When I'd fallen asleep on the plane, I'd planned to wake up in Jersey. Where I actually woke up was hell.
I woke with a start as the plane touched down on the runway at Trenton Mercer Airport. I immediately realized something was very wrong. My head as throbbing, I was dripping in sweat, and I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. My entire body ached, and my stomach cramped.
"Ximena, I need you," I heard Ranger say as I dug my fingernails into my scalp, silently screaming.
"Stephanie," I heard Ximena say, her tone firm. "I need you to listen to me. I want to put a Clonidine patch on you to help ease your withdrawal symptoms. Is that okay with you?"
I frantically nodded.
"Make it stop," I moaned.
"I'll do my best."
Ximena stepped away but returned quickly. She tugged the collar of my shirt aside and placed a small adhesive patch on my chest. Ranger stroked my hair as she worked.
"It's going to take a little while to get into your system. I'm sorry," she said. "I'd offer you Tylenol, but you're not due for another dose yet."
She applied a cool cloth to the back of my neck and helped me sip some water from a bottle, which I promptly threw up all over myself.
"Sorry," I moaned, wiping my mouth on my sleeve.
"You have nothing to apologize for," said Ximena. "Let's get you out of that shirt."
She tugged the trashed shirt over my head and cleaned me up as best she could, leaving me clad in leggings and a sports bra. I didn't mind—my body was on fire.
"I can't do much more for you here. We need to get you back to Rangeman so I can get my hands on more supplies," Ximena admitted.
Lester and Joe busied themselves packing bags off the plane as Ranger and Ximena got me to my feet and eased me off the plane. Two SUVs idled nearby, and I was hustled toward them. Halfway there, my shaking legs gave out, and Ranger scooped me up like a rag doll.
Tank opened the door to the Suburban, and Ranger slid me onto the back seat.
"Damn, Bomber, you look like hell," he said as Ranger settled me in.
"That's not helping," Ranger growled at Tank, his voice low and angry.
"Sorry boss," Tank apologized, climbing into the driver's seat.
"I've been better," I admitted to Tank. "But you look like sunshine and roses, so at least there's some good news."
Tank glanced over his shoulder at me and winked. I might have smiled if I didn't feel like I was dying.
Ximena climbed into the third-row seat, and Ranger climbed in next to me.
"Wait!" I heard Joe call. He hustled over to the SUV and wrenched my door open.
"Take care of yourself," he said to me, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll drop by to see you tomorrow."
"Thanks Joe," I said softly, extending my hand to him. He squeezed my hand in his, then shut the SUV door. He tapped twice on the side of the SUV, and Tank drove away, leaving Joe and Lester with Hal.
"What happened to her?" Tank softly asked Ranger.
"Too much," Ranger replied, the line of his mouth tight.
Tank sped through Trenton, weaving in and out of traffic. The motion of the vehicle made me sick, causing me to heave, but I had nothing in my stomach to lose. Ranger rubbed my back as I gagged, and Ximena peered over the seat, watching me with a worried expression.
We made a fast stop at a pharmacy, and Ximena ran in, exiting with two large bags in hand. Once she'd closed the door, Tank stomped on the gas, peeling out of the lot.
"Okay Steph," Ximena said, digging through the bags. "I want to give you an injection of Ativan. It will help relax you, and it should help you sleep through some of this."
"I don't want drugs," I moaned, holding my head in my hands.
"Steph, for your safety and the safety of the baby, it's important this detox is as gentle as possible," Ximena warned.
"Baby?" Tank asked, his voice higher than usual.
"Not a word. I expect you to protect her privacy," Ranger warned Tank.
"Of course."
Ximena hovered over the back seat, syringe in hand. I sighed in resigned defeat.
"Steph, I'm going to inject this in your arm, okay?"
I nodded my understanding, and she pierced my arm with the needle. I gritted my teeth, remembering the heroin injections I'd endured. I wanted to cry out, but I held it in, my body tense with anxiety.
It's just Ximena, I reminded myself. She's trying to help.
Ximena pushed the medication into my vein, and a calm washed over me slowly. My breathing decelerated and my heart stopped racing. Though my head still ached, the throbbing eased.
"Thank god," I breathed, relaxing into Ranger.
Tank parked in the underground garage. Ranger eased me onto the seat and climbed out of the SUV.
"Let me get her," I heard Tank say. "You look beat, bud."
A few seconds later, I was lifted into Tank's arms and held tightly against his massive frame.
"Let's get her upstairs," Ranger said.
I fought sleep as we rode the elevator, and I felt palpable relief when we crossed the threshold to the apartment. I knew the Rangeman building was nearly as secure as the White House, and I longed to lock out the evil that lay beyond the Rangeman walls.
Tank gently placed me in the bed, and I stretched out, feeling the incredible bajillion thread count sheets with my palms.
"Mmmm…" I moaned with pleasure. "I was afraid I'd never be here again."
I looked up at Tank, who was staring down at me like I had corn growing out of my head.
"Dismissed," Ranger said to Tank.
"Thanks, Tankey Poo," I said, closing my eyes.
"She's toast," Tank said as I heard him walk from the room.
"Are you more comfortable?" Ximena asked.
I opened my eyes and stared up at her, and she swam into view.
"Mmmm."
"Do you want a shower?" she asked. "Either Carlos or I can help you."
"No," I moaned, curling into a fetal position.
"She's pretty out of it," I heard Ximena say. "We should let her sleep."
Ranger said something I couldn't understand in response.
"I'll get IV fluids set up," Ximena said. "She hasn't been able to keep down fluids."
I listened to their low conversation and, before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.
I slept a long time. When I finally did wake, mother nature was calling. Ranger was sitting on the mattress with his back against the headboard, quietly reading on his tablet. Ximena was asleep in a chair that had been brought into the room. It was dark outside, with street lights dimly glowing in the distance.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I was surprised to find that I felt decent. I wouldn't have gone so far to say 'good,' but compared to before, decent was an improvement.
"How are you feeling?" Ranger asked.
"Better than earlier," I said, stretching my back. I got to my feet to go to the bathroom and realized I was attached to an IV bag hanging on the headboard.
"Help," I whined. "Bathroom emergency."
Ranger gave a humorless half-smile, unclipping the bag and handing it to me.
I took three steps toward the bathroom and realized Ranger was following me. I turned to face him.
"Stay," I said, extending my hand like I did to Bob.
He raised an eyebrow at me, but he did as he'd been asked.
I did my business, then busied myself washing my hands. When I looked in the mirror, I froze.
I looked awful. How had I not noticed this before?
My face was bruised and swollen. I touched it gently, cringing as I recalled getting hit with the gun. My eyes were bloodshot, and I had a broken blood vessel in one eye. Dark shadows made my eyes appear hollow and empty. My face was scratched, and upon further examination, I realized my arms and torso were, too. I vaguely remembered the strange, endless itching sensation from the drugs, realizing I'd likely done it to myself. I had track marks on my arms and neck, and I had finger-print bruises on my hips. My hair was total fright-night.
All of these things were unpleasant reminders of events I didn't want to remember. I took a bath towel and hung it over the bathroom mirror, blocking my reflection. I grabbed my bag of fluids and wandered back into the bedroom.
Ximena was awake, and Ranger had disappeared. I climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over my legs.
"Has he slept?" I asked Ximena.
"Nope," she sighed. "He's too busy worrying. How do you feel?"
"Alive," I said. "Tired."
"That's to be expected," she said. "It's going to take time to rest up and get that garbage out of your system. Do you want to shower yet?"
"No," I said.
"It might make you feel better," she argued.
"I'm fine. Really."
Ranger entered the bedroom carrying a bowl and a glass. He set the glass on the bedside table, and I peered into it. Some type of fruit juice. He extended the bowl to me.
"Ella made soup, but she'll make anything you want if this doesn't sound good," he said.
"That's really nice of her. I'm not really hungry, though."
"Babe, you've got to eat."
"He's right," said Ximena. "When did you eat last?"
I thought about it, and I didn't know. I shrugged, indifferent.
"Your body needs nutrition to heal. To live," Ximena said. "And the life you're growing needs nutrition to survive."
I cringed when she mentioned the pregnancy. I'd nearly forgotten. Ranger noticed my reaction, and his poker-face slid firmly into place.
"Can we have a minute?" he asked, turning to Ximena.
"Of course," she said. "If it's cool with you, I'll crash on the couch tonight so I'm nearby."
Ranger nodded his approval, and she left. He set the bowl on the nightstand and stood, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as he gathered his thoughts. Eventually, he sat on the edge of the bed.
"I love you," he began. "Nothing that happened changed that. You are my priority. I hope you know that."
"I love you too," I said nervously, dreading this conversation.
"I know you. I know you don't want to talk about this," he said, running his hand nervously over his hair. "If I'm being honest, I'm not sure what the right thing is to say—to do. I'm sorry I put you in this position. I should have taken better precautions."
"You don't have to apologize," I argued. "We're both responsible."
Ranger's eyes were dark as he studied my face. His body betrayed his exhaustion.
"Why don't we get some sleep?" I asked. "This conversation can wait until you've slept."
"No," he said. "I need to…"
He trailed off, lost in thought again. He sighed.
"I have no expectation for you to carry this child," he admitted honestly. "We didn't plan for this to happen, and given the circumstances, I can't testify to the wisdom of bringing this child into the world. I hope you don't think I'm heartless. But I need you to know this is your decision to make, and I will support you whatever you decide—financially, emotionally, physically. It's your body. This is your choice. Take all the time you need."
He gently placed his hand on my abdomen, and his eyes were exceptionally sad.
I extended my arms to him, and he fell into them, defeated. To my surprise, a great sob escaped his chest as his tough exterior cracked. He was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally—just like me.
I rubbed circles on his back and buried my nose in his hair, breathing in his scent. I wanted to cry too, but I was too drained.
"Its going to be okay," I softly repeated over and over again.
Eventually, Ranger pulled himself together and steeled himself, putting back on his tough-guy exterior.
"You need to eat," he said, redirecting his attention to the long-forgotten food. Ranger was a master of control, and he could control the food situation.
"Let's make a deal," I said. "I will eat if you'll get some sleep after."
Ranger thought about the deal.
"I'll take your bedtime and raise you a shower," he said, looking like he was thinking about smiling.
"Me? Shower?" I asked skeptically.
He nodded. "I know you'll feel better."
I sighed and rolled my eyes, agreeing with the deal. I had no desire to deal with a shower, but if it meant Ranger would close his damn eyes, I'd do it.
Ranger seemed pleased as he spooned up some of the soup and held it to my mouth. I took the lukewarm concoction in my mouth and swallowed it obediently. He repeated the process until all the soup was gone, then I drank the juice he'd brought. He left with the dirty dishes and returned with Ximena.
"Let me unhook you," she said, gesturing to my nearly empty bag of fluids.
She removed the tape and needle from my arm, then taped a cotton ball to the place it had been. She peeled the medicinal patch off my chest, too.
"Do you need a hand?" she asked, gesturing to the bathroom.
"I'm fine," I said.
She left, and Ranger closed the bedroom door behind her. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, allowing the water to warm. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he crossed the room to me and took my hands into his, pulling me from the bed into a standing position. His hands traveled to my sides, hovering over the elastic of my sports bra. His eyes asked an unspoken question, and I nodded my permission. He gently pulled the garment from my body. I stared uncomfortably at the floor as he repeated the process with my leggings and underwear.
"Babe," he breathed as his fingers skimmed my hip, where bruising was prominent against my fair skin.
He placed his finger beneath my chin and tilted my face so my eyes met his.
"This shouldn't have happened. I'm so sorry."
"I know," I whispered, my heart racing.
He took my hand and led me into the bathroom, holding the glass enclosure door as I walked into the shower.
I stepped into the hot water and closed my eyes as it cascaded over my body. I knew I needed to clean up, but I simply stood, letting the hot water run. I was startled when a hand touched my shoulder. I yelped, jumping away.
Ranger stood in his t-shirt and boxers, a washcloth in hand.
"I'm sorry I startled you," he apologized, looking uncertain. "I swear I don't want anything..."
I held my hand to my chest, trying to get my pounding heart and breathing under control.
You're fine, Stephanie, I told myself. You've taken dozens of showers with him in the past. You know he won't hurt you.
I turned, placing my palms on the shower wall. I gritted my teeth.
"Ok," I choked, my body trembling with anxiety. "Do it."
I smelled Ranger's Bulgari shower gel, and moments later, he gently ran the cloth over my back.
"Babe, you're shaking," he said, his voice laced with worry.
"It's fine," I said, my voice quavering. "I'm fine. Let's get this done."
Ranger was slow and deliberate with his movements as he delicately washed the curves of my body. When he'd finished, he adjusted the stream of the water so it cascaded over my back, rinsing away the soap. He massaged shampoo into my scalp, then rinsed it, replacing it with conditioner.
Don't be fearful, I coached myself. You love him.
I turned to face Ranger and placed my forearms on his biceps, my hands dangling at his shoulders. He studied my face as I studied his, a silent awkwardness sitting between us.
"May I?" he asked, hovering his hands at my hips.
"Yes," I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He softly placed his hands on my hips, and I drew him in close to me. He stiffened nervously as our bodies touched, releasing me instantly.
"Sorry," I apologized, stepping back.
"No, I'm sorry," he said, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean… I'm only human… I…"
I cocked my head, not having a clue what he was muttering about.
"What?"
"I'm sorry about…" he trailed off, then gestured to his crotch. He adjusted himself.
I relaxed a bit, and stifled a small laugh.
He raised an eyebrow at me.
"You have a stiffie?" I asked, amused.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't want you to feel like…"
I cut him off.
"Honestly, I'm kind of relieved," I admitted. "I was afraid I was damaged goods now. That you wouldn't want me… that way."
He pulled me close again, the water cascading over us. His brows were furrowed, the dark circles under his eyes betraying his exhaustion.
"I'd have to be dead not to want you," he said softly. "But I'm in no hurry. I'll still be here when you're ready."
"Promise?" I asked nervously.
He bent, his lips brushing a soft kiss on my collarbone. He touched his forehead to mine.
"Babe."