have a friend who calls everyone 'Hon', because it saves him the trouble of remembering names.
Although Ranger didn't strike me as the type who would forget a name.
Still, in the interest of sanity, it was probably best to forget what I heard. Maybe I had just imagined it anyway.
"And what exactly did you hear?" I finally asked, mostly because it would bounce the ball back into his court and I wouldn't have to get an aneurysm trying to come up with something to say.
Ranger leaned forward slightly.
"That you should be more careful when driving a car."
Ranger humor, hilarious. Only I didn't find it too funny. Although since he hadn't even cracked an almost-smile, there was a chance he wasn't kidding.
"I told you I had nothing to do with the murder and you said you believed me."
I couldn't have stated it any more complicated with an hour's preparation.
"I do. I'm not the one who is spreading rumors about you." He said.
"Then who is?" I was getting impatient. While he was talking in full sentences now, getting any information from him was like trying to milk mice.
"The Senor." He eventually revealed, back to his 2-word limit.
"You thought I was working for him!" I exclaimed, really not liking the head games.
"I was wrong." He stated.
It was a good thing he was hot as all hell, because I didn't think he would ever be found attractive for his conversation skills.
I felt the need to throw something, preferably something that would shatter upon impact.
"I have to go." I snapped.
What I meant was that he had to go, but I would rather walk on burning coals than tell him that.
I could not have this conversation with some alcohol still buzzing in my system and the remainder of a headache humming along for the ride.
Ranger was at my side as soon as I got up, I hadn't even seen him move.
"Don't underestimate the Senor." He warned.
How could I underestimate (or overestimate, for that matter) a guy I had never heard of before 24 hours ago? I didn't know who he was! OK, a bad guy, I had gathered that much, but was he a mob boss, a serial killer, a drug dealer? People were acting like I was in on this secret and it was really starting to piss me off.
I felt the need to go all Scarlett O'Hara, blink my eyes at Ranger and ask him if he would protect me from the bad, bad man.
Probably, that would be a bad move. But the thought did lighten my mood a little.
"Then you might want to tell me who he is!" I said instead, Scarlett would have to wait.
Ranger thought about that for a moment, I believed.
We were so close now that I could feel his breath on my skin on every exhale.
"Why don't I show you."
'Show me what?' I wanted to ask, the Senor completely forgotten. When he spoke, I was just beginning to wonder if he was an even better kisser than Joe, or if they would just be different. My eyes were glued to Ranger's mouth.
He nudged my side and brought me back to reality.
I may have said "OK." But it was impossible to hear my voice over the blood rushing in my ears.
Ranger kept his hand on my side as he pushed me towards the door, and that probably meant we were going somewhere together. Had he removed his hand, I would have just stood still, dumbfounded.
We stopped just outside the door and he looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't you want to lock up?" He asked.
Oh right, the door. Why bother, it seemed like no one here had ever been deterred by a lock and deadbolt.
It took me a second to realize that Ranger was holding the key out for me.
When had he picked it up, and from where?
The last time I had seen it was when…I couldn't exactly remember how I had ended up in my room.
I took the key from Ranger, locked the door obligingly and slipped it into my pockets.
Those cargo pants were really handy, they had a gazillion pockets, and everywhere.
Speaking of pockets…
"My gun." I said, already scanning the parking lot in search of the Beetle.
"It's in my car. You should lock your car, too, especially if you leave hardware in it, Babe."
That time, I had definitely heard it.
What did it mean?
Ranger left my side and walked to his car. The black Porsche. Coolness.
He beeped it open and motioned to the passenger side.
"Get in."
Oh, OK. Simple command, I should be able to handle it.
With some effort, I willed my feet to walk, opened the door and got in beside him. I felt like I was sleepwalking.
Maybe I should ask where we were going, I wondered.
But did it matter?
Ranger reached behind me and produced my utility belt, with all my equipment that used to make me feel so cool. I couldn't think of anything that would make me feel cool in Ranger's presence.
If I wanted to put the belt on, I would have had to get out of the car, so I decided against it and just took it from him.
He buckled his seatbelt and, after a second, reached across me to pull mine out.
I gasped at his touch, slapping myself mentally for spacing out like that, but Ranger just snapped the belt home and started the car without a reaction.
Maybe I should stop breathing for a moment, I thought, maybe my heart rate would return to normal. But then maybe I'd pass out from lack of oxygen, so that wouldn't really help.
So I just focused my eyes out the windshield and tried to ignore the comfortable feeling of the leather seat under and all around me.
Ranger didn't say a word, probably in his infamous 'zone'.
The silence was fine by me for a change, since I had to concentrate on breathing evenly and not giggling nervously or, worse, screaming my head off.
I had never been to Trenton before and didn't recognize any street we were on, so I gave up trying to figure out where we were.
My motel was close to the highway, and we had followed that for a few miles, but then Ranger had taken an exit and made a few turns, so I had lost all sense of direction.
We finally turned into an underground garage, and Ranger pulled into a parking slot, killing the engine and the lights.
Holy Ted, was this the bat cave?
I looked around; to the left and right, black cars were lined up.
This was too good to be true!
I unbuckled and got out, since that was what Ranger was doing, but then I stood by the closed door, paralyzed.
Why was I so unable to move, when I usually couldn't sit still for more than a minute?
Couldn't I just conjure up some nonchalance and act normally?
I still held my belt, so I busied myself with putting it on.
Ranger beeped his car locked and stepped away to his left without looking back.
That meant I was to follow him, I concluded, so I did.
He held a heavy door open for me and we stepped into a concrete staircase, in front of us was an elevator door.
Ranger pushed an illuminated button and the elevator doors pinged open.
It looked like a service elevator, without the carpeting or nice wall paneling found in office buildings, and the silence between us continued as Ranger pushed the 5 button and we rode up.
So, not the Bat Cave then, but possibly RangeMan.
The doors opened, and I found myself facing what looked like Angelina Jolie's office in 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith': Monitors up and down walls, servers, workstations and other high-tech equipment I couldn't name.
Two men were facing the monitors. Dressed in merry men black. Both with a muscle-y bulk that tested the fabric of their t-shirts.
Neither of them turned when we arrived.
I wanted to let Ranger lead the way, but he cupped my elbow in his hand, leading me, so we were side by side.
We walked halfway into the control center-y room and then through a door to our right, which led to a kind of conference room. Only it looked more like a military briefing room, furnished with function, not comfort, in mind. Three large desks stood in a row; simple desk chairs were in front of them. Monitors were imbedded into the tabletops, and a conference phone sat in the middle.
"Sit down." Ranger said courtly and he flicked a few switches as I did what I was told.
The lights dimmed and a projection screen whirred down from the ceiling in front of us.
Ranger took the seat next to me and pulled out a keyboard that had been hidden under the tabletop.
He typed in a few commands and the screen lit up with horrible images.
Each photo lingered for about a minute, and that was about how long it took me to compute what I was seeing.
Mutilated bodies, severed limbs, disfigured women and children, pools of blood.
I felt bile rise in my throat and swallowed hard.
The slide show went on and on, never displaying the same image twice, each photo a degree worse than the one before.
I had always thought I was sort of desensitized by graphic images on TV shows and in movies, but this was pure horror, beyond the imagination of any Hollywood producer.
The screen finally went blank and we sat in complete darkness.
"Now you know."
I almost jumped at the sound of Ranger's voice.
"The…S…Senor did this?" I managed, my voice hoarse.
"Him and his posse." Ranger confirmed.
I was glad I was sitting down, I may have crumbled to the floor had I been standing up.
So a really bad guy then.
Not someone I didn't want to get to know. Hell, not even someone I wanted to know that I existed!
"Alejandro Garcia Najar. Colombian. He started out as a gun for hire, and word is he really enjoyed the kill." Ranger continued.
I didn't doubt that for a second.
"Then he expanded, both his organization and his m.o., materialized in Trenton last year."
Ranger turned the lights back on.
"And now he has me on his list." I finished for him.
"I doubt it's that serious." Ranger said, his eyes watching me carefully.
"You're not connected enough, not a risk factor. Maybe he just wants to play with you."
Was that supposed to make me feel better? I knew what it looked like when he killed, I really didn't want to imagine what it looked like when the Senor 'just' played.
"Why me?" I croaked.
Ranger did his almost-shrug again.
"Probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes that's all it takes."
"No." I said slowly, denial taking over.
"You must be wrong. What you're saying makes no sense. I'm nobody. I didn't do nothing!"
My grammar always went to hell when I was excited.
Ranger didn't interrupt my ramble, his eyes never leaving me.
It was all true though, the only possible explanation was that Ranger had the wrong girl, he couldn't have heard anything about me. I didn't even exist, for Ted's sake! I was a figment of my imagination!
And suddenly, I was just tired.
The day was catching up with me, it had panned out completely different than planned, and it had finally overwhelmed me.
I highly doubted I'd be able to sleep, but I wanted to be alone.
I got up, steadying myself on the chair.
Ranger frowned, but still didn't say anything.
"Take me home." I said, finally meeting his stare.
"What're you going to do?" He asked.
Valid question, I had no clue.
I straightened myself and put my fists on my hips.
"The way I see it, it's all hearsay. Your impression. An educated guess, maybe, but still just a guess." someone said.
Since Ranger's lips hadn't moved it must have been me.
He lifted his arm and touched the band-aid on my cheek. I brushed his hand away.
"Circumstantial evidence." I huffed.
Just quoting a line form one TV show or another.
Clearly, Ranger didn't know me. Since I had chosen to go with denial, that's what I was going to do. Until I was convinced otherwise, Alejandro Najar didn't know I was alive.
And short of dragging me, bound and gagged, into his bedroom, he didn't stand a chance of changing my mind. Maybe he could carry me unbound, with his bedroom as the final destination, I probably wouldn't put up a fight.
"So you're just going to ignore everything?" He motioned to the now empty screen.
"I think I'm going to bed now, and I'm going to sleep for a really long time. I'm going to decide what I will do when I wake up." I replied.
That actually sounded like a pretty good idea. I'd think about it tomorrow.
Ranger sighed and scratched his left cheek, probably wondering why he had cared in the first place.
I was prepared to walk or catch a cab if I had to, but I really needed to get out.
He turned, opened the door, and then momentarily left my field of vision as he stepped further into the control room.
I was trying to catch up to him, when he already was on his way back.
Handing me a cell phone he just said: "In case you change your mind."
Then he left, and when I looked up from the phone in my hand, another man in black had replaced him.
Lester? Hal maybe? It wasn't Tank, I was pretty sure.
He was about 6 feet tall, dark skinned, but not as dark or as broad as Tank or Ranger. His eyes were of the darkest brown and didn't look like they missed much.
"I'm going to take you back." He simply said and extended a leading hand towards the elevator.
I guessed that meant I wasn't going to be treated to another ride in the Porsche, and I felt somewhat rejected by Ranger's sudden disappearance, but a large part of me didn't care about anything anymore.
"What's your name?" I asked Merry Man when we were seated in a black SUV.
"Cal." He replied as he started the engine. Ah, of course.
We didn't talk at all during the drive back, and other than a polite 'Thank you.' when I got out of the car in front of my room, I didn't feel the need to speak.
Like in a trance, I unlocked my door and got into my room.
I collapsed onto the bed and closed my eyes, praying that, when I woke up, I'd be far, far away, just waking up from a bad dream.
The last thing I heard was the SUV driving away.
