If you recognize them, I can't take the credit. :) And a big thanks to Margaret once again for reading ahead and pointing out my flaws.

Chapter 9 — Opening Day

Hector's POV

I was excited, today was opening day at Citi Field. It was the Mets versus the Nationals and Juan Lagares had just hit a solo home run for us to take the lead when I felt a presence behind me. A knife was pressed over my right kidney.

"Mañoso's asshole. What are you doing here?"

I wasn't sure who it was, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

He pushed the point of the knife in a bit, I was sure it was enough to draw blood, before he spoke again.

"I saw you and your bitch with Moreno the other morning. You guys fucking with us?"

Once again I said nothing, but the people around me were starting to notice. Jorge flashed me a look. I gave him an imperceptible nod to back off, I wanted to know who I was dealing with before I acted. Between my own skills and the extra training I got from Maryann White, I could disarm him and have that knife in his jugular before he even knew what was happening.

I'd gotten off with just a slap on the wrist when I killed Kraven's toy in Trenton, but that was because the TPD knew who I was. I didn't think the 5-0 in Queens would be as accommodating but if he shanked me one more time, I'd turn the tables on him.

"You hear me motherfucker?" he whispered before cutting into me a little harder. I knew I was bleeding but I had witnesses, so fuck the 5-0. I turned around, used a hip flick to disarm him and had the knife to his neck. I was about to shank him, when Jorge and Ignacio pulled us apart.

Jorge whispered in my ear, "Don't do it man, it'll be an all out war."

"¿Quién eres?" I asked my attacker who he was now that we were face to face.

He spit at me and before I did anything I'd live to regret, Ignacio had him on the ground and slammed his face into the cement floor of the box we had.

Shit. I looked up at the big screen over the stadium and we were being broadcast live. The video quickly moved to another box but not before the stadium rent-a-cops were on us. Well so much for keeping my presence here a secret. Twenty million viewers just saw my face and probably a bit of the altercation. I figured Bobby and Ashley would be here shortly. I looked towards the door of the box. I was wrong, they were here now. Bobby was talking to one of the rent-a-cops and showing ID and Ashley was walking towards me.

"Hector you're bleeding, do you need to go to the ER?"

"He cut me, but I don't tink he did much damage, I probably need a stitch. Bobby have his medical bag with him?"

"He has one in the car, but you are dripping blood. I think we should have you looked it."

"I'll put compression on it. I'll be ok for a few hours. I need to stay for the rest of the game. We're winning."

I noticed two of the rent-a-cops taking my assailant away. Bobby and the third came over.

"Jorge, Ignacio," he acknowledged my friends. The four of us had spent many a Met's game together. "No charges against you guys, they caught him with the knife. Hector, let me see your back, you're bleeding profusely."

I lifted my shirt, but the cut was lower. I was not going to drop my draws in the middle of Citi Field. Bobby pulled me into the private restroom off our box and made me unbuckle and shimmy down my jeans which were blood soaked and beginning to stick to me.

"Jesus Hec, he cut you in a circle. Your skin is hanging by a flap. Use your shirt and put pressure on the area while I go down to my car. I'll be back in ten. I'm going to have to numb the area to clean it up. And if I think you need to go to the ER don't fight me on this."

I wasn't going...but we'd deal with that later. I placed my shirt over the cut, pulled my pants back up and secured the whole mess using my jacket as a tourniquet. I hoped Bobby had a change of clothes in his car, I didn't think it would be too smart to get on the subway with blood all over me. And probably by the time I made it to Amtrak someone would have called the cops.

I was just about to go back out and sit in the outside seating area of our luxury box and watch the game until Bobby got back when there was a knock on the men's room door. Shit. I hoped no one had to take a crap, there was blood all over the place. I tentatively opened the door. It was Bobby and Ashley.

"Ashley went down to the car and got my bag while I was checking you over. She's going to help me clean you up and stitch you together. You don't mind, do you?"

Of course I minded, but I knew Ashley would be professional about this. She was with Bobby and she was one of our lawyers, so I nodded and let them enter. I just hoped no one had to take a piss for the next twenty minutes or so. Fuck 'em, they could use the ladies room. Chicks were always using the men's room when it wasn't occupied.

I noticed that Ashley brought jeans, a T-shirt and a windbreaker with her too. Bless her. I knew I could rely on Bobby to have extra clothes in his car.

Bobby had me strip again and used my blood soaked clothes to make a wedge under me, I guessed for comfort. Unfortunately the bathroom floor wasn't comfortable. Both of them put on gloves and Bobby took a bottle of sterilized water out of his bag and doused the area. He had Ashley apply pressure to the wound while he gave me a shot of lidocaine. He let the area numb for a few minutes before he got out his peroxide and cleaned me up. He was mumbling something about a dirty blade so I didn't fight him on it. He finally opened a suture kit. I could feel tugging as he stitched, but little else.

"You're lucky he didn't shank you deeper. This is just superficial but it could have been life threatening. Keep it clean. And maybe you want to clean up a bit before going back out, you look pretty scary."

Ashley giggled. I didn't find it funny. I'd perfected scary.

Ranger's POV

I got a call from Bobby that Hector had been stabbed by one of the Latin Kings. We didn't have a name yet, but the guy had been taken into custody so we'd have a name soon...or a moniker that we'd be able to trace.

I wasn't sure how bad he'd been cut, but I had to let Steph know; after all she was supposed to be heading down to Miami tomorrow with Hector. Depending on how bad it was, I might have to take his place. Bobby would have a shit storm over that one. He hated being in charge even more than Tank did. Maybe Santos could help him out. Or maybe I'd do them both a favor and send Santos to Miami with Steph; Bobby did save Hec's life.

Steph was lying on the couch, watching television in the den. The room was dark except for the illumination from the LED screen. I walked in and sat down next to her. I picked her up and readjusted her onto my lap. We both enjoyed being as close as humanly possible whenever we were alone together. I was playing with her curls absentmindedly until the show was over since I didn't want to disturb her concentration.

"Carlos, what's up? You never just sit and watch mindless TV with me," she said during one of the commercial breaks.

"We can talk when this is over."

She got up on her elbow, turned around and looked at me.

"Something's happened, tell me now," she said, reaching for the remote and turning off the screen.

"Let's go into the kitchen, I'll make you some hot chocolate and we can talk."

"Carlos. Tell me now."

"Over hot chocolate Babe. Trust me."

She didn't protest so I took her hand and led her into the kitchen. I broke up half of the chocolate bar that was in the refrigerator while Steph watched me intently. I knew she'd probably want to eat the other half while I made her cocoa, but I decidedly wrapped it in foil, placed it in a small ziplock and put it back into the refrigerator. I took out the 1% milk I reserve for her and a saucepan. I heated the milk to just about a simmer, then took it off the stove and added the chocolate pieces. I let it sit for a minute while I found a whisk, then whisked the mixture until it was smooth. I added a little vanilla extract, stirred it again and then handed it to Stephanie in a mug. It was the way my grandmother made hot chocolate and I thought it tasted better than any of those artificial mixes.

I watched closely as she took a sip.

"Oh God, this is good," she moaned. Shephanie really enjoys her sweets so I was glad she approved.

I let her take a few more sips before I sat down next to her and took her hand.

"Babe, Hector got cut tonight by a Latin King who thought he and Raphael were trying to cause friction within their gang. Bobby was there and stitched him up. He's going to be ok."

"How did that happen? He went to a baseball game."

"Hector is passionate about baseball and he somehow acquired season tickets in the Pepsi corporate suite with a few of his friends from Newark. Bobby sometimes joins them, but tonight he took Ashley and she wanted to sit in the bleachers. Hector's assault was televised as the cameras panned through the outside seating of the private boxes. Bobby saw it on the big screen and he and Ashley went to his aid."

"Is he ok? How did they find him?"

"He's ok. Bobby just texted me that they're taking him back to Trenton. The cameras regularly pan the boxes; celebrities sit there. I'm sure he was onscreen more than once. This dude probably saw him and went upstairs to make mischief. Bobby thinks he intended to skin him, but didn't cut all the way through so at least there was something to stitch," I saw her wince at that one. I wasn't going to sugar-coat the story, she'd find out the truth and would be angry with me for leaving out details.

"Will he be ok to fly tomorrow?

"Bobby wants to look at him again in the morning. It wasn't deep but he cut through the epidermal layer. It could get infected and Bobby thinks the shank was dirty. He's going to ok him to fly as long as he checks in with our Miami medic. It's your job to make sure he does."

She nodded as if she accepted the challenge. I sure hoped so, the two of them were headstrong and listened to nothing but their own internal musings.

Stephanie's POV

Hector had sent me a picture of Maria Padilla Quiñones before he left for the game. She was a pretty woman, who looked to be in her late twenties. She had long dark hair and eyelashes I'd kill for. I was looking at her picture again as I packed a few days worth of clothes. Good thing I had most of my summer wardrobe here at the house. We had a nine o'clock NetJets flight out of Monmouth Executive and Carlos was going to drive me to the airport which was only ten minutes away; Bobby was bringing Hector from Trenton. He didn't want him doing anything that might open his stitches, and that included carrying a bag. I was pretty sure that was going to go over real well with Hector.

My phone buzzed just as I compressed everything into my suitcase. It was the man himself.

"How do you tink it feels to have someone carry your bag for you? Good ting no one saw Bobby take my gym bag from my apartment. I'm not taking a lot of clothes; it weighed nothing. The indignity. You understand, don't you Estefania?"

I did.

"I'm sorry Hector, I'm sure it's only because he cares. Did he say it was ok for you to fly?"

"Sí, we got that part over with earlier. This was harder. I had to pretend I forgot someting and went back inside for it while he took my bag down to the car. I'd never live it down if anyone saw us."

Hector had a lot of pride. I was going to have my hands full.