Author's Note/HEADS UP: I've been having some severe computer troubles lately. It's not unexpected since my laptop (Melpomene) has been on her last legs for a while but now, the speakers are mostly dead except for when I use my headphones (which isn't a problem), the disk is running out of room (big problem!), it doesn't go into sleep mode anymore, and…well, the point is, if I go completely off the grid on here, I'm okay but my computer is not. Fortunately, I have a steady income that will be getting a 2016 boost from my state's increase in minimum wage just in time for electronics to go on sale.
Whatever you do and don't celebrate this time of year, have a good time with it. Stay safe, sane, and have a good 2015-2016 transition!
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
4 Days Later…
"So, he was telling the truth. He really didn't kill her."
"Benito Ramirez saw him talking to Carmen in an alley and thought that she was stepping out with him so he killed her and decided to set Joe up for it. Look, uh…Steph, I know you hate him. Everyone does. You could've just brought him in and taken the 50K but you didn't. You helped him clear his name and bust up Jimmy Alpha's heroin hustle to boot. Why?"
"Joe Morelli deserves to go to prison for something he actually did, Eddie. I was hoping that he was full of shit about being innocent but I had to be sure. I didn't want his death on my conscience."
"Well, you saved his ass and his career."
"Don't remind me. I did it for my nieces. Fucking Steve stole all of their college money when he left Val and Kloughn can barely put his shoes on the right feet half the time, much less practice law."
"Ain't that the truth. Your sister went from one yutz to another."
"Yeah, but at least actually Kloughn loves her and the girls. When can I get my gun back? I killed Alpha in self defense. The wire proves that so I want my gun back. I still need it for work."
"You can pick it up before you leave. Your car's been recovered but the damage…"
"I know. I figured it would be totaled."
"Do you…uh, do you need a ride home?"
"I've got a ride on the way. Can I go now?"
"Yeah."
I could feel Eddie's worried gaze on me as he escorted me back to the lobby. I could also hear the low toned conversations about my role in exonerating Morelli but the only thing I cared about was getting my gun and going home. I killed someone 2 nights ago. I pointed my gun at Jimmy Alpha and emptied 5 rounds into his heart and one into his head just to be sure. I then had charged forward and tazed Benito Ramirez into unconsciousness. I had set Jorge ablaze and pushed him downhill into the river to get the pair's attention away from Morelli, who they were beating the hell out of, and to me. Carmen Sanchez's body had been recovered and due to the wires Morelli and I had been wearing, there was a solid case against those who killed her. She would finally get justice. Morelli was a free man and the 46,780 dollars had been deposited in the bank, split between all 3 of my nieces.
I had achieved what I wanted to achieve but I still felt like shit for what I had to do.
As I mentioned before, I hate guns. I hate what guns can do but I had to do what I had to do so I could get out alive. Morelli still being alive was an unfortunate side effect of my actions but it was better than the alternative. Benito was notorious for his own brand of violence against women. Morelli men would slap women around and talk to them and about them like they were glorified whores/house servants. Benito would just go from Zen to Crazed at the slightest provocation. It made him a hell of an amateur boxer but an awful boyfriend and a worse man. He wasn't even a man. He was a beast in human skin and he had become fixated on me. I shudder to think of what could've happened to me if he had really gotten his hands on me.
Poor Carmen…at least she'll be able to rest in peace, now. She'll have a proper burial instead of rotting further in that fuel drum and the bastards who allowed her life to end so horribly would never hurt anyone else. That's something and that's something good to cling to.
Another good thing, another surprising person, was Ranger.
Ranger has been awesome. He worked with me without making me feel like a little kid playing dress up and he provided the wires I used to get evidence. Morelli had been less than pleased to see him when he regained consciousness in Flyer's parking lot but if Ranger hadn't been there, I would've gone from tazing him to putting bullets in him. Ranger listened to Morelli's explanation with a more objective ear than I ever could and that had led to me giving him until Saturday to prove his innocence. It couldn't do any harm, I figured. Morelli was a punk ass bitch and a liar. Helping him would only prove it…
It didn't prove that he was a liar and he was still a bitch in my eyes but not an utterly useless one.
Morelli had grown up and while he was still a chauvinistic and annoying pig overall, there was a good amount of decency in him. He had learned how to talk to a woman with respect and he had actually apologized for what happened between us in the past. The apology was years late and billions of dollars short but it was better than the justifications and the excuses. He actually acknowledged that he had been wrong to do what he did to me in his father's garage and especially at the Tasty Pastry.
I still won't forgive him but the show of maturity, along with the evidence we had unearthed that supported his innocence made me help him out. I had held out hope that he was full of shit but…well, it is what it is. Que sera, sera and all that jazz. Besides, just because he was innocent of Carmen Sanchez's murder and drug running didn't mean that he was immune to doing anything shady. Some of the dirtiest crooks in the world are cops and at the end of the day, decency aside, he's still a Morelli man. Morelli men are ego driven, self destructive fuck ups, the whole lot of them. Joe will eventually succumb to his DNA's legacy and I hope to be around to see it from a safe distance.
"Hey, Cupcake."
Speak of the Devil and he'll fly screaming out of your ass or follow you out the door. Instead of the ratty pull over hoodie and jeans I had last seen him in, Morelli was in a cheap but clean black suit. The bruising on his face was already healing well and he had his detective shield back, along with his service weapon. I took my own weapon out of the evidence bag and after making sure the safety was on (despite its bullets still being lodged in Jimmy Alpha), returned it to its usual place at the small of my back.
The look I gave him in response to the despised nickname could've toppled a red oak and he actually backed up a couple of steps. Good. Maybe if I keep working on my glare, I can get Skips to cuff themselves in the wake of it like Ranger's can.
"I meant Stephanie. Sorry. Can we talk for a second?"
"Sure. What do you want?"
"Can we talk in private?"
"No. What do you want? Make it quick. My ride's on the way."
"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to get dinner. Maybe watch the Rangers game together…"
"No."
"No?"
"Hell to the no. Look, Morelli, just because I helped get you out of your murder jam doesn't mean that I'm going to fuck you again. We already tried that and it did not work out very well for either of us. I ended up sore, unsatisfied, and with my reputation blown to shit and you still limp when it rains. Time only goes forward for a reason and after what happened with The Dick, I swore on the blood of Ben and Jerry and on my Grandpa Mazur's grave that I wouldn't purposely get into another relationship with an asshole. I'll work with you if have to but other than that, we are not friends and you are not lover or boyfriend material to me."
"But Ranger fucking Manoso is? Come on…he's a loose cannon and a murdering psychopath!"
"So am I! It's why you're still alive and a cop, remember?"
"That…that's different, Cup…"
"I am not a goddamned Cupcake."
"That's entirely different, Stephanie."
"Is it? I'm not gonna lie. I do think that Ranger's the bee's knees and I want to fuck him raw but even if he wasn't in the picture, I still wouldn't want to be with you. Being with you would be like taking a thousand steps backward. It would be like growing down instead of growing up and I don't want to do that. Besides, you know damned well that we wouldn't last a month before I shot you or your mother or your crazy old drooling bat of a Grandma when she tried to give me her stupid Eye or worse, a damned fertility blessing. You'd want me to quit my job and be a proper housewife while you brought home the bacon. I don't want that life. I'm incapable of it."
"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You could do it if you wanted to."
"That's the thing: I don't want to and even if I did want to, I wouldn't want to build that sort of life with you. You're still an asshole and I don't want to be responsible for the next generation of Morelli delinquents. I mean, think about it. The fact that you're the best of the bunch but it was still so fucking easy for people to believe that you were a dirty prostitute murdering, drug running cop says it all. Thanks but no thanks, man. I'd rather sew it shut. Now, is there anything else you want to talk to me about? No? Okay, bye."
"Stephanie…"
"The answer is no and unless you want me to taze you again, you need to accept that."
"I'll accept it but don't think I'll be waiting around when Manoso gets done with you, though."
"Oh, no…my poor wittle heart is broken and all of my hopes and dreams just died. Fuck off, pig."
I put my white tiger print Dre Beats headphones over my ears and turned my Gym playlist back on, the 90s classic of the Spice Girls' Wannabe providing an amusing soundtrack for Morelli stalking like an enraged bull back inside the Precinct. It would be around the Burg within the hour that I had turned him down flat but I don't give a fuck.
Okay, I do but only because he'll be sure to tell everyone that'll listen I'm thirsty for Ranger. I'm so thirsty for Ranger, despite him being so much of mystery and a bad guy (funny how he wasn't bad when he was helping me save his sorry ass from the hoosegow...), that I turned him down, the Bad Boy turned Good Cop, the best of all Morelli sons, and all of that jazz.
I don't want Ranger to think that I'm a fan girl or a bimbo just trying to get in his pants or his wallet. I'd certainly like to get in his pants but I don't need his wallet. I just want him to be my Mentor and my friend and maybe my lover later on if he's interested, which he probably isn't.
He isn't, damn it!
No way in hell would a guy like Ranger want a broad like me, even just for a one off!
No way in hell would a guy like Ranger want me to be his girlfriend, lover, wife!
No way, no how, no dice!
It just doesn't work like that, not with me, anyway!
This is not a Katherine Heigl rom-com or a modern day Jane Austin novel!
This is the real life, not just fantasy, and I know that Ranger doesn't want me.
He doesn't.
So what if he listens to what I have to say? That's just him being a decent human being.
So what if he talks to me about personal things? That's just him establishing a friendship.
So what if he calls me Babe? I bet he has plenty of Babes in his life, past and present.
So what if he looks at my ass and my tits, sometimes? I have wonderful tits and my ass isn't bad either. I mean, why else would have Richard been so determined to stick his cock up it to the point of cheating on me with Joyce Barnyard when I wouldn't let him?
Okay, Richard cheated on me because he was an unfaithful lying scum sucking bastard but that's beside the point. That's the past and I'm not looking to dwell in the past anymore.
It's all about the present and presently, I can tell anyone that'll listen that yes, I'm thirsty for Ranger Manoso and yes, it's pathetic but it'll never go anywhere. It's just a pie in the sky, world's about to end if it ever happened fantasy and that's how it'll stay. Okay? Okay.
Of course, I'm musing about all of this while reapplying my lipstick as I wait for him to pick me up and while giddy bird sized fizzing butterflies flutter in my stomach because I get to see him.
Ugh, I'm such a fucking loser…