Chapter 21

A warm touch on my face woke me. My eyes snapped open, but I relaxed when I saw Ranger leaning over me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Every beat of my heart felt like a hammer pounding my brain. There was hardly any light in the room, but it was still too much. I really wanted to close my eyes again but I had an irrational fear that if I did, Ranger wouldn't be there the next time I opened them. "My head hurts."

Ranger's hand was in my hair, stroking my temple. "You have a concussion."

I was lying in a bed with scratchy sheets and a paper-thin blanket pulled up to my chest. "Am I in the hospital?"

"Yes. Do you remember what happened?"

Did I? The question took some pondering before the memories came to mind. Scenes flashed before me like a View Master. "Cordero and Par de Balos…" Then I flashed on a much more important scene, and the ball of worry in my stomach made itself known. I struggled to sit up. "Tank!"

Ranger held me to the bed with a firm touch. "Tank's okay. He's in a different hospital. He'll recover."

Oh, thank God. I let myself relax back into the bed and lost the battle to keep my eyes open. "I'm so tired."

"That's okay. The doctor says that's normal. You did good, Babe. Go ahead and sleep." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead.

###

Someone's hand was playing gently with my hair, fingers running through the curls. A pleasant tingling sensation started in my scalp and spread down my spine. I opened my eyes and very nearly regretted it. The ambient light in the room may as well have been the fiery blaze of a thousand suns. But the sight of Ranger looking down at me made up for the pain.

"Hi," I told him. I think I even managed a smile.

"How do you feel?"

"Like someone took a jackhammer to my skull." The view behind Ranger was of an unfamiliar room. I was reclining in a bed and he sat in a chair beside me. One of my arms rested above the blankets, and my hand was in Ranger's. The bed was uncomfortable and had guardrails, which made me realize we were in the hospital.

"Do you remember what happened?" Ranger asked.

It was slowly but surely coming back to me. Cordero, demanding to be brought to Gabriella. My ill-fated plan of last resort that brought us into Par de Balos's line of fire. But before that… My heart clenched in my chest and I tried to sit up. "Tank! He got shot! Is he -"

Ranger squeezed my hand. "I know. He's okay. The paramedics got to him in time."

I relaxed back into the bed. That surge of panic really took it out of me, and I could barely keep my eyes open. "Cordero?" I managed to ask.

"He'll live," Ranger said. "We can talk about it later. Proud of you, Babe. Get some rest."

###

The scent of Bulgari surrounded me and assured me I was safe. How could I not be? I was nestled in thousand-thread-count sheets under a lightweight down comforter. Pretty sure I wouldn't be disappointed if I found out this was heaven. The only problem was that I had a headache.

I opened my eyes and took in the familiar view of Ranger's bedroom. I reached out an arm to feel that the bed beside me was warm, but empty. There was a sliver of light emanating from under the bathroom door and I could dimly hear the shower running. That answered that question.

The next semi-concerning question in my mind was how I'd gotten there. As soon as I turned my attention to it, the memories came flooding back. Cordero. Par de Balos. Tank.

Oh, God, Tank!

I pulled back the covers and slid my feet to the floor. The pain in my head was a consistent, dull ache. I sat at the edge of the bed and thought very hard about getting up, but that's as far as I got. And that's how Ranger found me when he emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"You'll be wanting to know that Tank is fine," he told me. "Your head hurts because you have a concussion. Cordero is alive, and he'll stay that way. I'm told that's largely thanks to you."

Something was niggling at my brain, and I thought Ranger's tone confirmed it. "You've told me this before, haven't you?"

A bit of tension released from his jawline, and he came over to sit next to me. "You've been having some short-term memory problems. Just a normal symptom of your concussion, but I'm glad it seems to be wearing off."

"Were we in the hospital?" There were bits and pieces of what may have been either memories or dreams, and I was trying hard to sort through them.

"Yes. They released you to me once your CT scans came back clear."

"Tank is really okay?"

"He's at Saint Michael's in Newark. He had a surgery to repair some bleeding, but he's out of ICU and doing well. He'll make a full recovery."

"Thank God." I sighed and buried my face in my hands.

Ranger stood abruptly and retreated into his dressing room. He emerged a minute later wearing the standard Rangeman tactical uniform. "I have an appointment with the Trenton PD. Cordero is under arrest. The police will need your statement, too, but that can wait until you're feeling better."

"I can do it now," I insisted. "I'll just go with you."

"No. You need to take it easy. Doctor's orders, and mine." His tone left no room for argument. "You're welcome to stay here, and Ella will check in on you. If you'd prefer to go home, Hal will drive you. Someone will need to keep checking on you every couple of hours, especially if you go to sleep."

"Okay." I hated to admit it, but he was probably right. I didn't feel up for sitting at the police station for a couple of hours. "Thank you for taking care of me."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Don't thank me. You took care of yourself."

"I meant after. In the hospital, and bringing me here…"

"Least I could do." He checked his watch, and that reminded me.

"Why wasn't the panic button on Tank's watch working? I thought the control room would've had me on their monitors and been waiting for us when we got to Trenton."

Ranger shook his head. "Tank's watch doesn't have a panic button, or GPS. It's just a regular watch."

I let that sink in. No wonder the cavalry hadn't arrived. Good thing I hadn't known that at the time. Probably it would've doused any bravery I'd been able to muster up.

"I've got to go," Ranger said, heading for the door. "Take care of yourself."

His parting statement had a certain ring to it that made me uneasy. That wasn't his usual sign-off.

"See you later," I called. The only response was the click of the door closing behind him.

My hands were clenched together in my lap. The hospital staff had actually done a pretty good job of cleaning me up. The last I remembered, I'd been coated in Cordero's blood. An involuntary shiver went up my spine. A shower was my first order of business.

An indeterminate amount of time later, the air was thick with steam and I'd finally found the limit of Ranger's hot water heater. I stepped out of the shower and found that I needed to lean against the bathroom counter while I detangled my hair. My headache was feeling moderately better, but I was so exhausted I was having trouble staying on my feet.

Ella came in to wake me from my nap twice. She asked for my name and if I knew where I was, and then she asked if I wanted anything to eat. The second time, I said yes, and finally dragged myself out of bed. I was glad that the short-term memory loss seemed to have run its course. But on the downside, that meant that I remembered how strangely Ranger had been acting before he'd left.

Ella brought up a rolling cart full of plates, looking sheepish. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I brought a little of everything."

She wasn't kidding. There were bagels, roast beef sandwiches, pancakes, pasta, and cookies. The clock told me that the meal could be considered an early dinner, but I chose the pancakes anyway. And then I started on the cookies while I settled in on the couch to watch some mindless television. By my fourth cookie, it was nearly 9pm, and there was still no sign of Ranger. I'd expected him to be back by now.

I ventured down to the control room and ran into Hal. "Hey! Good to see you up and about. How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better enough to be getting sick of that question," I joked.

Hal smiled. "Glad to hear it, and noted. But you might want to brace yourself, because the guys have been worried about you. Everyone's heard by now about your takedown."

"Takedown?"

"Yeah, of Cordero. The way I understand it, that guy's pretty tough. We're impressed with how you handled the situation."

"At the time, I was mostly concerned with getting out alive," I admitted. "The 'takedown', such as it were, was kind of secondary. And truth be told, I didn't do much. I just sort of stood back and let it happen."

"You did good, Steph," he assured me.

"Thanks," I said again, awkwardly. Then I nodded my head toward Ranger's office. "Is he in?"

Hal's brow furrowed. "No. I thought he would've told you."

"Told me what?"

He looked uncomfortable. "He's, uh, not here."

"I gathered that. When will he be back?"

"Not sure. Maybe a couple days?"

I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead. "Days? Where is he?"

"He got spun up for a job out of country. That's all I know."

My heart and head both started to pound a little harder. "With Bravo team?"

Hal shrugged. "I don't know. That's above my pay grade."

"When did this happen?"

"Few hours ago. He only stopped by to grab a go bag from his office."

So he'd been in the building, but had purposefully avoided going up to his apartment. Purposefully avoided me. I'd had a somewhat sinking feeling since earlier that morning. He'd seemed abrupt; maybe distracted, maybe distanced. But with this news, the sinking feeling ended when a weight landed heavily in the pit of my stomach.

I had Hal drive me home, but not before I'd collected Rex from Ella. I'd missed him. Hal cleared the apartment and set Rex's aquarium back on the counter for me. He let himself out and then we were alone. I found a box of stale Golden Grahams in the cupboard and dropped a couple in Rex's food dish. He came out of his soup can, wiggled his whiskers at me, and took one of the Golden Grahams before he scurried back into his den.

"Home sweet home," I told him. "Don't worry. Everything will go back to normal now." And then I swiped at an escaped tear as it trailed down my cheek.

###

Lula gave a giant shudder that made her look like she was seizing. It wasn't the first time. The man in the elevator with us eyed her warily and then studiously focused his gaze on the digital display that counted the floors. When the doors dinged open on three, he couldn't exit fast enough.

"You okay?"

"You know hospitals give me the heebie jeebies." She shuddered again. "But don't worry. I'll be strong for Tank. It's just until we get there, I gotta get the heebie jeebies out."

We rode up one more level and exited on the fourth floor. A nurse at the reception desk directed us to room 4112, and Lula hustled ahead of me. She swung open the door to the room without knocking.

Tank was reclining in his bed with a laptop perched on his lap, and he looked up at Lula's less-than-subtle entrance. He wore a salmon-colored t-shirt, black-framed reading glasses, and a smile. Couldn't say which was more surprising to me.

Lula stormed over to him, hands on hips, eyes narrowed, leaning forward. "What the hell were you thinking, getting yourself shot at? I thought you was supposed to be some kind of badass who wears bulletproof vests all the time!"

Unless my eyes were deceiving me, Tank actually blushed a little. "Clearly I should have been."

"Damn right, you shoulda been! Won't make that stupid-ass mistake again, will you?"

"Nope."

"Promise?" Lula demanded.

"Yep."

"Well okay then." And she leaned over and planted one on him. It went on for several seconds, and I looked away and then cleared my throat.

They pulled apart and Tank straightened his glasses. Lula looked over at me. "You gonna just stand in the doorway all day, or what? Come on in, girl."

Tank sobered when he turned his gaze to me. "I owe you an apology. Lula's right, I'd grown lax on bodyguard duty. There's no excuse. I'm sorry I let Cordero get to you."

Guilt had already been simmering uncomfortably in my belly, and that brought it up to a boil. "From where I was standing, it didn't look like you had much of a choice. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I hate it when people get hurt for me."

Tank waved off my apology. "Wasn't your fault."

"Looks to me like the only person who deserves the blame here is that asshole Cordero," Lula said.

A faint smile returned to Tank's face while he looked at Lula, and then he turned back to me and the smile went flat around the edges. "You know that we're not the only ones playing the blame game, right?"

Yes, I'd gathered that. "Have you heard from him?"

"You just missed him, actually. He was here about an hour ago."

"He was here? He's back?" That news was just the right ingredient to turn the bubbling guilt into roiling indignation. I plopped down into a chair in the corner of Tank's room while the new emotion sloshed through me.

Tank was back to looking uncomfortable. "I think he only recently got back stateside," he offered as consolation.

"Figures. Why would he tell me he's back, when he didn't even tell me he was leaving in the first place." The truth was I hadn't heard a peep from Ranger since he'd left me in his apartment, dazed and concussed, two days ago.

"He's struggling right now," Tank said quietly.

And just like that, my heart clenched and the roiling emotions in my stomach quieted. "Tell him welcome to the club."

"Thinking that's going to be better off coming from you," he told me. "Especially since you're most likely the only one who could survive saying that to him."

Probably he was right. But first things first, I'd have to get a handle on my emotions if we had any chance of both of us making it out of that conversation intact.

Lula spent the first thirty minutes of our visit fussing over the quality of Tank's pillows until he was brought new ones. Then, after she caught one of the nurses eyeing him appreciatively, she spent the next thirty minutes scaring off anyone else who dared to lay eyes on him. I was content to sit back and watch, feeling strangely pleased that in a twisted way, the whole Los Reyes situation had led to a rekindling of their romance.

When Lula had heard the whole sordid story of Cordero - several versions of it in fact, from several Merry Men - she'd stormed over to my place to check on me. She found me in a sugar-coma on my couch, surrounded by candy bar wrappers. I was pissed at Ranger, feeling sorry for myself, and drowning in guilt over Tank. Rather than let me continue to wallow, she loaded me into her Firebird and we trekked out to Newark together.

Maybe I needed to take a page out of Lula's book. The woman was many things, but a wallflower wasn't one of them. She had no problem speaking her mind, even if it meant scolding a man twice her size who could make other grown men shake in their boots.

I excused myself and stepped into the hall to make a phone call. The control room answered on the first ring, as always. "Rangeman Security."

"Hey, it's Stephanie. Is Ranger in?"

"Negative."

"Not in the office, or not in the building?"

"Both. Er, neither."

I thanked him and disconnected. Then I knocked before re-entering the hospital room, hoping I could avoid interrupting a private goodbye that couldn't be unseen.

Lula was perched at the edge of Tank's bed, his laptop having long since been shoved aside. "How much longer they planning to keep you cooped up here?"

"Doc says I should be cleared for discharge on Saturday."

Lula made plans for another visit and to bring Tank home when he was released. As we said our goodbyes, I asked him for a favor.

"Name it."

"Can you plug the address of the Newark house into Lula's GPS?"

He grinned and reached for the phone Lula handed him. "Done."

"You telling me you stayed in this house for the past week, and you don't know where it is?" she asked.

"That's what I'm telling you," I confirmed.

Lula's eyes bugged out. "Wait. Is this the Batcave?"

I looked to Tank, but he just shrugged. "There are many batcaves."

Lula was practically vibrating with excitement when she angled behind the wheel and slid on a pair of oversized sunglasses. "Where we going?"

I had Lula's phone in my hand and recited the GPS directions to her while we wove through the city toward the surrounding suburbs. Lula was doing a lot of rubbernecking as we neared our destination. Most of the neighborhood's residents were hard at work on a Thursday mid-afternoon, making the streets feel sleepy.

"I'm a little disappointed," she admitted when we pulled into the driveway. "I'd imagined the Batcave being a little more distinctive than this."

"That would defeat the purpose of it being a batcave," I pointed out. "It's supposed to be under the radar."

"Huhn." She tore her gaze from the single-story brick house to look over at me. "You going in, or what?"

"Yep." Just as soon as the paralysis wore off.

Lula watched me for a few more seconds, and when she realized I wasn't going anywhere, she put the car in park. She turned to face me, resting her elbow on the steering wheel. "You love that man, don't you?"

"Yep." The word came out a little croaky. My mouth was suddenly feeling as dry as the Sahara.

"So what's the hold up? You don't know if he loves you back? Cause girl, I've seen the way Batman looks at you, and I can answer that one."

I heaved a sigh. "I know he loves me at least as much as he's capable of right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I made a sweeping gesture at the house. "You've met him, right? He takes tall, dark, and mysterious to a whole other level. I thought we'd been moving past the mysterious part. We'd been doing a good job of talking to each other, as in an actual two-way conversation. I thought we were moving forward."

Lula waited. "And?"

"Unfortunately, it's a 'but'."

"There ain't nothing unfortunate about that man's butt."

I smiled. She got me there. "I thought we were moving forward, but, as soon as things started to get tough he pulled back. He went back to being Mr. Uncommunicative."

"Sometimes men just think they've gotta solve all their problems themselves."

"Yeah, but in our lives, there are always going to be problems. And I can't be with someone who doesn't see me as a partner who can be trusted to work through them together."

Lula considered that. "Sounds fair. So now what?"

I sighed again, then set my shoulders. "I made him a promise that I need to stick to. So I'm going inside. Wish me luck."

"You want me to stick around in case you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. I'll be okay. If worse comes to worse, I'll take a taxi." Let's hope it didn't come to that.

Lula sat in the driveway while I walked up to the front door, but I didn't get a chance to knock before Ranger swung the door open. I took a step back in surprise, and he caught me by my elbow before I fell off the porch. He answered my unspoken question by pointing to one of the security cameras mounted on the outside of the house.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." He held the door open for me. I waved goodbye to Lula and stepped inside.

I turned back to face him when I reached the kitchen. "Where were you?"

My blood boiled while I watched him weigh his decision to answer. Finally he leaned back against the counter next to me and crossed his arms over his chest. "Cali. We got Valdez."

That bit of news threw me off track. "What? How?"

"Your idea paid off. We caught an upper management Reyes skulking around Trenton, and he gave us a tip on Valdez in exchange for a reduced sentence for distributing. Margeaux's sources validated his intel, and Bravo team flew in."

"And you got him," I repeated, stunned.

Ranger nodded. "The judge denied bond, so he's stuck until they set a trial. It will be a lengthy ordeal, and he'll get either multiple life sentences or the death penalty, depending on where they try him."

"Is Gabriella still going to be able to testify?" I wasn't sure if there were rules against witnesses who ran away and got themselves arrested.

"Yes. She's back in witness protection until then, with her sister."

I let that soak in for a few seconds. No doubt there would be more work behind the scenes, to make sure Los Reyes were shut down for good. And no doubt there would be another cartel, Par de Balos or others, ready to step into their shoes. But still, it felt good. The bad guys were behind bars, and I'd helped put them there.

"Can we go outside?" I asked, nodding toward the back deck.

He followed me out. I walked to the railing and leaned on my elbows, taking a deep, bracing breath of fresh air.

"I'm sorry about Cordero," Ranger said. He kept a few feet of distance between us.

"I was going to say the same to you. I know you trusted him, and it sucks to know that he betrayed you so easily."

He looked pained. "I'll live. You may not have."

"You may not have, either, if Cordero had gotten his way. But he didn't."

"You never would have met him if I hadn't asked for your help. I practically handed you over on a silver platter."

"You mean by warning me excessively to stay far, far away?" I would have rolled my eyes, except it still made my head hurt. "I know you really want to blame yourself for this one, but you don't get the credit. That belongs to Cordero and him alone."

"I introduced you. I was sitting twelve fucking inches from you when he slipped a goddamn tracker in your bag, and I didn't notice."

I crossed my arms over my chest, sensing that it was time to say what I'd come to say. "You're being an overbearing asshole."

Ranger froze, and I knew he understood.

"No one is responsible for Cordero's actions except for Cordero," I told him. "Just like no one is responsible for my actions except for me. You told me you would trust me."

"I do trust you."

"It doesn't feel like it. Not when you do things like shut down, shut me out, or go out of the country without telling me."

His jaw ticked. "There are always going to be things that I can't involve you in."

"I get that. I do. Clearly you've had your hands full with military issues, and I have no place in that work. I'm not arguing that. But I got complete radio silence from you, and I was worried."

"About what?"

Was he really that clueless? "About you! About us! About everything!"

"What do you mean, worried about us?"

I sighed. Did I really want to admit this to him? My teeth pulled at my lip while I considered my options, and apparently I took too long, because Ranger prompted me again.

"Steph. Talk to me."

"I was worried that maybe I'd just been deluding myself for the past week," I admitted. "Thinking that we'd made progress, when we hadn't. That those glimpses I'd gotten behind the curtain were just a fluke, and now the curtain was closed again, for good."

Ranger was quiet for several long moments. His eyes never left me, and though his blank face was firmly in place, I thought I could sense the wheels turning in his mind. When he spoke, it wasn't what I expected to hear.

"I was offered Cordero's job."

An icy feeling washed over me. So much for December 1st. So much for the light at the end of the tunnel. That was it. The curtain really was closed, and the door slammed, and the deadbolt locked.

"I turned it down," he continued.

My breath caught in my throat and my heart, though it felt like it was squeezed in a vice grip, started to beat harder. "Why?"

"It's not what I want." Ranger took a step forward, starting to close some of the distance between us. "It's not what I see for myself in my picture of 'Someday'."

"I thought you said you hadn't had time to think about what your picture looked like."

"I lied."

"So what is it?" I asked. The ball of worry I'd been carrying inside me clenched painfully.

"Babe." He stepped closer and tilted my chin up to look him in the eyes. For a stomach-dropping few seconds, I thought that was all he was going to say. But then a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You are my picture. You're all I see."

The little ball of worry melted into goo. "Jeez."

"Now the question is, have you given any more thought to your picture?"

"A little," I admitted.

"And?"

I looked around us pointedly, and then brought my eyes back to his. "It looks pretty much exactly like this."

He quietly studied me. I couldn't be sure he was even still breathing. He opened his mouth, then closed it. I'd never seen Ranger hesitate before, and that alone was enough to have me hanging on his next words.

"I need you to be sure," he finally said.

"In my picture, there may or may not be a sunset. And a glass of wine." I shrugged a shoulder. "But other than that, yeah. This is it for me. You're it for me."

"Be very sure," he cautioned again. "I don't want there to be any miscommunication about what I'm asking. I want you in my life and in my bed, and I want to be the only man in yours."

"Done," I agreed. "I want that, too."

"When I say that I want you in my bed, I mean literally. In my bed, in my home."

I hesitated. "Permanently? Like you want to move in together?"

He nodded, his eyes reading my face like a fascinating novel.

"Can we maybe revisit that conversation more than ten minutes after I've called you an overbearing asshole?"

He smiled. "If you insist. We'll come back to it tomorrow."

"What if I'm still not ready tomorrow?"

"Then we'll come back to it again the next day."

"While we're laying out the requests, can I make one?"

"Of course."

"I want you to keep talking to me." I watched him carefully. "Every day. Can you tell me one new thing each day? Something I don't know about you."

He thought about it for a minute. "Sometimes when I've had a really long day, I tell Ella she doesn't need to fix dinner, and I order takeout from the diner down the street. Bacon cheeseburger."

My jaw dropped. "I thought bacon was forbidden on Rangeman property."

"You thought wrong."

"I changed my mind, I'll move in tomorrow," I joked.

He chuckled and then took another step forward and pressed me into the railing at my back. "This isn't exactly something new, but there's something else I need to tell you."

"Okay," I drawled, trying to decide whether to be nervous.

His fingers curled around the nape of my neck and he pressed his forehead to mine. "I love you."

I didn't get a chance to respond, but my mouth curved into a smile underneath his. I sort of missed the Babe, but damn, those words were good to hear too.