In last chapter, Bass walked up to Connor, as Charlie confronted him not much later. Their stand of was intense, as emotions that they both tried to push out rushed back into a heated argument. Many months later, those feelings rushed back, as Bass watched her handprint in blood on a tent canvas, as he caught her in his arms, as he went down with her to the ground, kneeled with her on his lap, as he finally heard what she said over and over. His name.

Chapter two Going back

Present,

Ranger camp,

Austin

'Is this him?' his eyes were steal, as his voice was a low contained growl. Many who knew and heard about Sebastian Monroe, knew that this was him at his most dangerous.

'Yes sir.' An officer nodded at him.

Bass' eyes turned to the man roped against a pole in the middle of the tent.

'Leave.' He barked.

After he watched Charlie disappear into the hangar where they would work on her, his whole face had twisted into grim lines. He told Blanchard they would have to find the fucking asshole.

The image of the asshole that dared to walk in, unseen. The image of a gasping Charlie as she got stabbed left him enraged, one of the many that kept his intense contained rage going. He had looked at each and every Texan officer, telling them with no misinterpretation that no one would get some fucking sleep before the attacker was found.

He had not said a word, as he had walked in. Bend down, to watch the man straight in his eyes. Waited. Moved around him. And then, ended the son of a bitch, his neck cracking. Leaving the tent, the flap rustling shut behind him. Now he had to find her, be with her. Be with his brother.

Bass watched her, as the camp had been on lock down. The brutal attack now two days away. Not only taking her, but Rachel too, who was recovering, her wound not as deep and well placed as they did on Charlie. Her eyelashes on her cheeks.

Asleep, but alive, alive, on a cot.

Both Miles and him had stretched themselves into the impossible. Dark fears crawling to them from the shadows they always lay.

Once he had gathered Charlie up in his arms, he had watched her, his name was a plea to not leave her. Her eyes just as hollow and unlike the woman he loved, he grew to love so very fucking much. Because there was no option of denial anymore. He did. Maybe in a pre black out world, knowing so fucking sure how you felt was a process that was slower. But now, where they had gone into day after long day, together, he had known it.

He felt the spark of no return when she had looked past what other people saw, and asked her mother, of all people she had to ask her family, which he was responsible for taking so much from, save his life. His life. Worthy in her eyes to save. He had said to Blanchard he was back by popular demand, not doing justice how deep he felt for her. He had pushed it the hell away, only to feel it push back in his face when he watched her, going limp in his arms.

Rachel was asleep against the left edge of the couch in the corner. The last two days had been hell. Waiting, hoping, a Miles who had been on his last legs. Miles being torn by relieve that the woman he loved was still alive, but that the girl he rebuild himself for, was still there, fighting to stay, as both men were beside her.

They stayed with her, all of her in the small room in the back of another hangar, the one they used for high ranking officers and the set up improvised hospital. A soft oil lamp light spread through the room.

He watched Charlie, remembering the day she had been just as hollow and far away from him as she was now.

6 weeks ago,

Austin

'Where the hell have you been?' Bass grabbed his brother by the arm, as his nerves were on edge. He had been waiting with Connor on the pavement way too damn long. They had been waiting too fucking long to get out. When the city around them was chaos, initiated by Miles' firing that gun after the cadet tried to shoot Carver, he knew they had to go back to their wagon. Move out of here. Miles had disappeared.

'There have been a few bumps in the road.' His brother sounded out of breath.

He should have known by his tone and choice of words that there had been trouble.

That's when he noticed. That's when he saw it.

Later he would hear his brother's words again. Knowing his brother had a flair for choosing words, but this one was the fucking understatement of eternity..

'We have got to get out of here now.' Bass took the lead as watched the form of her, next to the jacket of his brother.

'Where is the Neville kid?'

A strip of her stomach, freshly covered with a paint brush of blood. Her body next to Miles, but her eyes on the ground before her. Blood from her nose, blood on her god forsaken soaked tanktop, blood touching her lips, as she let out a breath ,like she was reliving something, as her eyes were dejected, her honey blond hair framing a devastated face.

She couldn't look at him, but he could only look at her.

And he knew, with shock numbing him, that the Neville kid would not be there. Not anymore. Images of him attacking Charlie, images of what she had do to, and the most fucking horrible image of all, Charlie in front of him, right now, making him stand there, eyes wide, next to Miles as he watched her, broken away from Charlie, from how he had experienced her before.

Numbness faded as Miles kept Charlie's left upper arm in a firm lock.

They ran. His eyes roaming the streets, looking for a way out. His eyes on the street, on the Rangers, some of them on horses through chaotic street. Hoping they would come through, as they would hopefully blend in with the others, moving away from the town square of Austin.

His mind on the task ahead, but his heart with her.

That night

Bass watched Charlie, and hell, it was looking at how he felt himself, that night they had reached Philly again.

Philly. The chopper had touched down. Gun wound in his side. Jeremy shoulder to shoulder when they had walked back into his chambers in Philly. The image of Emma, sweet Emma, so fucking real. Emma, he had kissed her, a last goodbye, before she, the town, his memories, it all had to go, his home town, in Jasper. Where summer days, his family and Miles' friendship had just existed. Emma, who he held at gunpoint to fuck with Miles, her golden red hair close.

And just like that, Connor had been there, a reveal of a son, of a kid out there. Years lost, years gone, had made him forget Miles, the gun in his hand lowering without even realising. And then, she had forcefully been drawn into him, as she was hit by a bullet that was not even for her. He had wanted to shield her, protect her as he had opened fire to the place the deadly bullet came from, shooting without seeing through his tears that had had been blurring his vision. His men had dragged him away, grabbing him by his arms, away from her, the last pure and good thing from his home dead. As he did not want to leave her behind, wanting to hold her, touch her hair, begging her to come back, talk about his family he had. The mother of his child, his first love, on the square he had kissed her, watched her in Miles' arms as he had feelings for her herself.

His men had moved him into the chopper that had taken off with high sounds as he had clenched his jaws to stop the fucking tears from falling.

His mind fading out, moving back to Miles, who sat beside her, Connor leaning against a wall not far away from them in the dark dimed living room. He had watched the blood, running from her nose. He watched marks that were born in the room with that Neville kid, as they still did not know what had happened, but they knew that Jason Neville was gone.

He knew the nightmares would come. He knew the guilt was already there, lingering in her. He knew how hollow she felt, how much she wasn't feeling, how much she was feeling fucking everything.

Charlie could only stare. Every time her mind touched what happened, she felt a constricting panic and fear and feeling she was about do disappear, so she just sat still, hoping her mind would not go there as long as she sat still. The day and night surreal around her. The crust of his blood against her belly. A room that went darker, Connor somewhere on her right. Miles' stubble to her right. She had felt Connor's eyes on her, she had felt him stare next to Connor. Shock and burning blue, as it was Miles that held her up on her feet, dragging her along when all she wanted to do was sit.

Her tank was still soaked, but she would not let anyone near, and he was not sure she brought an extra one. Her eyes were empty, heavy eyelids, as she did not speak, or moved, or threw something smartass in their faces, or was just there. Connor nodded at him, giving him a cup of water. Bass took it, looking at the ground before him as he felt the tension rise in his jaws and neck. He made eye contact with Miles as he kneeled down before Charlie. There was still room between her knees and his but he gently moved forwards, not wanting to startle her with any unexpected movements.

He slowly moved to her hands, as he took on in his hand. It felt motionless as his skin touched hers. Fuck. He kept on going, putting the cup against her hand, using his free hand to wrap her other hand around it.

Charlie saw him, calm and gentleness that was so different. A raw contrast to the man that was normally there. His hands, so large, strong, warm around hers, as she felt the cool of the cup of water. Drinking water felt so useless, but both Miles and Bass kept her where she did not want to be. So she slowly moved the rim of the cup to her lips, as she took a sip. And then another. Bass moved one hand to her right, as it found its place around her knee in a gentle matter of letting her know she was not deserted, as he sat crouched down before her.

One look at his brother told him, they both knew, that they both wanted to spare her from this. That either one, should have been there, making the decision, she had to make now.

Miles looked straight ahead, as he sat down next to Charlie. Her eyes staring so hard, but mirrored in them the fear in his bones as he had once said, that he did not wanted her to turn into some version of him. More guilt crept up on him.

Miles had tucked her in, covering a blanket over her, as she lay there. Eyes closed. Eyes open. Miles had fallen asleep for a bit, so had Connor. He hadn't. She shifted. Late, or early, as the dark sky outside lingered around their camp for the night. Nightmares moved into staring, into dark, into losing herself.

Charlie did not know if she could bear it, any longer.

And then, he was with her. At the moment she had thought she would lose from and into the darkness. Monroe. Sitting next to her, his arms pressing down around her, as he gently moved her towards him. In his lap now, his strong legs under her, his chest for her to lean into, as he held her there, a place for her against his shoulder.

She listened to the room around her. The scent of his skin close, and she weirdly, from a distance, realised who was holding her. She watched the laces from his boots, down there on the ground and then she turned.

Bass felt her move, as he guided her towards him. He knew it, the moment she fell asleep.

He watched Miles, now watching them, his dark eyes felt with pain for his niece. With her against his chest, his arms under her knees, her resting aginst his shoulders and arms, like had done before on that night when he had moved her away from the bar, he slowly moved her back to her sleeping bag. Lay beside her.

For once, Miles was not an asshole, as his brother watched them sleep. Thankful for the fact that Bass was there, now he had no fucking clue how he would get his niece through this.

Charlie felt how he moved her, as for once , she let him take over the reins as she felt the pull of the weight of Jason and the gravity under her. She felt the floor under her, as Bass placed her slowly on the sleeping roll, the scruff of his beard momentarily touching her. Behind her, she felt Bass. Next to her, Miles. Connor had first watch, as she could feel his eyes on her, as Connor had watched her before on the street, empathy, realisation in his eyes.

She fell asleep again, woke up again.

The nightmares would come, Jason was still dead. Guilt was starting to replace the shock. But she was not alone.

As she lay there, in the dark silent room of their safe house for the night.

Feeling Miles' upper arm against her forehead, as she moved closer to him and the scent of his jacket, she knew by heart now, was comforting, close. Bass close, his jacket against the line of her side, as her hand found him, as his hand was there, close for her. She did not have to ask, or wait. It was there, to slide hers in the warm lock of his fingers. He closed his fingers around her and never let it go.

Present,

Ranger Camp Austin

Miles walked up to Bass. Bass looked up at his long life friend, as both man watched out over Charlie.

They shared a flask, as they shared a lonely hour in the night. his kid there in his memory, but not here anymore as he had chosen a different path Bass had not wanted to follow him on.

Bass' mind was haunting him, with memories. That day at the river when she had overheard them, as he talked to Connor. Do you want to bang that. I don't care. That. After he had spoken the words, lashing out at her, hearing how pathetic he sounded, hell, he had known truly, how pissed he was. The first thing was something that was still filling him with shame, the second one a lie.

The two things that had been kicking and screaming in his mind afterwards in his head.

What did Vegas cost her?

And why the hell did he felt like he was missing something when she had put in his face that he had screwed her mom as a reminder that her business was her own after he had confronted her about her and Connor?

Her eyes.

Her eyes, you moron. You idiot.

He rubbed his face as the answer was right there.

It was right at that moment that Charlotte finally opened her eyes.

Thanks for reading everyone! By now, you have found the three deleted scenes. I used as a basis for this story. In next chapter, we will move on with the story. Hope you enjoyed this? Until the next chapter! Love from Love