Stephanie

Vince listened as Ranger, Lester, and Bobby shared the details from our brief at Ranger's house. He got angry as the other men talked. Hearing someone share the story of Isabelle and Helen's involvement shocked him. Vince didn't know I got pregnant. I thought everyone knew. Helen wouldn't let me hang around my favourite cousin after my sexual encounter with Morelli.

"You were pregnant? That's why Helen wouldn't let us hang around? She's psycho," Vince said. I could only nod. My throat hurt too much to talk. "I left for the army before your incident with Morelli and uncle Frank's Buick."

I tapped Ranger's hand to get his attention. "I want to go home," I signed.

"Soon, Babe. We'll go to New York once you get released tomorrow," he promised. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

It was another day before the doctor released me. I was happy to get the damn tube removed from my neck, and he wanted to ensure I could eat soft foods before my discharge. Annette got assigned as my nurse again. She smiled when I finished eating everything Tank gave me for breakfast. "That's not hospital food," she joked.

"Nope," I quietly answered. It was easier to talk after the doctor removed the tube and stitched my throat incision closed. I didn't have to plug it with my finger to prevent the whistle when air escaped through the end. Not to mention the sucking, squelching noise from breathing was gone. I hope I never go through that again. "Ranger said Ella sent me the food."

"Your husband is thoughtful," Annette said. I didn't have the heart to tell her I wasn't married to Ranger. If she thought it was odd that I called him Ranger instead of Carlos, she never mentioned anything.

When she left, I got worried about how I was supposed to pay my medical bill. It's not that I couldn't financially afford it, but my name in the hospital system didn't align with my actual name. They didn't have Stephanie Lewis on their computer.

"I paid the expense," Ranger said, correctly interpreting my thoughts. "It was my actions that got you here."

"You didn't need to pay, Ranger," I replied. "I prefer to pay my own way."

"You're on my health insurance as my wife."

What the fuck? I thought you had to provide proof to add a spouse for medical coverage. "Wait, what?"

"I own the company. No price, Babe," he said, ending the debate. A freaking macho military man can't handle an independent woman. Who am I to stop him from throwing away his hard-earned cash? However, I did not like being indebted to him. Owing people a favour made me uncomfortable.

Vince arrived while I was in the shower. He brought a bag with a change of clothes for me to wear. I opened the door wide enough to grab the duffle while maintaining my dignity.

I didn't waste time to open the bag. How the heck did they get my size? Ooh. Silk panties and bra. They felt amazing against my skin. I moaned when the fabric of the bra rubbed against my nipples. The black top fit like a glove. It conformed to my shape to accentuate my breasts. I laughed when I pulled the cargo pants from the bag. The pants fit surprisingly well. However, the top didn't meet the waistline of my pants. Several inches of my abdomen were on display. Not practical for the chilly winter months.

"Why the Rangeman clothes?" I asked when I exited the bathroom.

"Woah," Lester exclaimed. "I thought they airbrushed the stretch marks from your stomach. Your skin is flawless." I moved out of his reach when he attempted to touch me.

"Other than my c-section and this throat scar, I don't have any skin blemishes or imperfections," I replied. "Rangeman clothes?"

"Babe, we need you to pretend to be a part of my crew. I'm afraid someone leaked your location to Helen," Ranger replied as he passed me a SEALs hat. I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Braid, then pull your hair through the hole in the back. It would keep you hidden."

I rolled my eyes and reached behind to braid my hair. As if that would work, I mentally scoffed. Ranger gently pushed me into the chair. He stood behind me to French braid my locks in two rows until I could hide them beneath the hat. Lester grinned while Tank and Bobby looked shocked. "Sisters?" I asked.

"Yes. Four and one brother," he replied. "I'm the oldest. I helped my sisters with their hair most mornings." Huh. Ranger shared another tidbit from his life outside of the military and Rangeman. As he braided my hair, he told me about his sisters, Maria, Celia, Alejandra and Catalina and his brother Mateo. Maria and Celia were twins. They recently celebrated their twenty-ninth birthday. Both women had children. Celia's daughter turned eleven a few days earlier. Alejandra was twenty-seven. Catalina was twenty-five. Mateo was the youngest at twenty-three. Ranger's mother's name was Mariela, and his father was Ricardo. He confessed to getting named after his father. Ranger was Ricardo Carlos Manoso the third.

I had to admit it sounded a bit pompous to be named after your father. Especially if you introduced yourself as so-and-so the third. The thought made me snort. Sure, I named Isabelle after my grandmother, but everyone, including Joe, thought it was after his crazy grandmother. Who was I to say otherwise?

"Why aren't you surprised, jester?" I teased Lester.

"I'm Ranger's cousin," he replied. That explained a lot.

Ranger's phone chimed. "Babe, we need to leave now. Helen Plum and Valerie Morelli just entered the hospital." Why were they here?

I didn't waste time. I shoved my feet into my sneakers and followed Ranger from the room. We exited the hospital from an entrance only utilized by hospital staff. I held my breath until Ranger tucked me into a black SUV between Lester and Bobby. Ranger took the front passenger seat, leaving Tank to drive.

As Tank took the onramp onto the highway, Ranger programmed my New York address into the GPS. "How did Helen and Valerie know to find me in the hospital? Didn't you say we were in New York?"

"Buffalo, New York," Bobby replied. "Not New York City." I didn't miss the fact that he never answered my question.

I rested my head on Bobby's shoulder as we drove toward my home. Long car rides always made me sleep. Ranger, Bobby and Lester talked about Rangeman standard operating procedures, which sounded too much like military protocols. Tank focussed on driving. It bored me into dreamland. As we approached my apartment, I sat up fully alert, shaking from head to toe. "Don't stop!" I shouted. "Abort mission, soldier. I repeat, abort mission!"

Ranger called someone and ordered them to my apartment while Tank turned the car around. I didn't want the Rangeman team to invade my privacy. But I know someone had already breached the threshold of my domain. It pissed me off. "¿Dónde estás?" (Where are you?). "Usa el helicoptero." (Use the helicopter).

"Hector and Cal are en route to check the threats. Ranger asked them to use the helicopter to get there faster," Lester unnecessarily interpreted.

"Ellos pueden usar la platafoma de aterrizaje en la azotea." (They can use the rooftop landing pad) Lester looked at me in shock. "Code: Sigma Epsilon Gamma Alpha." Ranger repeated the code a second time. "Números seis cinco tres tres ocho (Numbers six, five, three, three, eight)," I quickly recited my keypad code for them to access the building from the roof.

"What's with the codes and numbers?" Lester asked. "You speak Spanish?" Duh!

"Permission to land a private chopper on the roof and the code to the staircase door. Si. Yo hablo Español." I answered his stupid questions. Ranger ended his call, then sent a text. "Where are we going?" I asked when he looked up from his phone.

"A hotel in the Bronx," Ranger replied. I caught his eye. He had an eyebrow raised. I instinctively knew he wanted to know why I had codes to the roof.

"I moved here during the height of my modelling career. The agency holding my contract often sent helicopters to lift me to the airport to avoid rush hour traffic. I received the access codes from the building management and security. Since I still model, though not for the same company, I maintained my access in case of an emergency. As long as the pad is available, your men can land the chopper," I explained. "Don't you want to wait to see if it's safe for me to go home?"

I knew the answer before Ranger replied, "Babe, whoever is after you, knows where you live. We wouldn't be doing our job if we let them capture you."

Bobby gently pulled me back to lean into his side. I rested my head on his shoulder. "Little girl, what are you hiding? How did you know your apartment was compromised?" Tank asked. It was the first time he spoke since we sat inside the SUV. I wasn't sure what Tank wanted to know.

"I had already discussed this with you. It's not my fault you chose to ignore me," I snapped as my hand touched the bandage on my neck. "Enough of the stupid nicknames!"

"You explained how you knew our names but not about your instincts," Tank explained. He didn't acknowledge my comment regarding the nickname rebuke. I rolled my eyes. Did I want to discuss this with Tank and Lester? My letter from grandma explained everything.

Ranger

I could see Stephanie struggling in the backseat. She didn't want to share more about her past than necessary. Unfortunately, to build a level of trust with Lester and Tank, she'd need to confess and provide transparency.

Stephanie finally came to the same conclusion. I watched Stephanie open her purse to retrieve the letters. She didn't have much of a choice. Stephanie cleared her voice as she shook a letter open to read.

"My dearest Stephanie.

I know you feel lost and betrayed. There are many things you need to know about your childhood. Things I know your mother, Helen, would be furious for you to learn. You, my darling granddaughter, are gifted with the sight. Don't scoff or dismiss my words. Deep inside, you know I speak the truth. Some people, especially your mother and other bitches in the Burg, think it's a hoax or accuse you of being crazy. I say to hell with the lot of them. You are better than those jealous vipers. Everything began after that Barnhardt girl poured apple juice on your seat in grade one, then accused you of pissing yourself. The other children teased you for the entire school year. You see, Helen thought you didn't inherit anything from me. She ignorantly thought the gift skipped yet another generation. Neither Helen nor Valerie received the sight. A fact that still angers Helen to this day.

Helen wanted her precious, what she still perceives as her perfect daughter, Valerie, to inherit the abilities we possess. I know you're going to meet your handsome soulmate. He is a few inches taller than you. His dark, almost black hair and dark chocolate eyes will entice you. As Seraphina predicted, "You would meet your soulmate. He would cause great sorrow before you experienced great joy." I know you will meet him today, my dear grandchild. He will hand you this letter to read. Trust his men. They will protect you with their lives. Share this letter with them to ease their minds to believe and trust in your abilities.

Please forgive your soulmate for harming you. He was only guarding his heart and his men when you shared your gift. Trust in the intense bond you share. I know I'm asking for a lot, perhaps even a miracle, but I can see what your future holds. It's filled with more joy than you can possibly imagine. Remember, forgive him despite how much you want to rip him limb from limb or throttle him.

There is another warning I'm supposed to give you, but I can't seem to tune into it. I know it has to do with meeting the other men, but it's almost like the outcome depends on another factor. Sorry, I can't provide more information other than you can trust the men to keep you safe. Without you here, I can't see the picture as clearly.

Now I have to tell you why I'm writing you this letter. Sure, I wanted to share the part about your soulmate, but I have more important things to say. While young, you often told your father a name before he left on a mission. Your mother tried to play it off as your father going to a post office convention. As if you couldn't figure out where he went. I saw you slipping your feet into his combat boots whenever he was home. You knew he was in the military.

I think you were eight or nine at the time when your father got called on a dangerous special ops mission. Helen wanted him to retire from the military, but your father had an important job to do. He did everything possible to keep you safe from harm. Nothing else mattered to him. Only you. Steph, you are the light in your father's eye. You, yes YOU, kept him alive. Before he left to catch a ride from Uncle Sam to his destination, an image or name would randomly jump into your mind.

Did you know you can draw? It was a spectacular sight to see. You'd go into a trance-like state, like that character in the Twilight Saga. I think her name was Alice. She would get a vision and draw it. You, my darling girl, were like her in that regard. It was rare for you to pass him a sketch, but this time, you insisted. Before this time, you and Frank would make a game of it. He'd pretend to leave without a care, but secretly hoped you had a name to share. Every time, except this particular day, you had a name. Frank's face paled when he saw your picture.

Unfortunately for you, Helen saw the picture you drew. In the top right corner, you drew a map. Symbols represented the street names. I think you used the Greek alphabet letters. A spot on the map got marked with a red target. Beside the map, to the left, you drew a house. The devil stood inside the top-floor window at the far right. He too had a red target drawn on him. Below, you wrote instructions in Spanish. Your father was deployed on a mission to some European or Asian country. I don't know which, only that it was overseas. The minute your father's ride pulled away from the curb, your mother dragged you to the car, kicking and screaming. You didn't want to see the scary man with the glass eye. But your mother didn't take you to Necromancer that day. She brought you to me. Helen wanted me to remove the gift. It wasn't mine to take or suppress. I refused to help and ordered your mother to leave you alone.

Necromancer is the nickname of a military man. I don't know his true identity. The one he used in town is just a cover and not worth mentioning. We didn't travel in the same social circles. He was an introvert and remained free of the Burg scrutiny, though most of us knew he could hypnotize people into completing his dirty work. The man worked with the underbelly of Trenton and polluted everything he touched. You know his name. It's locked away in a mental vault, but it's there.

A few days later, while I was out of town, Helen implemented her plan. I must admit I knew your mother's activities, but I was unable to protect you. For that, I beg your forgiveness. However, her ploy to disable your abilities had inadvertently protected you for many years to come. Helen took you to see Necromancer. His right eye was grey, like cold steel, while his left was glass with the iris painted to match the other. In my mind's eye, I could see you shiver from fear. You knew the man would suppress your latent abilities. He put you into a hypnotic trance, then tricked your brain into ignoring the names and images that popped into your mind. Helen made a grave error that day. While she inhibited your gift of sight, it inadvertently accentuated your gift of intuition. Neither Helen nor Necromancer knew about the other ability you inherited from Frank.

By now, some of the voodoo, for lack of a better word, not all mind you, cast by Necromancer would have disappeared, along with those memories from a few weeks prior to that day. With help, your intuition and gift of sight would return more powerful than before. I can see some of it had already returned but not entirely. Find someone to remove the residual hypnotic state. Your sanity depends on removing that mental veil. Ask one of your travel companions to assist. Whatever you do, do not return to Necromancer. He is not to be trusted. Though, I feel he's no longer on our earthly plain.

I know you have a stalker. His image appears in my mind, but it's too fuzzy for me to give you an accurate description. All I know, I am sharing with you. The man is the height of your soulmate. He's scrawny. I want to say his hair is brown, but it keeps changing.

Isabelle knows you are her biological mother. Your stalker sent a note to her school. She got shaken, though not surprised about the news. Why else would Joe, Valerie and Helen forbid her from speaking to you? Your daughter is exactly like you. Isabelle had known the truth for years. She inherited your resilience.

We couldn't determine who sent the letter. It got delivered by a classmate who didn't pay enough attention to provide a description. The man who wrote the note said they wanted you dead. Isabelle is safe. He has no interest in harming a child.

Frank promised to hire bodyguards to guard you. I recommended Rangeman. The company owner, Carlos Manoso, resembles your soulmate. He will have other men with him to protect you. Their full names will appear in your mind and you will instantly know you could trust them with your life. Please, I'm begging you, let them protect you regardless of what happens after you meet.

Let Carlos love you. It's time for you to live. Your soulmate shares a special connection with you. It's like an unbreakable golden arrow piercing both of your hearts, keeping you joined.

Carlos, I can see you holding Steph at an arm's length. My advice to you is, don't. Separately, you and Stephanie have the skills to survive. Together, you are unstoppable. You need what the other has to offer. Don't let your false sense of protecting her from your enemies serve as an excuse to stay away. Neither of you can live without the other now that you've met.

I have one more proverbial bomb to drop. Your grandma, Isabelle Plum, sold her house in Hamilton Township. You already know it got sold after your sixteenth birthday. I can see the box of treasures you hid in your childhood closet. Remove them from their spot and get your soulmate to lock them inside his Rangeman vault.

Sorry. I got distracted. Stephie, you are the sole heir to the Testa fortune. Your Italian relatives didn't have daughters to pass along the legacy. The vineyard, winery and hotel are yours to manage. I'm holding the money in trust, as I promised your grandmother. She trusted me to keep Helen's greedy hands away from your wealth.

Oops. I said I only had one bomb when in fact, I had two. Helen wanted you to marry Joe Morelli since the day he defiled you in the bakery. I'm sure it was since you were a child, but her efforts magnified tenfold when your grandmother Plum passed away. Joe didn't know you worked at the bakery on school nights. Helen shared that intel. She knew your chances of becoming pregnant were near one hundred percent likely on that night.

The day you ran over Joe with Frank's Buick still makes me smile. That Morelli boy deserved much worse for publishing your encounter around town using a crass poem, which left me to believe it was not consensual. He is destined for a life of poverty and desolation. In time, he will reap what he sowed.

I almost forgot. Helen was furious to learn you didn't have access to the inheritance from your grandma Plum. It's the reason she insisted on the temporary insanity plea and taking advantage of your naivety to sign over your rights.

I'm sorry for everything you endured at the hands of your mother. No matter how many times she attempted to force you to become a Burg wife and mother, you stood your ground. Remember, her abusive words are only harmful if you allow them to cut you down. We all have done things we aren't proud to admit. Baby granddaughter, I am so proud of you. Never forget that I love you unconditionally.

The next few months are going to try your patience. Stay away from Trenton. Remember, trust Carlos and the man he hires to release you from the hypnotic bond. The memories and repressed psychic messages will flood you, making the sensation of drowning prominent in your mind. Let them in. Do not fight it. Once the flood recedes, you will know what to do.

I love you… forever. Grandma Edna."