Not mine, but a girl can dream.

Warning: language and and smut.

Thanks so much to Rach for her work as a beta and a partner in crime.

Chapter 22

"Joe," I called after him. He turned back for a moment. "Be careful." He gave me a sad smile.

His voice was rough, "You too Cup…Steph, you too." With that he turned back and disappeared around the corner.

I took a deep breath and tried to keep the tears from falling. I stared at the spot he had disappeared to. His words echoed in my head. He hadn't always treated me well. No he hadn't. But what about how I'd treated him? I'd used him as a substitute for the man I really wanted so I wouldn't be alone. I hoped we could get past this, maybe someday we could go back to being friends. I let out the breath I didn't realized I'd been holding and turned back to the house. I couldn't wait to get back to Ranger, to my life and to my future. I planned to give him a big hug and kiss when I reached him. But I never made it.

Better Man 23

Storyline borrowed from Lean Mean 13

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I had a headache the size of Montana and it felt like a goose egg on the back of my head to match. It was dark, but that was probably because I had my eyes shut. I was going to keep them that way until I got a little more info on where the hell I was and what the fuck was going on. I wasn't alone, that much I knew. I was in a car and thank god I wasn't in the trunk. I'm guessing the back seat. From what I could hear it was a nice car, quiet motor, smooth ride. It was no Porsche Turbo, but probably some sort of town car. There were 3 male voices and all of them angry. One of them sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until I heard his evil laugh that realization dawned. Petiak.

Unfortunately my eyeballs decided to pop open when my brain registered the amount of danger I was in. This guy liked to play with a flame thrower. I was about to become a toasted s'more.

"Good, you're awake." Petiak and his greasy hair and beady eyes turned to greet me from the front passenger seat. There was a short, fat, ugly guy behind the wheel and a tall, fat, ugly guy sitting next to me in the back seat with his gun drawn. I missed Dave, the guy with the stapled nuts. I mean, with him at least I had some familiarity. God, what does it say about your life when you are wistful about your would be kidnapper? I guess Dave was either still at Rangeman or a guest of the Trenton PD.

I focused back on Petiak and his beady little eyes; if they were any indication, this guy was nuts. That is, incase the flame thrower in his hands wasn't a tip-off to that little fact. I'd seen a lot of crazy in my life and this guy was up there near the top of the list. I shuddered as I cataloged my top ten experiences with crazies. Maybe my mom was right, maybe I needed a new job. No, this had nothing to do with my job. This guy wasn't my skip. This was Dickie's fault.

It was dark outside and we seemed to be driving in circles. I hadn't been out long. "Where's my key?" crazy eyed Petiak asked me. I shrugged in response. Tall, fat and ugly jammed the barrel of his gun into my ribs and encouraged me to think a little harder.

"What makes you think I have it?" I prodded, sending Tall-Fat a death glare.

Petiak gave me a sly grin, "Dickie said so."

I snorted, "Dickie is a lying, cheating no good sonuvabitch. Why would you believe him?"

Petiak nodded in agreement with the assessment of my ex-husband and his now ex-business partner. "Yes, but at the time he was properly motivated to tell me the truth." He petted the flame thrower that sat in his lap. Geeze mister, overcompensate much?

I decided that while the idea of him making a toasty treat out of my ex was appealing, I wasn't really looking forward to the same treatment myself. It was not the time to be cute, but the time to tell him the truth or at least some version of it. I explained about the clock that had been a wedding gift from my Aunt Tootie and that it was currently in the trunk of my former car. I might have failed to mention the reduced dimensions of my previously roomy POS.

Short-Fat grunted in understanding and swung the car in an illegal u-turn to take us to the junkyard. From his response to the horns and shouts we got from other drivers I could determine he was at least partially Italian. You never know, it could come in handy later when trying to identify my captors to the police. While his partner returned hand gestures, Tall-Fat used his arm to brace me back against the seat as the car fishtailed a bit. Yup, wouldn't want me to get injured in a car accident on the way to my murder. Or maybe he was just trying to cop a feel.

We turned the last corner and I saw the gate to the junkyard ahead. Of course it was locked. That hadn't kept Ranger and I out earlier, but I wasn't going to share that. Short-Fat got out of the car and rattled the padlock and chain, like just shaking it would cause it to fall away. When it didn't, Tall-Fat got out to help him. They argued back and forth. It was kind of like watching the 3 Stooges, but the 3rd stooge was still sitting in the front passenger seat, flame thrower aimed at me. Reaching no agreement, the two fat and uglies decided to rejoin us. After a meeting of the minds, they decided ramming the gate would be the best course of action.

I buckled myself in, said a few Hail Mary's, and prayed for Ranger to find me. I didn't know how he would, though. I had no phone and my trackers were back at my parents' house in my purse, not to mention that no one even knew I was missing.

When Joe left, I'd started to march myself toward the house when I fell sucker to the pitiful meowing that started up nearby. Following Nookie's cries in the opposite direction Joe and Bob had gone, I rounded the privacy fence Mr. Kowalski had installed after he found Grandma peeping at him. There was Nookie doing an excellent impression of Pooh Bear, her little butt stuck on this side of the fence and her head on the other, fat little tummy blocking the way. I'd leaned down to free her and wondered to myself, 'Is this how Ranger feels when he rescues me?' Before I'd been able to let that train of thought make me feel too pathetic, it was lights out. Now here I sat, about to play demolition derby without much hope for being rescued.

While I was busy worrying, the car lurched forward and crashed into the gate with such force that one side of the gate was ripped from its hinges. My seatbelt saved me from injury. Both of the front airbags deployed and were being fought by the occupants they'd saved. Tall-Fat had forgotten to buckle his belt and was knocked into the window of the passenger door. Of course the kick I aimed his way probably didn't help anything. Oops. It was chaos with swear words being uttered in multiple languages and promises of bodily harm threatened against each other. I took advantage of the situation and slipped out the door and tried to lose myself in the junkyard.

I could hear the swearing and the threats now turned in my direction as I slid among the towers of tin. Out running them was probably not an option. Even if they were as out of shape as they looked, this was me we were talking about. Octogenarians regularly outrun me. My best hope was to get somewhere safe and call for help. I rounded a stack of beat up Volkswagens and saw my salvation. The crane!

The crane was attached to an office, and what looked to be the crushing machine. It wasn't a freestanding piece of heavy equipment and I prayed there would be a phone in there. I dashed past the stack of cubes that contained my car and kept running past the Bombshell car museum, up the scaffolding that led to the office. There was a narrow catwalk that ran over top of the crushing machine to the office door. I just willed myself to not look down as I scurried across. I knew I'd chance being spotted by Petiak or one of his goons, but it was either this or be a sitting duck among the stacks of cars. Luckily the door to the controls was not locked. Good thing too, I was a bit too frazzled to practice my lock picking right now. Once inside, I locked the knob, threw the deadbolt and then grabbed the metal folding chair and shoved it under the knob just to be sure.

That taken care of, I looked frantically around the room. It was somewhat dark and I didn't want to turn on any lights. The safety lights and lights from the control panel gave just enough glow to search for a phone. The search came up empty. If I couldn't call directly for help, maybe I could cause enough commotion for the cavalry to come running or at least for the neighbors to call the police.

I inched my way over to the large window that looked down on the yard, hoping the small amount of light that was coming from behind me wouldn't be enough to expose me. As I peered down I couldn't help but notice the artful display of my automotive disasters. Well if that isn't a great place to start, I don't know what is. I searched the panel for the controls for the crane. Finally I just started pushing buttons in hopes that something would happen.

I heard a huge mechanical groan followed by a repeated mechanical chomping sound which caused the floor beneath me to vibrate. The crusher. I must have turned on the crusher. I started to look for the controls to shut it off. A bright light shining through the small window in the door distracted my efforts. That was an awful bright light. I guess it was because it was coming from a flame thrower. Petiak was standing outside the door creatively cursing and trying to melt his way in. Shit.

Back to the controls. I needed to cause a scene and do it now. With the touch of a big red button the joystick on the panel lit up and I was in business. I tried to ignore the mad man at the door and maneuvered the crane to grasp my formerly happy yellow ford escape from its final resting place. The controls were eerily similar to the claw game in an arcade so I was a pro in no time. The big magnet grabbed the yellow mess and lifted it easily from the ground. Swinging the wreckage towards the crusher, a great sense of satisfaction took hold.

I was tired of being the butt of everyone's jokes, the one they bet on. The victim. This makeshift museum was an insult and I was going to see it destroyed. Lost in my musings, the yellow mass of metal dangled above the catwalk on its way to its final destination. Even more creative curse words were heard from Petiak at the door and he momentarily stopped his crusade to melt down the doorway. Good.

I moved the mess to above the crusher and released it, hearing a satisfying crunch as I erased one bit of bad car karma. Now for another. I plucked the sooty green Saturn carcass which put an end to Mama Macaroni. If ever there was a memory that needed to be crushed, it was this one. The horrible death of a horrible woman. The man had been a total lunatic. Stiva still gave me nightmares and I continued to battle claustrophobia from the casket and the kitchen cupboard. I ignored the rants from the current madman trying to kill me as I enjoyed the satisfying crunch of putting an end to another personal demon.

Next in line was the Porsche pancake. I lifted the mangled mess, but instead of anger, warmth flooded me. Ranger. That was the first time he'd loaned me a car. I was so worried about what it meant, what I owed him for it. Lula had suggested a car that fine would require sex as payment and at the time the thought frightened and thrilled me in equal portions. And that was just for driving it, not for destroying it. I remember being positive that with its demise the price would be raised to include butt stuff. I didn't understand then what he'd meant, no price. No one had ever given me anything without wanting something in return. And being the good little girl I was I always tried to give them what they wanted.

What about what I wanted? My whole life it seemed to take a backseat to what everyone else wanted for me. That is until now. I'd decided earlier what I wanted – Ranger. And now I just had to do what I could to stay alive until he could get here to rescue me yet again and we could have our chance at forever. The biggest thing standing in my way was a madman with a flamethrower. Or at least he was. Looking over at the door I expected to see flames and a madman, but there was nothing. I inched my way over to the door to peer out when a huge boom and ball of fire came rushing up from the crusher to knock me on my ass.

Picking myself up and checking to see that nothing was broken I peered out again, seeing what I assumed were the remains of a madman and his flame thrower in the metal teeth of the crushing machine. Eewwww. I needed to add death-by-car-crushing-machine and exploding-flame-flower to the list of ways I did not want to die. I shuddered, trying to clear the image from my mind.

I was going to shut off the machine in an attempt to preserve some evidence, but my attention was drawn to the opposite end of the catwalk as the two goons, Tall-Fat and Short-Fat fought with each other for position as they both scrambled down the stairs as fast as their fat little legs would carry them. Once they hit the ground they split, the tall one running straight into Ranger's fist while the other one escaped around the corner. As Ranger stood after cuffing his capture, Joe appeared from a stack of cars hauling Short-Fat all trussed up like a Christmas goose. The two men did some sort of silent manly nod from the Alpha Male handbook. To say it was odd to see the two of them working together again would be an understatement, especially considering the last time they were together there were guns and promises of pain.

I wanted to run to them. Throw my arms around Ranger and thank Joe for his help, but while the fire door had withstood Petiak's assault, it was too mangled for me to open. Without a cell phone I found the next best thing. The loudspeaker.

"Carlos you'd better stop paling around with Joe and get your cute Cuban ass up here and rescue me." I watched as his eyes flew to mine and he gave me the full 220 watt smile. He said something to Joe who was on his phone, no doubt calling in the latest episode in the Bombshell Bounty Hunter Chronicles. I watched as Ranger's finely chiseled body scaled the steps effortlessly and smoothly made his way across the catwalk. He examined the door which had finally cooled enough to touch. He motioned for me to step back. With a few swift kicks he had the door opened. Good thing Petiak hadn't thought of that. I graciously allowed him 3 steps into the room before I launched myself into his arms.

"Proud of you Babe." Ranger caught my lips with his illustrating how happy he was to have found me unharmed. He refused to put me down as we made our way back across the catwalk and down to where Joe stood, now surrounded by patrol cars, uniformed officers and CSI Techs.

Ranger finally set me on my feet, but held me close to him. "How did you two know where I was? Did you have Ella sew trackers into my underwear again?" I accused. Joe stifled a laugh while Ranger shifted his feet. He was about to answer me when Joe jumped in and saved him.

"I don't know what Manoso does with your underwear and I don't want to know. But I saw the town car peel out of the alley as I headed back to my house. I had a bad feeling about it and I ran back to your parents' house and found Ranger." And you lived? Was what I wanted to ask, but it didn't seem like the time.

"So if you knew I was in the town car you saw, what the hell took you so long to get here?" Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but I came very close to being a very toasty treat.

Ranger and Joe exchanged some weird look before Ranger finally answered. "By the time we settled on a strategy the car was gone. We weren't able to tail you." I narrowed my eyes at the two of them. Settle on a strategy sounded like code for pissing match. Before I could press it further, Joe interrupted.

"Dispatch got a call from one of the neighbors here, something about a car and explosion. Naturally they assumed you were involved somehow. We both got called." He shook his head, "PD didn't even know you were missing, they were just hoping on some movement in the pools. It's been almost a week since you've blown anything up." He looked like he was thinking about grinning, but he caught the look I was throwing his way and looked duly chastised. Ranger caught on much quicker and looked apologetic before I'd even turned my gaze in his direction. Men.

I answered questions about my brief abduction and the whereabouts of Petiak. Thankfully someone had managed to shut down the crusher, but I didn't think they would find much of him. What had been left in big enough pieces was probably barbecued when the propane tank from his flame thrower exploded. It was nice to see karma actually working for me this time, but I could have done without the images his explosive demise left me with. I listed the offenses of Tall-Fat and Short-Fat as they were led away. The guys just shook their heads at my nicknames.

Finally, Ranger was able to convince them that anything else they needed to know we would be happy to answer tomorrow down at the station. As we were leaving Joe asked, "Neither of you know anything about the Pino's Gift Certificate or case of beer that was delivered with a blank thank you note to my house today, do you?" I looked at Ranger, the shock on my face evident. His was of course blank.

Ranger scooped me up and headed towards his car as he threw over his shoulder to Joe, "I always pay my debts Morelli."