CHAPTER 27

Consider Yourself Warned

A fierce wave of anger rolled over me as I stood in the open doorway of the bathroom. I knew that smell… and it didn't have anything to do with the recent holidays. Diesel was sitting in the reclining chair by my bed, with his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging down—staring at the floor.

Now he shows up… when I don't need his help anymore.

"Please don't hate me, Sunshine," he said without looking up, his voice sounding pained.

Several times I'd called out to him while I was trapped in the cellar—but he never came. He can pop in anywhere he wants and yet he left me down there. Sure, he sounded regretful, but it didn't explain why he abandoned me to that hell. "Why?" I asked, trying to control my anger, but it was bleeding through anyway. "Didn't you hear me calling for you?"

"I always hear when you call my name," he said hoarsely. "And most times I can sense when you need my help." He sat up and turned to me, nervously stroking his beard, pulling the hairs to a fine point at his chin.

"Yet, you didn't come… obviously!" I bit my lip, not sure I wanted to listen to what he had to say.

He let out a defeated breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "I was grounded."

"Grounded?" I repeated incredulously. How in the hell could a grown man with his talents be grounded?

His nostrils flared as his fury sprang to life. "More like the BUM forbade me from interfering. I was told this was something you had to go through on your own—that it was part of your journey. If I stepped in, it would alter your future."

The first time Diesel popped into my life, he told me about the Board of Unmentionable Marshalls. They were the governing body of all unmentionables and Diesel worked for them as a bounty hunter. According to him, he was human but with talents I'd never understand, and as I listened to his explanation, his remorse pierced the anger surrounding my heart. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and slowly started walking toward him, pushing my IV pump along with me. I stood in front of him and asked the big question glaring me in the face. "Why are you here now?"

He shrugged. "I had to see with my own eyes that you were okay."

I crossed in front of him with the bed behind me, my arms down at my side, shivering in the thin hospital gown. He reached out and gently pulled me across his lap, careful not to put any pressure on my broken ribs. I melted into his embrace, snuggling closer into his muscular body with my side pressed against his chest and my feet on the seat beside his thigh. "I thought I was going to die," I whispered as my emotions overloaded. My voice became hoarse and tears threatened. I didn't want to relive what happened down there, but I needed to know how much he knew. "Do you know what he did to us?"

"Yeah." He whispered regretfully as he tucked my head under his chin, rubbing his scruffy beard against my curls.

"Can I tell you something?" His body tensed. He was probably afraid I was going to tell him all the horrible things that were done to me.

"You can tell me anything, Sunshine."

I hid my face in his chest, shoulders sagging. "As bad as I felt for the women he killed, I hated having to look at them every day."

He toyed with a curl, twirling it around his finger. He didn't say anything or judge me. So, I took a chance and asked him what I was most afraid to find out. "Do you know if he's dead?"

"The latest update from the BUM was that he is still alive… barely."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. It wasn't too late to stop this. As soon as it popped into my head, I shook the thought away. I couldn't take the chance some bleeding heart on a jury would feel sorry for his sad childhood and give him a chance to hurt other women. I told myself I was doing the right thing—saving society from going through a trial—when really my actions were self-serving. Having my life dissected by people who didn't know me, that hadn't walked in my shoes, was the last thing I wanted.

But sometimes, the lies we tell ourselves to justify our actions are the hardest to live with. They bother you like the seam of a sock that's slightly crooked and hurts your feet with each step you take. You wiggle your toes and try to adjust your foot, but it doesn't help—nothing does except taking off the sock to find relief. In this case, that would mean reporting the location of the cellar, and I wasn't prepared to do that. I leaned back, meeting his eyes, challenging him to tell me I was doing the wrong thing. "I'm not going to tell them where he is... not until he's dead. Does that make me a bad person?"

He cocked his head to the side, and I could see the fire in his eyes. "You're the kindest person I know and I'm not going to judge you for doing what you need to do."

"If I tell them where he is, they could go and arrest him and he would live, but I can't make the words come out," I confessed, my eyes overflowing with tears. They rolled down my cheeks and my body shook with silent sobs as I let everything out. I hated for anyone to see me cry but trying to hold them in was like plugging up Niagara Falls. It just wasn't happening.

He tightened his arms around me as my body racked with deep soul crushing sobs. I was overwhelmed with grief, anger, and pain for what the women and I went through, but there was also a sense of peace when I thought of Durant chained up on the dingy mattress waiting to die. He knew better than anyone what would happen to him without food and water, and I hoped he suffered both mentally and physically until his last breath.

"You're killing me, Sunshine!"

"I can't stop," I said in between sobs. He reached for a tissue on the bedside table, grabbing several and handing them to me as he rubbed my back soothingly.

"Shhh… Just let it all out. I've got you."

I wiped my eyes and nose, slowly regaining my composure as he held me through it all. "Could you see what he was doing to me?"

He breathed deep and made a low sound in his throat—it was a little bit of a growl mixed with a sob. "No, but I could feel the things you were feeling. Hunger, thirst, fear… pain."

I moved to readjust myself into a better position, bracing for the pain, but when I moved, I realized it didn't hurt as much. All I felt was blissful peace as I sat on Diesel's lap. "I'm not cold anymore," I told him, as my eyes grew heavy. "And I'm not hurting as much."

My ear was pressed against his chiseled chest, right over his heart. I could feel its steady beat, lulling me to sleep. "You're welcome," he said.

It took a moment for his words to register. Was he admitting what I thought he was? I tried to lean back so I could see his face, but he tightened his arms around me, keeping me in place. "It's you! You're making me warm?" I asked in awe. He didn't answer. Instead, he slid the back of my gown open and placed his right hand directly over my broken ribs. He probably wasn't going to answer me this time either, but I had to try. "Are you healing me too?"

"It's the least I can do." His voice was filled with guilt, letting me know that doing nothing to help me had taken its toll on him as well. It wasn't the same, of course, but I think we both suffered from what Durant did.

I put my hand on his chest, trying to comfort him. "It wasn't your fault, Diesel. Whatever you're thinking is wrong."

"Shhh… Just relax and let me hold you for a while." I did as he asked, giving into the moment of safety he provided, knowing we were both damaged by what happened.

"Your hand is on my ass."

"It was cold too." He shrugged and I just knew he was smiling that mischievous smile he always used when trying to get me to do his bidding. "Too bad you're not wearing a bra. I like practicing my removal skills on you—it keeps me sharp." His stomach vibrated against my side as we both laughed at his silliness. "If I'd been thinking straight, I'd have gotten us both naked and told you skin to skin contact was the only way to warm you up."

I laughed so hard, I snorted. I realized that for the first time in weeks, I felt—normal. "I don't know what made the higher ups at the BUM zap you into my apartment that first time, but I'm glad they did."

"Me too, Sunshine." He kissed the top of my head and I snuggled in closer, enjoying his warmth.

While Stephanie slept in his arms, Diesel thought about what he knew of her time in the cellar. The BUM had sparingly relayed details of her condition, updating him as necessary. And that consideration was only after he threatened to drop all his cases—effectively resigning his commission as a marshal. There were only a handful of people who could do his job, needless to say, that got their attention. As a result, he was granted the rare privilege of speaking with the Master Seer personally.

Dayah foretold Stephanie's escape, and assured him she would make a full physical recovery. At any time, he could have circumvented their decree, violating his pledge of honor and gotten her out, but he was warned of the cost to them both. In this instance, he wasn't worried about himself, but according to Dayah, if Stephanie didn't stay and fight for her freedom, her life and the lives of others would be irrevocably changed for the worse. He was told that soon, she would be faced with a metaphorical fork in the road. If she chooses the correct path, it will lead to her redemption. He didn't understand it all, but they'd never led Diesel wrong before and he had to trust they knew better.

Steph was his friend, the rare type of person that would go to the wall for you, and he didn't deserve her forgiveness. He'd struggled daily to ignore the elder's advice and not go to her. Just thinking about that fucker torturing her had made him burn with anger. He'd felt every lick of that damn belt and wasn't sure he'd ever shake off the shame he felt as he stood by and let that asshole violate her.

His head dropped back against the chair and fell to the side as his life force was being depleted. Allowing Stephanie to absorb his healing energy had weakened him—leaving him vulnerable, but it was a small price to pay to make things right. He'd wanted to come to the hospital immediately, but until this moment, she'd been surrounded by people, and he needed private, uninterrupted time to heal her. Soon, someone would come in to check on her and he'd have to leave, but until then, he was going to enjoy having her in his arms. It would be a long time until they met again.

As if his fear of being interrupted was a self-fulfilling prophecy, the door opened. It was like that for him sometimes. He'd come to accept his crazy life. He looked up as a red-haired nurse came striding in. She frowned when she noticed the empty bed. Slightly panicked, her eyes darted to the bathroom looking for Stephanie. She let out a yelp when she found her sitting on Diesel's lap.

The nurse's reaction shocked the shit out of Bobby and Junior who'd been standing guard outside Stephanie's door for the past eight hours. With their guns drawn, they rushed into the room, pushing the nurse aside. Just as they were trained to do, they scanned the room in one glance, pinpointing the danger instantly.

"Don't fucking move!" Bobby said as he glowered at Diesel, wondering how the hell he got past them. There was no way. No fucking way he walked through that door. Both he and Junior had remained at their post since Morelli left four hours ago. No bathroom breaks. No coffee breaks. Nothing. But getting Ranger to believe him was going to be impossible. Bobby wanted to shake his head at his own stupidity. How did he even get on this assignment? Stephanie was nothing but trouble. He'd decided a long time ago that he wasn't going to be one of the men who got hurt babysitting her while she played with the big boys.

"I'm calling security," Cathy called out nervously.

"No need," Bobby said, never taking his eyes off Diesel. "Please step out of the room ma'am."

Cathy reluctantly stepped into the hall, leaving the door open. She didn't like leaving Stephanie in this situation, but the man holding her didn't seem to want to hurt her. If anything, he looked at Stephanie with such deep emotions that it almost broke Cathy's heart.

"Call Ranger," Bobby told Junior, still holding his gun on Diesel. Junior gave Bobby a look that said, 'Why do I have to call him? You do it.' But he held his gun with one hand and pulled his phone out with the other. While he dialed, Bobby's voice turned menacing as he asked the strange man, "Who the hell are you?"

The smirk on the blonde Viking's face was enough to make Bobby pull the trigger—almost. It took sheer force of will to deny his finger the pleasure. Blondie didn't seem to realize or care about the danger he was in.

Diesel wasn't worried about being shot. If it was his time to go, then it was his time to go—it was as simple as that. Some days, he even welcomed it. He sat patiently in the chair cradling Stephanie, waiting for the long overdue showdown with Ranger. Until now, they'd tolerated each other, respecting the other's strengths as top men in their fields, but when it came to Stephanie, all bets were off.

Not even five minutes went by until Ranger burst through the doorway, gun drawn, striding across the room to stand in front of Diesel, ready to kill if need be. As soon as he got the description from Junior, he knew it was Diesel. He also knew the man wouldn't hurt Stephanie, but that didn't mean he wasn't pissed that he took her out of bed and was holding her on his lap. That was something he'd wanted to do, but with her injuries, he hadn't wanted to hurt her.

"I don't know how he got in here, boss," Junior said. "He didn't come through the door, that's for damn sure." He licked his lips, fighting the urge to wipe the sweat accumulating on his brow. He was newer than most of the other Rangemen and right now he was worried Ranger was going to murder him for this blunder.

Stephanie seemed to be sleeping deeply and Ranger didn't want to startle her awake, but fury rose inside him at seeing her in the arms of another man—half naked—her ass nestled in between his thighs. He could see her underwear and Diesel's hands were inside her gown—touching her bare skin. He growled low in his throat. "Where's Morelli?"

Stephanie stirred at the loud noise but didn't wake. Instead, she burrowed deeper against Diesel, her mouth at the side of his throat as if she was kissing his neck. Ranger's chest tightened as he watched her squirm and moan low in her throat. His nostrils flared, but he made no other outward expression.

Junior looked to Bobby, hoping he'd be the one to tell him.

"Morelli left four hours ago," Bobby said.

Ranger's chest rumbled with rage. He'd grudgingly gone to the hotel across the street because Morelli had requested time alone with Stephanie, but the son of a bitch hadn't even lasted an hour before he abandoned her. Both of his men had been instructed to notify him when Morelli left the hospital. Someone was going to answer for not following orders. "Dismissed," Ranger said to his men. He had to get their eyes off Stephanie's mostly naked body. Junior and Bobby holstered their weapons and left the room, taking up their post on each side of the door. Ranger also holstered his gun and called to Cathy who was still hovering outside the open door. "Check her and make sure she's okay."

Cathy came forward, eyeing Diesel suspiciously and then she turned to Ranger.

"He's a friend of Stephanie's," Ranger said.

She nodded and checked Stephanie's pulse before listening to her heart with her stethoscope. "She's fine… just sleeping," she said while she made sure there were no problems with her IV.

"Thank you," he told her. "You can go."

Even though she was uneasy about leaving, she nodded and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Ranger's muscles were tight, his stance wide, his face blank, but his eyes—his eyes were blazing with fury.

Diesel didn't blink. In fact, his mouth curled up at the edges resembling a smirk. A crazy thing for him to do in his present predicament. But that was Diesel—he didn't register fear like most men. He reclined back in the chair, crossing his feet in front of him, lounging with Stephanie on top of him as if he didn't have a care in the world. He continued rubbing Stephanie's back, his fingers barely ghosting over the welts and bruises, feeling every one of her ribs. He was careful not to hurt her, but it was essential he maintain physical contact with the worst of her injuries in order to heal her.

Ranger knew when he was being baited and he wasn't biting. "She shouldn't be out of bed," he said as he stepped forward with his hands out. "Give her to me."

Diesel shook his head, giving him a tiny smile that some would construe as a smirk. "I think she likes it where she is."

Ranger wanted to gut the man. But he was between a rock and a hard place. If he tried to forcibly remove Stephanie, she could get hurt, and that was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he affected his own nonchalant attitude and leaned back against Stephanie's bed. If he extended his feet a few more inches they'd be touching the tips of Diesel's boots, that's how close the two time-bombs were.

"What are you doing here?"

Diesel's mouth twitched before he spoke. "I came to see my friend."

"You should have called first."

"Stephanie likes it when I drop in." Diesel smirked.

"Aren't you going to ask how she is?"

"Don't need to," Diesel said.

What the hell? Did she tell Diesel what happened to her?

Before Ranger could ask, Diesel continued. "We had a nice long chat." He caressed Stephanie's skin and spoke in a friendly tone. "She told me lots of things."

Anger hummed through Ranger's veins, but he kept his frustration in check. "She told you what happened to her?"

Diesel leaned his head back on the chair as if he alone held the weight of the world. His eyes made their way to Ranger's face, slowly nodding once.

Ranger's chest did a funny thing—it felt like it was being flipped inside out. He knew she'd been evasive earlier—not telling the whole truth. He'd seen the memories in her eyes before she banked them. She was haunted by nightmares, but he was prepared to give her time, knowing she'd tell him when she was ready. But according to Diesel, she'd confided in him—and that shit burned. Ranger glowered at him. "What did she tell you?"

Diesel's voice became rough—angry—as he stared out the window into the pitch-black night. "Nothing I didn't already know."

Ranger stopped breathing, his body outwardly still, like a slab of granite, but inside, he was burning. Molecules of rage were vibrating furiously in all directions. He was doing his damndest to keep from blowing up. Self-control was one of the many areas where he excelled. No one ever knew how close they came to dying—because he was that good. He could appear calm, unaffected—until he didn't—but by then it was too late for the other person. Despite what was going on inside, when he spoke, his tone was careful—measured. "You knew where she was, and you didn't help her?"

Diesel leaned his head back further, looking at the ceiling, and then he squeezed his eyes closed in remorse. "Sometimes, doing nothing is the hardest thing to do."

In a flash, Ranger was beside him, holding the barrel of his gun to the side of Diesel's head as Stephanie slept, blissfully unaware of the danger. "Give me a reason not to kill you!"

"I'm hard to kill."

Ranger didn't move—he didn't blink—he was barely restraining himself.

"She understands why I didn't free her." Diesel raised his head off the chair and took a heavy breath—the gun against his temple was of no consequence to him. "Even though I don't deserve it, she forgave me."

Ranger knew Diesel had a reputation for doing odd, unexplainable things. He admitted to knowing where Stephanie had been held, but not helping her. He wanted to know why. "Stephanie has a forgiving heart, but I don't. Tell me what you know, and I might let you live."

The barrel of the gun moved slightly as Diesel shook his head and sighed. "It's up to her to tell you. But be sure you really want to know because having those images in your head will haunt you."

Ranger heard the guilt and regret in Diesel's voice and dropped the gun to his side. "She might want to forgive you for letting her suffer, but she won't be able to. She'll grow to hate you for it."

Suddenly, Diesel recalled what Dayah had said about Morelli and Ranger. He bit back his anger. Two men who proclaimed to love Stephanie but turned to other women instead of committing to her—each of them playing with her emotions as they took what they wanted from her and then made excuses why they couldn't give her what she needed. If they had been paying attention to her, she might not have been taken. In Diesel's opinion, there was plenty of blame to go around.

He lovingly looked down at the woman in his arms, wishing she was meant for him. But, as usual, fate had other ideas. In fact, this was the last time they'd be together for many years, and his heart was breaking at the loss.

Dayah had told him Stephanie's path to happiness was going to be long and hard, but she was strong of heart and mind and would eventually find her happily ever after. Knowing she was on the right path made parting easier for Diesel. He could walk away knowing he was doing the right thing. That didn't mean he wasn't still angry—because he was. He'd like nothing more than to kick Ranger's ass. He knew the man in black had stupidly denied a relationship with Stephanie and he knew exactly where he'd been when Stephanie's ordeal began. He let the rage build as he menacingly looked up at Ranger, appraising him from head to toe, contempt dripping from his voice when he spoke. "You and Morelli should be more concerned about where you were and what you were doing while she suffered."

Ranger wasn't used to anyone calling him out on his actions and he didn't like the knowing glint in Diesel's eyes. It was as if he knew he was in bed with Salina when he found out that Stephanie was missing. It left him feeling unsettled.

Diesel put his anger aside for the moment. There was one more thing he had to take care of. He knew that Stephanie would have to give a statement to the feds, but if she went through with her plan to let Durant die, she'd need legal help. Maybe it was time Ranger worked toward redeeming himself. "The feds are going to question her soon, and when they do, she's going to need a lawyer. If you care about her at all, you'll get her the best there is and stand by her."

Ranger narrowed his eyes. "What kind of trouble could she be in? She's the victim."

Diesel didn't bother answering—it wasn't his place to enlighten Ranger. He only knew that a good lawyer was the only thing keeping her from serving time in prison for what she was allowing to happen. He got up slowly from the chair, his body weakened from giving Steph his energy. He carefully carried her sleeping body over to the bed and laid her down. He covered her up, leaned in, and whispered, "You may have felt abandoned, but you were never alone. I was with you every step of the way." He cupped her jaw, running his thumb over the bruises around her eyes and cheeks, slowing when he got to her split lip. "I've given you all that I can. When you wake, you'll feel much better." He kissed her tenderly on the lips. "Until next time, Sunshine." He walked to the door and just as he was about to open it, he turned back, raising his eyebrows. "A piece of advice?"

Ranger stood over Stephanie, laying claim to what was his by placing his hand on her shoulder. He gave no response. He didn't want to hear another word that Diesel had to say.

"There is no other woman on this planet like Stephanie Plum." Diesel gave him a half smile, his tone wistful. "Make sure you can live with the choices you make. There are no do overs and sometimes our mistakes haunt us for the rest of our lives."

Ranger didn't appreciate the cryptic advice, but in his line of work, emotions were counterproductive. He pushed his reaction to the background and issued a warning of his own. "Stay the hell away from her. If I see you again… I will kill you."