Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

Rating: R

Chapter 7

Ranger

The introductions were going well, and I'd managed to keep from prying Stephanie out of Marco's clutches. Well, I resisted the impulse for several minutes. In the end, I just gently pulled—okay, tugged—her over to me.

I caught the pensive look on Stephanie's face as she took in the banter between me and Marco like a spectator at a tennis match. I hadn't challenged Marco's charge that I was hanging in Trenton to be near her because the brutal fact was that it was partly true. It wasn't a truth I'd ever admitted to myself before, let alone considered confessing to her, but Marco had an uncanny insight and an annoying habit of giving me a hard time. So naturally, he had no problem bringing it up.

When Stephanie's stomach growled loudly enough to compete with the paint on the walls, I knew it was time to get her fed. Though I invited Marco to join us, I was glad when he declined. I really wanted Stephanie to myself for awhile.

I was listening to their conversation with only half an ear, considering options for a restaurant that would suit both of our tastes when Marco's voice, light but with an undercurrent of tension, pierced my thoughts. "Thank you, but I'm not. Our father was a bastard."

It was like I'd been doused with ice water. The sorrow and regret that I'd been trying so hard to squash down, swelled up. Memories of my father – at the dinner table, teaching me to ride a bike, lecturing me and Marco, helping me to repaint the façade of this building, dancing with my mother in the kitchen – tumbled one into another in a rush that, like an undertow, was sucking me down.

And then Stephanie was there, my lifeline. "Hey," she said softly, and I immediately stepped back from the abyss, focusing instead on the concern in her blue eyes. The moment I realized I had a death grip on her hip, I released her, and used every trick I knew to get my emotions locked back down. Christ, I needed to get it together.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," Marco said using his talk-the-man-in-from-the-ledge voice, "I know you and Papa—"

"Babe," I said, cutting Marco off. There were some things I needed to say to Marco, but I didn't want Stephanie to get caught in the crossfire any more than she already had.

"Will you wait outside for me?" I asked quietly. She paused for a moment, as if she didn't trust that we'd both walk out of the room alive. I squeezed her hand in mine to let her know that everything would be okay and tried to sound to reassuring. "I'll only be a minute."

She looked at me for another long moment before turning to leave, her worry palpable.

It wasn't until the door clicked behind Stephanie that I finally looked at Marco. He appeared suitably contrite and a little wary. Smart man.

Marco flinched when he caught the look I was leveling at him, "Carlos—"

"I don't want to hear it," I interrupted, my voice tightly controlled. "I know you have reasons for how you feel, but right now, I need you to keep it out of my face." Maybe I was being harsh. Maybe I was being unfair. I didn't care.

He gave me a long measuring look, but didn't say anything more. Marco nodded his understanding, silent and serious for once. I turned to go, pausing with my back to him to add, "And if you pull that shit with Mamá, it'll kill her."

I stood there for a moment, not sure if he was going to acknowledge me. "You're right," he said, finally. "I'll behave, little brother. I promise."

I nodded and moved to leave, when Marco spoke again, "I like your Stephanie, Carlos."

A soft huff of air escaped me, a mixture of amusement and self-derision and I stared at the wood of the door that separated me from her. "She isn't mine," I said quietly and I left the room.

)()()()()-()()()()(

Stephanie was waiting outside, accompanied again by the lumbering watchdog, Buddy. Without a word, Stephanie followed me as I made my way to the elevator and for that I was grateful. My control was a fragile thing right now and I wanted nothing more than to escape the attention I was attracting from the men on the floor.

I was disgusted with my reaction in Marco's office. It had been a long time since I'd lost myself in my emotions like that. Even longer since I'd felt this sort of grief. I'd had lots of reasons to grieve over the years, but in battle, you learned put it aside and keep fighting. That's just what I needed to do now. But for some reason it wasn't coming as easily.

It would probably be better—safer—if I just spent some time alone, but I liked having Stephanie near me. Still, I was going to have to stay in better control of myself and be more aware of my surroundings. I was a danger to myself and others when I wasn't. Maybe it was selfish of me to let her near me right now. Probably it would be prudent to stay away.

Stephanie's hand on my arm startled me from my internal deliberations and I saw her hurt and confusion at my reaction. She pulled away from me, but that was the last thing I wanted, despite my best intentions of a moment ago to keep my distance. I reached out for her hand before she could go far and brought her back to me.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know.

"What?" she asked, her brow pulled into a pucker.

"In Marco's office…," I started, not sure if I could explain what had been going on in my head. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you." Fuck. I felt a sick twist of guilt in my gut at the thought of bruises marking her white skin. I brushed my knuckles lightly over her hip, and wished the soft touch could erase the brutal one from before.

I felt her responding to my caress. I could smell the light scent of her shampoo and feel the heat of her skin searing me through the light fabric of her skirt. God. I wanted to sink my fingers into her hair and drown myself in her kiss. But I couldn't. She swayed toward me slightly before catching herself. "No… no… of course not," she said. "Ranger, I'm fine. What about you?"

I wasn't fine. I'd left fine a few miles back, was passing through miserable and careening toward wretched. And let's not forget pathetic, surely I'd encountered that somewhere along the way. But this wasn't the time or place for those types of admissions. I glanced at the camera in the corner of elevator. No place for weakness in front of my men. No place for weakness in my life, period.

"Not here," I said, and we went back to standing silently. But her hand was still in mine and I liked it there.

We were getting settled into the truck when my phone vibrated. Not a moment of peace in the life I'd chosen. I couldn't quite hold in my sigh.

When I glanced at the display I realized it was worse than I'd thought. "I think it's for you, Babe," I said, holding the phone up so Stephanie could read the display.

"Yo," I answered, slipping into the cocky-bastard persona that I knew annoyed the hell out of the cop.

There was a beat of silence before he responded, his anger barely restrained in his tight tone, "Is she with you?"

"Yes," I responded, feeling my mood improve. Fucking with Morelli was a good time.

"Where are you?" he asked. By the accusation in his tone, I could guess he'd already heard the truth and was just looking for confirmation.

"Miami," I said, not offering anything more.

"What are you doing there?" was the next interrogation question. I wanted respond Stephanie, but as much fun as that would be, she probably wouldn't appreciate it.

"It's a personal matter," I finally answered.

He was silent for a long moment and I could tell he didn't like my less-than-forthcoming answers. With what was probably great effort, he managed to be only mildly belligerent when he asked, "Do you remember the conversation we had about what would happen if you moved in on me with Stephanie?"

He was breathing heavily into the mouth piece of his cell and I figured I had about five seconds before the cop erupted. "Yes," I answered calmly and counted to five before I pulled the phone away from my ear, just as the screaming started.