I settled onto the couch wrapped in one of Ranger's sweatshirts. Ximena was wearing a headset and was working fervently on her laptop.

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling edgy.

"They just parked near the house," she said, placing a finger on her headset and straining to hear.

"Who's there?" I asked.

"Ranger and Tank, which you know. Plus Ramon, Hector, Cal, Ram, Hal, Bobby, Morelli. They've got the place surrounded and are setting up surveillance."

"Morelli is there?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah."

If my nerves weren't shot before, they were now.

"Do they know if anyone is in the house?"

"Thermal imaging shows there are at least eight people in the house. No way of knowing who they are at this point."

"Eight?" I said, my tone disbelieving

Ximena shrugged.

"Could be women. Could be the help. Hell, none of them may be Fitch. It's a waiting game at this point."

I nervously picked at my fingernails as I waited for more information.

"Unmarked cops just pulled up," Ximena announced, studying her laptop screen. "They're the backup. FBI is two minutes out."

"This is taking too long," I said. "I don't like it. They're going to realize something's up."

Elena emerged from the bedroom with soggy hair wearing a pair of my navy-blue leggings and a pink v-neck girly t-shirt. With her baggy sweatshirt gone, a small bump was visible under her shirt.

"Feel better?" I asked.

"Cleaner, anyway," she said. "I feel like shit though."

"What's up?" Ximena asked, going into medical mode.

"My head is pounding," she said, rubbing her temples.

"When did you have your last hit?" Ximena asked, reading something on her computer.

"Maybe six hours ago," she admitted.

"Withdrawal symptoms," Ximena said. "Your body is craving more drugs. Can I get you a few things to take the edge off?"

"Please," she said collapsing onto the couch next to me.

Elena put her feet up, and Ximena scurried off to the foyer to get her medical pack.

"She's great," I said about Ximena. "She'll pull you through this."

Elena furrowed her brow.

"I can't imagine she knows much about this particular situation," she said, placing a hand protectively on her abdomen.

I gave a humorless laugh.

"Want to bet?"

Ximena returned with her bag and began working with Elena. As she worked, I told her everything, starting with my hunt for Dickie when he went FTA. Her eyes grew wide when she learned I, too, was pregnant. When I finished speaking, we sat in silence as Ximena took her place back in the chair.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Elena said. "Truly. If I could have stopped them, I would have."

"It's not your fault," I said, willing myself to believe it.

I glanced to look at Ximena, and I realized she'd turned pale. I sat up on the edge of the couch, my attention shifting.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Shots fired," she said softly.

"Oh god," I moaned, rubbing my eyes. "Was anyone hit?"

"I don't know," said Ximena. "They just called for medical. FBI is on scene, too."

Elena laid back on the couch, closing her eyes and doing some deep breathing. I got up and began to pace, my nervous energy too great to sit any longer.

"They've gotta stop that asshole," Elena muttered.

"More shots," Ximena said, gritting her teeth. "So far, they've pulled four women out of the house."

I breathed a sigh of relief, and Elena crossed herself silently.

I paced over to tap on Rex's glass aquarium. I'd hoped for a distraction, but he poked his nose out of his soup can and wiggled his whiskers at me before swiftly disappearing back into the can. Moments of silence passed as Ximena waited for more information. It felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

"Sounds like Rhoads and Fitch are leaving in body bags, Steph," Ximena announced, a look of satisfaction crossing her face. "Two more women out safely. It's over."

Avalos released a palpable sigh of relief from the couch, and I knew I should do the same. However, I could still feel anxiety coursing through my body.

"Is everyone alright?" I asked nervously.

"One of the FBI guys was shot. All Rangemen are safe and accounted for."

I stood in what could only be described as a state of shock. I didn't know what to feel. I simply nodded. It didn't feel real.

"The nightmare is over, Steph," said Ximena, shutting down her laptop and packing it into her backpack.

I waited in silence as Ximena busied herself chatting with Avalos, making sure she was comfortable and inquiring if she wished to stay the night. Unsure what to do with myself, I went into the bedroom and climbed into bed, feeling numb.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I pulled it out to check the readout. It was a text from Morelli.

"We got the bastard. You're safe. It's over."

Feeling both exhausted and relieved, I broke into a fit of silent sobs.

I woke with a start in a dark room with a throbbing headache. It took a moment to orient myself, recalling the events of the evening. I felt the bed next to me, finding it empty. I dragged myself to my feet, used the bathroom, them crept out of the bedroom filled with unexplained heaviness. Avalos was asleep on the couch covered with a blanket. Ximena was gone, and Ranger was nowhere to be found. I checked my phone, finding no messages from him. I felt myself frown, but I tried to push it away. He was busy. He'd be home soon, right?

I went to the kitchen and turned on the small light over the sink, illuminating the space. I selected a water from the refrigerator and sipped it slowly. I noticed a small Dixie cup with a post-it note stuck next to it that said, "Steph's evening meds." I obediently took them, then threw the cup and post it in the garbage.

I stood staring at nothing in particular, my eyes wandering around the kitchen searching for something. Anything. Part of me felt relieved that the nightmare was over, but it still felt unreal. My life was inexplicably ungrounded, with no job or priorities tethering me. Somehow, my world had come to revolve around Ranger alone, and that was unsettling. I felt adrift, a forgotten dingy that had come loose from its moor by the sea with Ranger gone.

Feeling unsatisfied, I shut off the light in the kitchen and quietly stuffed my arms into a hoodie. I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder, stuffed my phone into it, and quietly departed so as not to wake Avalos.

I opted for the stairs, descending two flights before exiting into the fifth-floor hallway. The floor was quiet as I shuffled through. I went to Ranger's office, but it was dark and empty. Tank's was the same. I checked the small kitchenette, finding Ram eating a sandwich. He greeted me with a friendly, "Hello." I gave him a finger wave, then departed. I peered into the control room and saw two guys I didn't know very well. I gave them a small nod, and they did the same.

"Can you tell me where Ranger is?" I asked.

"In the wind," one guy croaked, looking annoyed.

It was impossible to contain the disappointment on my face. I thanked the guy and left.

I took the elevator to the parking garage and climbed into my Camry, unsure where to go or what to do. Ranger hadn't felt the need to tell me he was leaving to find Fitch. He hadn't seen the need to communicate with me afterward. Hours had passed. As I sat stewing, I could feel a spark of frustration light in myself, anger beginning to simmer. Once more, I'd been made to feel like an unequal partner, and it was irritating.

I pulled out of the parking garage and drove through the city, eventually reaching a 7-Eleven. I bought three packages of Butterscotch Krimpits, two packages of Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes, and a can of Coke, then returned to the car. I began driving nowhere in particular, working my way through the pile of sweets as I traveled aimlessly through Trenton. I eventually parked the car, realizing I'd unconsciously worked my way back to my old apartment building.

The entire building was surrounded by dumpsters, pod storage containers, and construction equipment. A windowless brick shell was all that remained of my once home. I sighed, then pulled out my phone, and called Ranger. The call went straight to voicemail.

I sighed and sent Lula a text.

"You awake?"

I waited for a reply, but one never came. The clock on the dash read 1:29 AM, so I figured it was unlikely anybody was awake at this time, Lula included. I studied the building as I finished off the last Krimpet, then left the lot feeling more unsettled.

I drove around more, eventually finding myself parked on the street in front of my parents' house. The house was dark, but I went to the front door anyway. I sat on the stoop staring out to the street, fidgeting with my phone.

As I sat, I let my mind wander to Ranger. Where was he at this hour? Why didn't he feel the need to communicate with me? In his usual headstrong way, he'd flown into action without talking to me first. Was this going to be the way of things in our marriage, too? I didn't like the feelings these thoughts brought, so I tried to shove them down.

I noticed headlights and saw an SUV slowly traveling down the street. I felt my chest contract nervously, expecting Ranger to drive up. However, as the vehicle parked behind my Camry, I realized it wasn't Ranger. The passenger side window rolled down, and the voice carried over to me.

"You alright?" Morelli asked, looking concerned. "The control room called me and said yuh… you were in the neighborhood."

I nodded.

"I'm good," I said, not really buying my own words.

His expression briefly changed to a scowl before turning off the engine and climbing out of the SUV. He was wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his feet shoved into a pair of Birkenstock brown leather sandals.

"You don't look it," he said as he ambled around the SUV, his gait clumsier than I'd seen in a while.

"Why do you say that?" I said, my tone accusing.

"Well for starters, you're sitting in the rain," he said.

I did a quick assessment of the situation and realized he was right. It was sprinkling, and I hadn't even noticed when it began. My clothes and hair were wet, my legs covered in goosebumps.

Morelli extended his hand to me, and I took it. He pulled me to my feet and hustled me to his SUV, helping me into the passenger seat. He circled the vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat, turning over the engine. With a few flicks of his finger, he had turned the heat onto high blast.

"You trying to d… d... die of pneumonia?" Morelli asked, his tone accusatory.

I shook my head no, studying him.

Morelli scowled.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You stuttered," I said cautiously.

He nodded. "The meds wuh… wear off around bedtime. They make it hard to sleep if I take another d… dose."

I nodded my understanding, but felt my mind wandering.

"Earth to Steph?" Joe asked, staring at me like I was growing corn out of my ears.

He was staring at me.

"You're muttering to yourself."

"I am?" I said, genuinely surprised. I hadn't realized I was doing it.

"Let me t… t… take you home," he said, reaching across me and grasping the seatbelt. He clicked the buckle into place, then did the same for his. He put the SUV into drive.

"I don't want to," I said, feeling numb.

Morelli raised an eyebrow.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked cautiously, putting the SUV back into park.

I shrugged, unsure what I was feeling besides numb

"Sorry, its none of my business," he said. "Where to?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Your options are limited at this hour," he admitted.

I shrugged again.

"If you're not going home, you can cra… crash on my couch or in my guest room. Or I can get a room for you somewhere."

"Wherever," I said, shivering.

Morelli expelled a frustrated sigh and pushed the gearshift into drive again. I felt the car begin to move, and I closed my eyes, leaning my head back into the headrest. I allowed my mind to wander, allowing the numbness and anxiety to consume me.

I realized we were parked in Morelli's driveway when he wrenched my door open and stared in at me.

"Do you need a doctor?" he asked. "You seem… off."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing out of the car.

Morelli hustled me in the house and left me standing dripping in the foyer while Bob did the happy dog dance around my feet. I gave Bob a half-hearted scratch while Morelli took the stairs two at a time, returning with one of his t-shirts and a pair of plaid, drawstring pajama pants.

"Best I can do, but you can't stay in these wet clothes," he said, setting the clothes on the small entry table.

He excused himself, and I shucked my wet clothes and dressed in his dry ones. I padded barefoot into the living room and sat cross-legged on the couch, wrapping myself in a blanket. I sat silently, listening to Morelli move around the kitchen. A tea kettle whistled.

"Drink this," he said, walking into the room with a mug in hand.

I raised an eyebrow and peered into the mug he'd extended to me.

"Impressive," I said. "Domestic."

I took the mug, and the heat in my hands sent a shiver down my spine.

"Don't go assigning labels like that, Cupcake," he said, flopping into a chair. "It's Swiss Miss. It was that or coffee."

I gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

I studied him as I swirled the chocolate drink around in my mouth. He looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry they woke you," I admitted. "I really am fine."

"I know when you're lying," Morelli said, sitting forward in his seat. "You're physically present, but your mind is somewhere else completely."

A few beats passed before I gave a small nod.

"Everything feels like a bad dream," I admitted. "But I don't wake up."

"You seeing anybody?" Morelli asked. "Like a therapist, I mean."

I shrugged. "No. I'm fine."

"Maybe you should consider it, Cupcake. You've been through a l… lot. Pretending it didn't happen isn't healthy."

I felt a tear slide down my cheek, but my exterior somehow remained emotionless despite the shattering feeling I'd been experiencing inside. I desperately longed to feel like myself again—an independent, badass, sassy bounty hunter. Sometimes awkward, sometimes funny, sometimes sexy. I realized I'd begun to resent the damaged, attached, pregnant woman with 'issues' I'd become.

I stared at Morelli, studying him. He was still dashingly handsome, but recent events had changed him. He looked older, a few rogue gray hairs sprouting at his temples and lines etching his masculine face. His five o'clock shadow was lighter than it had previously been, his once dark facial hair fading with age. I knew my reflection had changed recently too, worry lines becoming seemingly permanent impressions on my face and dark circles residing beneath my eyes. My brain began to conjure an image of Ranger, but I mentally pushed it away in frustration.

I drained the mug and set it on the coffee table, my eyes still locked on Morelli. I felt my chest constrict, and I nervously curled my fingers into the blanket. Being here with him felt comfortable, but my heart was racing.

Morelli shifted uncomfortably under my intense gaze.

"We should get some sleep," he said hesitantly. "Whatever you're feeling will look different in the morning light."

I swallowed hard and gave a weak nod. I knew he was right. I couldn't even pinpoint the emotions I was feeling. I was numb with emotional overwhelm.

He stood, and I did the same. We stood staring awkwardly at one another.

"Do you want couch or guest room?" Morelli asked.

"Guest room would be great," I said quietly, crossing my arms over my chest.

He ushered me to the stairs, turning out the lights behind us. We ascended the stairs, and he turned on the guest room light. The room was cluttered but the bedding was clean.

"Sorry," he said apologetically.

"It's fine," I said, turning down the covers.

"I've got spare t… t…" he stammered. "Damn!"

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then tried again.

"T… T…. toothbrushes. Spares, if you want one," he choked out, seemingly frustrated with his speech.

"Thanks, Joe."

I followed him to the bathroom, where he pulled a new toothbrush from the vanity drawer. We stood in companionable silence as we brushed our teeth.

I began to wash my hands, and Joe turned to leave. He turned back and lay a hand on my shoulder.

"Night, Stephanie."

I released a shaky breath, looking at him through the mirror.

"Night," I said on a whisper.

I finished washing up, used the toilet, and went to bed, crawling beneath the covers. I stared at the ceiling, studying the shadows cast by the orange streetlight through the mini blinds and gauzy valance. I tried closing my eyes, but they wouldn't stay closed. I thought about scrolling on my phone, but I'd left it in my Camry along with my messenger bag. I focused on my breathing to relax. I alternated between thoughts of Fitch, thoughts of Ranger, and thoughts of Joe. I tried to shove them all away. I counted backwards from 100 three times. I mentally shouted at myself to sleep. I lay perfectly still as my heart tried to race out of my chest. I shifted and readjusted a dozen times trying to get comfortable with no success, finally heaving an exasperated sigh.

I crept out of bed, down the hall, and stood in Joe's open doorway. I could see the shadow of his form lying in bed, the subtle rising and falling of his chest in sleep. He seemed peaceful as I crept closer, his worry lines less prominent. I gently eased myself into the bed next to him, snuggling tightly into his side. He did not stir. I placed an arm across his shirtless torso and breathed in his familiar scent. I placed a soft kiss on his shoulder and studied his face, his gravity drawing me into him. I knew I shouldn't be in his bed, but for the first time in hours, I felt almost normal. My anxiety and nervous energy melted away, leaving exhaustion in its place. My brain finally seemed to shut off.

I studied Joe for a long time, allowing myself to relax into him. The familiarity of this place—this person—simply felt right when everything else felt like a mess. He stirred enough to readjust, rolling from his back to his side. As he did, he unconsciously pulled me into him, tucking me into the safety of his arms where I fell into a dreamless sleep.

My eyes fluttered open when the first hints of daylight were peeking through the curtains. I was curled tightly into Joe, wrapped safely in his arms. His nose was snuggled into my wild hair, his breathing even. I silently watched Morelli's sleeping form, waiting for the guilt to rise in my chest. It never came. I raised my left hand and studied the delicate engagement ring on my finger, thoughts of Ranger flooding my mind. I loved him, of that I was certain. Could I stand living with him? I sighed, dropping my hand onto my hip.

Morelli stirred with my movement, his eyes fluttering slightly. Our eyes met, and recognition crossed his tired features.

"You shouldn't be here," he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted sheepishly.

"You didn't sleep at all?" he asked, raising himself onto his elbow to look at the bedside clock.

"I slept some once I came in here," I said, staying snuggled into him.

"How long have you b… b… been here?" he stammered.

"A few hours."

He groaned and rubbed his hand over his face.

"I don't have to be up for at least another hour," he said, placing his arm over his eyes.

"Go back to sleep," I said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

He peered at me through hooded eyes from beneath his arm, and I felt my body quickening under his gaze. He saw it, too.

"Steph, no. We can't do this."

"I know," I admitted sheepishly. "I can go."

"I mean, it d… doesn't mean I don't want to… But you're engaged to another man," he stammered, rolling away from me uncomfortably.

I pulled myself closer to him.

"You're pregnant with his child," he said, sounding less convinced of his resolve.

I draped a leg over his torso and pushed myself into a sitting position, straddling his hips. I ground my pelvis into him, feeling his body respond. He groaned.

"Stephanie. Please," he begged, looking desperate. "You know I can't tell you no," he said, placing his hands on my hips.

"Shh," I whispered, effectively silencing him.

I sighed, expelling the breath I'd been holding. I bent at the waist and our lips connected, fire consuming me, its flames licking across my body in a flush of sensations. Joe placed his palms on my cheeks, our lips hungrily devouring the other's.

"I've missed you," Joe panted, breaking from the kiss. "I love you."

In an instant, he had rolled me onto my back and pushed my borrowed t-shirt up to my shoulders, his mouth tracing pleasurable trails across my chest. I cried out, my breasts unusually tender with pregnancy, my body a flurry of sensations. Joe's familiarity was comfortable, the playful certainty of his bedside manner both sexy and inviting. A little voice in the back of my mind was screaming Ranger's name, but I quashed it with another of Joe's intoxicating kisses. Ranger's emotional absence and lack of communication stood in stark contrast to Morelli's warm and playful demeanor. I knew in the back of my mind this wasn't forever, but it felt like enough for right now. It could fill the loneliness I felt. And today, that was going to be enough.

Joe and I spent hours in bed, slowly reacquainting ourselves with one another. While the feel of our bodies together was familiar and comfortable, it also felt new and exciting in a way I'd never experienced with Morelli. By nine o'clock, my body and mind were exhausted but the awkward, unexplained hole in my chest from the day before felt temporarily full. I felt almost whole. Despite his lack of sleep, Morelli seemed energetic and ready to get on with his day.

"I should have been at work an hour ago," Morelli admitted, rising from the bed.

I studied his naked form and smiled. Some things never changed, and Joe was as fine as ever in spite of his visible, ragged scars.

"I can't believe you're going to leave," I sighed. "Stay here with me."

"I'm going to be unemployed when your fiancé figures out what happened here," he said begrudgingly, his face betraying concern. "I have to go."

"He may not find out," I said nonchalantly.

Joe gave me a disbelieving look.

"Yeah. Right. So you're going to leave here like nothing ever happened?" Joe asked, his tone accusing.

"I never said that," I argued, propping myself on an elbow. "This did happen."

"So he's not going to find out, but we can keep doing—whatever this is?" he asked, his tone annoyed. A red scald began to creep up his neck, and his face betrayed his hurt. "Makes perfect sense."

"I didn't say that either," I said cautiously. "I don't know what I want," I admitted.

Joe gave a humorless laugh.

"You've never known what you wanted, Stephanie. We're right back where we started, and you'll leave me again."

Joe crossed to the bathroom and slammed the door. The sound of the shower filled the silence.

I lay in the bed, my heart racing with emotional whiplash. The guilt and regret I'd expected to feel earlier began to wash over me. I got out of bed and stood staring at myself in the dresser mirror. I looked a wreck, my hair wild and my face betraying exhaustion. As my eyes traveled down my body, I recognized a small swell in my stomach that I hadn't noticed there before. I placed my palms over the pale flesh, and more waves of guilt struck.

I ripped the sheet off the bed and wrapped myself in it. My feet carried me down the stairs and to the foyer, where my clothes from the night before lay abandoned on the tile floor. I tugged on my cold, damp shorts, then did the same with my shirt and hoodie. I shoved my feet in my shoes, grabbed my keys from the table, and wrenched open the front door.

Ranger's Porsche 911 Turbo was parked at the curb in front of the house. Ranger was leaning against the passenger door, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look up, simply standing in stoic silence in his black t-shirt and cargo pants.

I stood frozen on the stoop, my heart in my throat. The guilt I'd felt in the house compounded ten-fold as I watched him standing motionless. How long had he been here?

I slowly descended the stairs toward him, my legs feeling as though they were filled with concrete. I crossed the distance and stood in front of him, staring at my feet.

"You ready?" he asked, finally looking at me.

I swallowed hard, feeling his gaze on me. My eyes met his, and I saw a myriad of feelings there—sadness, anger, hurt, disappointment, grief, loss. In that moment, it was if my heart had shattered in my chest.

Ranger stood and opened the passenger side door, motioning for me to get into the vehicle. I did so obediently, finding my messenger bag on the floorboard.

"Ximena drove your Camry home," he said, his voice flat. "She left your morning pills in the console."

As promised, the pills were in a small Dixie cup in one cup holder. An unopened bottle of water was in the second. I wordlessly and obediently took the pills, then put my head in my hands. I heard my door slam, then heard the driver's door open moments later.

"Steph?"

I heard Joe's voice. I looked out the window, seeing him standing on the stairs with a towel wrapped around his waist. Rivulets of water ran down his chest and shoulders, betraying his abrupt departure from his shower. He looked as surprised to see Ranger as I had been.

"Morelli," Ranger said, his voice cold and hard.

"Manoso," Joe responded, giving a small nod in acknowledgment.

"You're fired," Ranger barked.

"No!" I cried at Ranger. "It's not his fault. Don't..."

Ranger glared into the Porsche, his look cold enough to freeze water. I swallowed hard, hot tears threatening to spill.

Joe stood looking shell-shocked as Ranger slid into the driver's seat, rolled the engine over, and sped away as I watched Morelli disappear into the distance behind us.