Senior Prom 12

Okay, so here's the thing. I'm a big, fat chicken. When it came right down to it, I just couldn't tell Ranger I love him.

It was kind of like with Joe all those years, except not really the same. With Joe I couldn't tell him I loved him because I wasn't really in love with him. I loved him, yes. And with the emotion of the Scrog crisis, I finally told him. But I was never in love with him, not in a till-death-do-us-part sort of way.

With Ranger it was almost the opposite. I was head-over-heels, mad-about-you in love with him. It took me a long time, but I finally admitted it to myself. The problem was, I loved him so much that if he rejected me, sent me back to Joe again, it would destroy me. I didn't think I'd survive it.

So I was scared shitless and took the chicken route. Instead of telling him I loved him, I told him a fairy tale about a former lingerie buyer who blackmailed her cousin into giving her a job as a bounty hunter. I took a moderate risk and even told him about the scary, badass Cuban bounty hunter who became her mentor.

When I got to the part about the heroine being handcuffed naked to the shower rod and having to call the scary badass to rescue her, Ranger's eyes darkened to onyx and his mouth took mine prisoner. That was the end of the story.

"And they lived happily ever after," I gasped at the end of the kiss.

Ranger had turned to face me and the silk boxers he wore were no match for the size of his hard-on. He plunged his hips toward my pelvis and then his breath caught, sharp and quick. I cupped his face in both of my hands and read the pain he couldn't quite hide behind his blank expression.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Ranger," I said.

His eyes softened. "My own stupid fault, Babe."

He eased over onto his back again.

"Maybe I should sit on the chair for a while," I suggested.

"No."

"But…"

"No. You're staying here." He used his arm around my neck to draw me snug to his good side and I cuddled in.

"Okay, but it's awfully early. I'm going back to sleep." And I was hoping Ranger would, too. He needed to rest, to heal.

oOo

The next day

"Hey, Mom, it's me."

"Stephanie, this is your mother."

"Mom, I called you! I know who you are." I think my mother has finally gone around the bend. The combination of steam from her iron and Jack Daniels from her secret cache has sent her off to Never-Never Land. As in, I'll never-never be normal again.

"Stephanie, the whole Burg is saying that you married that bounty hunter. I've had more than a hundred phone calls congratulating me on your marriage, and dozens from people who were angry because we didn't invite them to the wedding! How could you get married without telling us? Why would you do such a thing? Don't you have any respect at all for your family?"

Ah, that explains the forty-four voicemails she left me over the past day and a half. I just listened to my voicemail and kept hitting delete. "Stephanie, this is your mother." BEEP! "Stephanie, this is your mother." BEEP!

"Mom, stop! I didn't get married."

"But everyone is saying you did! And that you're in the hospital because your new husband is dying from a knife wound because he got in a fight with a gang, and you're under twenty-four-hour guard because there's a contract out on you both."

"It's not true. None of it is true. You should know better than to listen to all the stupid rumors."

"How could you let this go on for two whole days without calling?"

"It hasn't been two whole days, only a day and a half. But I'm really sorry, Mom. I didn't know about the rumors. I've been at the hospital with Ranger and you have to keep your cell phone turned off here." At least in the ICU you did, and Ranger was there for the first twelve hours after his emergency surgery. After that I just kept it turned off to avoid my mother's calls.

"So that part is true, then? He was almost killed in a knife fight?"

"Not exactly. He was out of the country on a mission, and he got wounded with a knife. And Wednesday night he accidentally tore the stitches out and they had to do surgery to repair the damage. But he's doing better and is being released today."

"What about the twenty-four-hour guards? Are you in danger? Is someone trying to kill you?"

"No, Mom, nobody's trying to kill me, or Ranger either. It's just Ranger's men. It's kind of a vigil thing with them. They always stand watch when one of them is in the hospital."

That was a bit of shading on the truth. It was true Ranger's men always stood watch, but in this case it was really a protection thing. Ranger had enemies, serious ones from his many years of Special Ops work, and any time he was unable to protect himself his men made sure to protect him. Tank himself had been outside Ranger's door for probably thirty of the past thirty-six hours, leaving only to sleep for a few hours and then coming right back.

"I've got to go, Mom."

I could hear my grandmother in the background. "Wait, your grandmother wants to talk with you."

There was a humming noise caused by my mother putting her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, followed by some cracking and buzzing as the phone changed hands. Finally my grandmother's voice came on. "Stephanie, are you okay?"

"Sure, Grandma, I'm fine."

"How's the bounty hunter with the nice package? Is he going to be out of the hospital to bring you to the prom tomorrow? You're still coming, right? You promised."

"I'll be there, Grandma. I haven't forgotten. And I told you I didn't want a date. I'm coming alone. Ranger is doing better now, but he won't be up to dancing tomorrow night."

"Well, how about Stanley Holloway? He really liked you, I could tell. And he's coming anyway."

"I can't go with Stan. He's a really nice guy, but I'm just not up for dating right now."

"He called here, you know, asking for your phone number. I thought sure he was going to invite you to the prom."

Stan was next on my list of calls. I had to tell him that he didn't need to pick me up for the prom after all. I didn't know where I'd be. Unless some cleaning miracle had occurred, my bedroom carpet was still saturated with Ranger's blood, and I couldn't go back there until it was gone. Thinking about Ranger almost bleeding to death for the second time on my floor made my stomach clench and twist. I wasn't sure I could go back there, period. Ever.

"I've got to go, Grandma, but I'll be there tomorrow night, with bells on. See you then."

oOo

I walked back down the hall from the family lounge and nodded to Tank, his huge frame perched on a rickety folding chair that looked to be in imminent danger of permanent crumpling.

I hesitated in the doorway of the private room, studying Ranger's face as he lay on top of the bed, eyes closed. He was dressed in cargoes and a t-shirt, ready to go home, but his feet were bare. His long, slim feet and straight, even toes were sexy as hell. Foot fetishists were just plain creepy, and yet I felt the almost uncontrollable compulsion to lick those feet, to suck each toe into my mouth, to tongue my way up his arch, his ankle, his calf, his knee, his thigh, right to his…

He opened his eyes and a faint smile touched his luscious lips when he spotted me.

"Babe," he said, holding a hand out toward me.

He hadn't wanted to let go of me since he woke up from his surgery. The few times I left his bed, to use the bathroom or grab a bite to eat, he practically begged me to come right back. Things weren't right in his head, and he was clinging to me in desperation, trying to chase away the dark. But it wasn't working.

I crawled up on the hospital bed where we'd spent the last twenty-four hours twined together, barely able to tell where one of us ended and the other began. As he pulled me to his side again, I could feel the tension releasing from his muscles and hear his breath sighing out.

This was just plain wrong. Ranger didn't sigh. He didn't cling. He didn't get emotional or depressed. I was going to make him talk about what was bothering him, force him to tell me. I'd get to the bottom of this if it killed me.

And it might.

TBC