"I swear to God, I've never been so happy to see this shit-hole city in my LIFE!" Lester Santos crowed as the small plane he was in touched down in Newark, New Jersey. He was finally home, and never had a homecoming been so sweet.

Eighty-three days. That was the amount of time he'd been separated from the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to make his wife. Missions used to make him feel alive – the adrenaline, the skillset he didn't often get to use, the quiet, covert honor he felt had been mostly absent. His focus had been on completing the mission, not just to fulfill an obligation but so he could get home to Giana. At just a hair shy of twelve weeks without her, he was chomping at the proverbial bit to see her again.

Ranger smiled indulgently at his cousin before saying, "They change everything, don't they?", and even he had to laugh when Lester whooped and bounced in his seat. Yes, indeed, Stephanie and Giana had reduced two career warriors to giggling school boys, fraught with glee at the proximity of their women. They were finally home.

After seventy-eight days in the sandbox, they'd completed their mission. The debriefing in Washington had been relatively smooth, but had taken three entire days to complete. They'd been allowed a single phone call to arrange transport from Newark airport, and Ranger had used it to call Tank with their flight time and instructions not to let anyone know they were back; they'd mutually agreed that they wanted to surprise the girls. Ranger also informed Tank that both he and Les were offline until further notice.

Now, at just after 10pm, they were back on terra firma and strolling toward a grinning Tank.

"Welcome back, gentlemen." The big man offered his hand first to Ranger, pulling him into a bear hug before doing the same to Lester. "Glad to see the ragheads weren't shooting ugly guys over there this time," he boomed, his wide grin matching theirs.

Ranger waited until they were belted into the waiting SUV before barking, "Report." at his second in command. Tank grinned, happy to have order restored in his world.

"Women are fine. Had a little…adventure earlier this week, but no injuries. I'll let them fill you in." Tank only managed to get halfway through his opening before snorting back a laugh. Ranger and Les exchanged a curious glance as Tank chuffed from the front, cleared his throat, and continued with official RangeMan business. Les settled back, watching the scenery and planning, in acute detail, his reunion with Giana.

They made it back to the building on Haywood in just under an hour, and after a quick call into the control room to determine that Stephanie was up on seven, Ranger hopped out of the SUV and strode purposefully into the elevator without another word to his companions.

A grinning Tank slid out of the SUV and held the door open for Lester. "Just got a text from the control room that she's home, has been all evening. See you when I see you." Les flashed his own happy smile before climbing into the driver's seat and maneuvering out of the parking garage. As he rocketed toward Gia's, all thoughts were fixed on her – would she cry? How had she fared in his absence? Lester wanted to saturate his mind and body with his woman, and by God he was going to do it NOW.

As he rounded the last corner before reaching her house, he was dismayed to see the lane blocked off with slowly flashing yellow lights atop several road cones. By the looks of it, there'd been a water main break under the street recently. Either that or Ranger's latest Porsche is toast, he thought with a grin. He cheerfully parked the black SUV on the curb and exited, moving swiftly to cover the half block to Gia's driveway. He was so close he could taste it….

He approached the tall remnants of the cordgrass that hugged the ends of her small driveway and slowed his gait, confused; her porch was bathed in the light pouring from her living room windows. It was nearly 11pm on a weeknight in early April and there was still a nip in the air when the sun was down; was she waiting for someone? His old insecurities bubbled to the surface before he pushed them down – this was Giana. She was steady and faithful. She was not Michelle.

A few more faltering steps, now slower and more cautious than before, revealed two figures on the porch. Lester felt his breath catch as he froze, unable to process the sight before him.

There sat Gia – his Gia – curled into the side of another man. The shared the narrow gliding bench and swayed together, back and forth, back and forth. Her head rested on his shoulder, and his head was tipped back as he spoke in low tones to her. From this distance, Lester could see that the man was dark-skinned and wore trendy black-framed glasses. He could also see that their hands were clasped together.

Training took over and Lester immediately began cataloging the threat as he stood in stunned disbelief. Dark skinned…glasses…where had he seen this man before?

Realization hit him in a dozen fatal slivers – this was the ex. The investor boyfriend with the foreign name, the one that she'd laughingly revealed dumped her for a 'bigger set of boobs'. Lester had come across his photograph in Giana's album months ago, back when there was a threat of gang retaliation for being associated with Hector, and now she was here with him, late at night, curled together looking every bit the happy couple.

Rejection hit him squarely in the chest; he felt his legs sag and had to squat on his heels, narrowly avoiding landing on his knees. He was, somewhere deep in his cracking chest, faintly determined not to be brought to his knees by another whore.

How did I get here again? he thought, dazedly. The bile that coated his throat threatened to erupt, and he breathed deeply and concentrated on not vomiting.

Again, again, again…a litany in his head, over and over, drowned out the faint sound of Giana's voice. She was speaking in a soft, urgent tone, though he couldn't make out the words. No matter; she wasn't his problem anymore. Swallowing back the smarting hurt he felt, Lester forced himself upright. After a few minutes of deep breathing, he felt his pulse slow to normal and his stomach settle, and he spared a final glance at Giana. The last woman to ever fuck me over, he thought bitterly. He turned to walk back to the car, increasing his speed gradually until he was pounding the sidewalk with his boots. He felt terror nipping at his heels and wondered, briefly, what the hell he was running from.

Reaching the car, he fumbled the handle and cursed silently, digging in his pockets for the key he thought he'd have no need for this soon. Once in hand, he unlocked the car and slammed the door shut, the sound of his ragged, gasping breath amplified in the quiet of the SUV. He could feel the first coils of panic licking at the raw, gaping hole in his chest – fuck, I can't do this, not now. If I start now, I'll never stop. His desperation to avoid the monumentally crushing pain caused the recesses of Lester's subconscious to take charge, and he paused while he began to formulate a plan.

A moment later, a much calmer Lester stepped out of the vehicle. With grim determination, he unlatched the hood and rooted around the big car's engine for a moment before emerging with a small black box. He tossed it carelessly in the closest patch of grass and slammed the hood; RangeMan wouldn't be able to track his location in the SUV without it. He climbed back into the SUV and, with unfeeling eyes, scanned his reflection in the rearview mirror. A cold, mirthless smirk appeared on his face; yes, indeed, he still looked good enough to put paid to his new agenda for the evening. Lester Santos had never had trouble attracting female attention, and he was counting on attracting plenty tonight. He knew from past experience how welcome a distraction they could be.

Lester moved through the dance floor of the club he was in, the first he'd come across since fleeing her house. His trance-like, unwavering stare gave several people pause, but no one stopped him. He weaved in and out of the throngs of dancing club patrons, looking for an opportunity to right his world.

He found it in the form of a scantily clad 21 year old who introduced herself as Mona. Yeah, sure, thought Les, though he didn't comment. He didn't care if her name was Mona or Susie or Lorna-freaking-Doone; he wasn't here to make 'Mona's' acquaintance or to form a bond with her. Lester had entered the club with a sole purpose in mind – to bury himself in a warm body and bury the pain lurking just under the surface. He knew it was there, though a pleasant numbness was the only thing he currently felt. He remembered how it was when Michelle had defected, when he'd found out she'd been unfaithful; he also knew, instinctively, that the pain of Giana's betrayal was going to be infinitely more far-reaching and permanent.

After a few minutes of sexually charged banter, Lester led Mona to a single-occupancy bathroom and pushed her inside. He followed suit a few minutes later and pushed her face against the wall, handling her breasts with rough hands. Her short, harsh pants told him that she likedhis rough touch. Spinning her around, he ground his erection into the crease between her thighs, ignoring the emotionless stare his reflection cast back at him. Mona slid her hands into his shorts and pumped him with a skilled hand; Lester had rightly guessed he wasn't the first man to proposition her in a club, nor was he the first she'd acquiesced to. His fast orgasm, muted by his deeply felt misery, burst forth only minutes later. He stood, gasping, not breaking his own eye contact in the mirror. Is this what you need? Really? Haven't you moved beyond all of this? A soft, sorrowful voice, sounding eerily like Giana's, chided him. Abruptly, and ignoring Mona's protests, he zipped up and ran from the restroom and moments later, out the front doors.

Standing in the parking lot, shivering in the sudden chill, he had one very clear thought – fuck, this is going to hurt. He was immediately confused; what would hurt? Her betrayal, or his retribution? He wasn't sure, and honestly, he was too mind-fucked to care right now.

He was jarred from his introspection by a voice. "Hey, baby, why so sad? A man like you, looking like that…it's practically a crime."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the line, Lester forced a sexy smile onto his face and turned his head to the right. There stood not one, but two cheaply dressed women. Stomachs pulled in, breasts pushed out, dresses cut to an indecent length, they stood before him. Both pouted sexily, tongues darting out to wet their bottom lips as they expertly preened in front of him. Their arms were linked and they rubbed against each other, subtly, as they exchanged a quick, sexually charged glance.

This'll do, Lester thought with grim determination. A harsh, almost sinister smile played about his beautifully shaped lips as he turned his body and stalked toward his prey.

Giana arrived at Rangeman just as the day was dawning. She was eager to check in with Bobby and Tank to see if there'd been any word about the mission and see if she could pin down Stephanie to work on their sparring. The only thing keeping her distracted from missing Lester these days was company, and she'd been sad to see her houseguest leave before daybreak.

Exiting the elevator, she bid Ram a cheerful good morning. He looked up from the monitors and didn't return the greeting, instead looking at her with his face carefully devoid of emotion. A white-hot flash of fear shot through her – was it Lester? Did the guys get word on his mission? Swallowing back her unease, she quickened her pace a bit before breaking into a jog, the entire time praying; Please let him be okay, please let him be alive.

Moments later, she burst into the medical suite calling Bobby's name. He hurried out of his office, the sound of terror in her voice and her very presence alarming him – why wasn't she with Lester? Oh, God, Lester…

"Is Les okay?" Their simultaneous question gave them both pause – her in confusion, him in concern.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Gia asked shakily. Her panicked expression and tear-filled eyes only served to spike the worry Bobby felt at her first question.

Carefully, he asked the most obvious question. "Isn't he with you?"

Gia's goldfish impression answered his question, and Bobby cursed silently; where the fuck was Lester? He'd arrived home late last night, of that he was certain – Tank notified him when he got the call from Ranger that they were on their way home. His inbox held an email from Tank, written in the same terse manner the man spoke in, sent around midnight last night; Ranger on seven, Lester at Giana's. Both offline.

"Bobby…." Her wavering voice interrupted his rapidly churning mind and he shot her an apologetic look.

"Sorry," he murmured, "just thinking." Bobby stepped forward and took her hand in his, tugging her out of the medical suite. He didn't release her once they were in the hallway, and she trailed helplessly behind him. "What's happening?" she asked pitifully.

Bobby stopped and turned to face her. "Les came home last night. Tank sent me a message that Ranger was on seven and Les was on his way to your house. You're saying he didn't come by?"

"No! Oh God, do you think he was in an accident or something?" Giana's voice cracked at the end and the first sob broke through. Bobby hugged her tightly and said, "I don't think so, but let's go check the monitors. The SUVs have trackers in them; we can find out where the car is and hopefully figure this out."

He released her and they set off for the monitors at a dead run, skidding to a halt in front of Ram.

"I need you to get a location on the SUV Tank took to the airport last night. Lester's driving it and we can't find him." Bobby barked as soon as the desk came into sight.

Ram stood slowly, as though trying to prolong an unpleasant task. "Sir, Lester is in the building. I believe he's in his apartment."

The unexpected update floored Bobby, and a quick glance at Giana showed an equally stunned expression.

"Thanks." Bobby threw over his shoulder as he took Gia's hand and hurried her toward the bank of elevators, intent on checking on his friend's well-being.

"Sir!" Ram barked behind him, the volume of his voice enough to give Bobby pause. He shot an enquiring look behind him as Gia hit the button that would take them to the fourth floor apartments and was met with a panic stricken Ram.

"Sir, I don't think it's a good idea for you to –" Bobby cut Ram's urgent plea off at the knees, barking, "I'm the company medic; if anyone needs any type of care, it's my duty to provide that." With a last withering glare, the doors opened and Bobby ushered Giana into the waiting elevator, leaving a pale Ram behind them.

Giana held tightly to Bobby's hand while exiting the elevator, steeling herself for whatever she might find in Lester's apartment; Bobby had explained, very quickly, that sometimes missions could be emotionally damaging to the men, and that he suspected Lester might be having a hard time 'coming down' and had shut himself in his apartment. Her trepidation was stifling, a panic that could only be sated by knowing Lester was okay. She'd spent weeks preparing herself for the possibility that he may come home damaged, that the strain of whatever he'd endured may have altered the man she loved, but the surety of her love for him overrode any fear.

What she was not prepared for was the sight she was greeted with in the hallway on the fourth floor as she stepped out of the elevator. Two women, both disheveled and obviously coming from one of the apartments, trailed behind Lester. His air was menacing and his shoulders tense, but that wasn't what caused Giana's heart to stutter in her chest. Lester's lips were swollen from kissing, his stance abrasive. He stared straight ahead with his jaw set in a tight line, refusing to meet Giana or Bobby's eyes. He stalked past them, ignoring their presence, with the two women trailing in his wake. They looked curiously at Gia and Bobby, neither pair speaking to the other, no one breaking the silence of the hallway. Lester waited at the elevator with an air of impatience for the women to board it, still studiously ignoring his girlfriend and best friend until the elevator arrived and the trio piled in.

The elevator doors sliding shut seemed to break whatever stupor Giana had been stuck in. Whirling, she dashed toward Lester's apartment and threw open his door, her only cognizant thought a steady string of No no no no no… running endlessly through her head. In his bedroom, she found the sheets in disarray, pillows thrown on the floor, and the musky scent of sex hanging in the air.

No no no no no…

Now on autopilot, she turned and tore past Bobby, down the hall, and barged into the bathroom. The litany of NONONONO… was louder now, more pronounced, and aside from the sound of her own heart pounding blood through her shaking body, she wasn't aware of anything other than Lester's bathroom trashcan. She could live here, in this quiet, safe space inside her head, as long as she didn't find…

With an anguished sob, Gia cupped her hands over her mouth and gave voice to the screaming babble in her head. "No, no, oh no…" Bile, hot and acrid, rose in her throat and cut off her cries. Lurching toward the toilet, an act born of instinct rather than purpose, she missed her mark and the first wave of vomit splattered over the seat and onto the floor. Strong arms wrapped around her torso and guided her so that the next emission landed squarely in the bowl, and for a few blessed moments, there wasn't room in Giana's mind to think of the two used condoms sitting in Les's trash can, and there wasn't room to mourn. There was only this all-encompassing physical act, this purging of her grief.

After a few more dry heaves, Giana calmed enough for Bobby to help her to the sink and turn the water on for her. Standing mutely next to Giana, he lined Lester's toothbrush with paste and handed it to her, allowing her a quiet moment to compose herself. She closed her lids as she scrubbed her teeth, unable to meet her own eyes in the mirror; surely, seeing the torment stamped across her face would shatter her, and she couldn't afford to fall apart. Not yet.

When she was finished a few moments later, she spit and dropped the toothbrush in the sink and, without opening her eyes, turned toward the bathroom door. It was only when she knew that seeing her own face in the mirror wasn't a possibility that she opened her eyes and began making her way out of the apartment, gritting her teeth together in a Herculean effort not to let herself fracture.

Her mind focused only on escaping to her home and licking her wounds in private, she didn't notice that Les was standing in his living room until she was almost on top of him. Brooding and impassive, he stared at her with not even a hint of love in his eyes, and it was this that broke her resolve.

The sob she'd been holding onto ripped through her clenched teeth with a life of its own, the tears now flowing freely. Words escaped her; the pain too fresh, too gaping and raw, to grasp and verbalize. All she could do was cry.

Lester only continued to stare, unmoved by her tears and uncaring for her pain, watching another woman who had pretended to love him gear herself up to talk about her 'regret'. It was a song he'd heard sung before, first by his mother and then by his former fiancé. Fuck her. End it, now.

"You can save it." Lester deadpanned. He wasn't interested in hearing her excuses or her apologies; she'd shown him all he needed to know when she ran to her ex the minute Lester was out of the country.

Gia took a fortifying breath, digging deep to get out the only question she had for him. "Why?" she croaked, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Why?" Les laughed mirthlessly, subconsciously cataloging Bobby's presence and ignoring it for now. It was better that Bobby be here for this; he'd understand when it all came out. "Because you're a whore. Because you are no better than that bitch who stole my grandfather's war medal or the one that abandoned me. Because I'm disgusted with myself for taking so long to sniff you out, and I let myself love you when you didn't deserve it." His voice rose steadily during his tirade, and by the end, he was screaming at her. His body was stiff, his fists balled, and he loomed over a cowering Giana.

His words, devoid of any hint of the love she'd come to trust, sluiced over her and channeled her pain, intensifying it beyond being bearable. When she resurfaced a moment later, she was on her leaning against the wall for support. The pain itself was visceral, squeezing her chest and shooting through her extremities. Those words, God, those words…coming from Lester, they maimed her and rendered her almost incapable of speech.

Almost.

"I…I never, not ever…would I…" She tried to speak between the heaving, panicked breaths she was taking, trying to piece together what he was saying in a brain so overrun with despair that it couldn't process the simplest of commands right now.

"I saw you." Les whispered, his voice full of vitriol. When she didn't respond and only blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes, he gathered his anger and erupted. "I. SAW. YOU." He screamed, the thick cords in his neck straining and the torment and the rage clear in his voice.

Giana flinched, assaulted by his words and his fury. Shaking her head, dumbly, she parroted, "You saw me?"

"At your house. With him. You were cuddling on the porch." Lester ground out, his words caked in enmity. "I went to you to ask you to fucking marry me, and you were playing house with your boyfriend while I was gone."

Gia sat, mouth open, eyebrows drawn together, her soft sobs dotting the silence that followed. Her whisper, thin as silk, floated across the room. "You were going to propose?" They stood, staring at each other. Giana flinched at the hatred pouring from his eyes, and he seethed at the sorrow flowing from hers.

Bobby's soft curse broke the silence and their gaze. Lester spared him a quick glance, noticing for the first time that Bobby looked extremely upset. Craving vindication, Lester took a deep breath and unleashed on Giana.

"I leave town and you run and hop on the first dick you can drum up. You ran to your ex, your fucking rich investor boyfriend. Or did he come to you? I know he was calling for awhile; did you tell him I was out of town and you needed a fuck? I know how greedy that pussy can be, baby; did you call him down and fall over with your legs in the air when he showed up? Did you let him fuck that pretty little mouth? I have to admit, you were fucking amazing with that mouth, I can't blame him for wanting more." He was babbling now, trying to inflict as much pain on her as he could; he needed her toaccept what she'd done, and he needed to hurt her as badly as she'd hurt him.

Understanding, shadowed by pain clouded her face as another body-wracking cry escaped her. Eyes closed, she took a gasping, pained breath and whispered, "That wasn't Ravi."

Lester heard her voice, heard exactly what came out of her mouth, but didn't flinch so much as an eyelash. What she said couldn't even register with him right now.

"What?"

She opened her eyes, and like a punch in the gut, Les was impaled by the sorrow pooled in them. She wiped a lone tear from her cheek and said, "The man you saw…it wasn't Ravi. That was Dev, my cousin. He came and stayed with me for a few days…he was having some trouble…" Her voice trailed off here, cut short by a fresh deluge of tears.

The urge to deny what she was saying battled with the need to believe that she hadn't betrayed him, after all. But if that were the case – if she'd been faithful and he was wrong…

"No." was the only thing that came from Lester. No movement, no change of inflection. His body stood, inert and unforgiving. His denial was less a plea and more a command, the first tongues of fear licking at him. No.

Giana's head dropped to her chest and she started to sob in earnest now, the full weight of what had been lost settling in and crushing her.

Lester spoke again, panic bleeding into his voice. "No." He looked at Bobby, searching his face, and grew increasingly more panic-stricken by what he saw. "Oh, no."

The animosity he'd been holding tightly to since he'd seen her wrapped in another man's arms evaporated, and Lester sank to his knees, his submissive posture now mirroring Giana's, both born from unbearable heartache and insurmountable grief. Lester's pulse, a pounding dirge, hammered in his ears as his hands rested on his thighs. He stared straight ahead, barely comprehending the crying woman crumpled a few yards from him, as horror and shame and regret filled him, leaving room for nothing else. It wasn't until Gia started trying to rise to her feet that the trance he was in broke.

"Please, please, baby, don't…" and because it was the natural forward movement, Lester began crawling toward her. It struck him how fitting this was; that he found himself in the proper position to beg and grovel, before he shoved the errant thought from his mind. "Gia, stay, I love you so, so much, you can't leave me…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was so wrong, please don't…." Lester babbled as he reached her and tried, desperately, to wrap his arms around her legs, effectively forcing her to stand still and not walk away. If she walked away…he couldn't finish that thought, even in the hypothetical. It gutted him, eviscerated his very soul, to think that she would not love him any longer.

Even as he pleaded and panicked, Gia was trying to extricate herself from his arms. He pawed, pathetically, and begged and mewled with increasing hysteria, but all she could focus on was the steadily growing need to run from this place and from the man who had broken her.

Finally, unable to watch any longer, Bobby intervened. He lifted her into his arms and hefted her up so he could hold her bridal style. Gia buried her face in the crook of Bobby's neck and let go. A high, keening wail filled the apartment, making Bobby's blood run cold; it was a lament, a mournful cry that spoke of loss and despair. He couldn't bring himself to look at his best friend, whose deeply rooted insecurities had allowed him to sabotage his own happiness, as he lay pleading with her from the floor.

All Bobby could do was turn and carry Giana away.

* A/n: if there was any confusion about the original characters mentioned, go back and read through Chapters 8 and 13. I know, when reading multiple stories, some story lines and OCs can be lost in the shuffle.

This was a time consuming chapter – I've been working on it, off and on, since around chapter 17. I knew what I wanted to say, so a million thanks to Proudofyoubabe for helping me to get it across as clearly as I wanted it. I'd genuinely love to hear how this chapter went over with everyone who read it - if you had a strong thought, one way or another, I would be grateful to hear it.