Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Janet Evanovich are used strictly for entertainment purposes.
Ranger handcuffed the skip he and Tank had caught into the back of the Cayenne to the bar installed over the seat. After he shut the door, he climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Tank's door to slam shut before he drove to the police station.
Quiet permeated the car during the ride. The skip, Chris O'Malley, knew better than to test the two muscled men in front of him. This second ride to the pokey with these men paled in comparison with the first, which had not been gentle. He'd put up his hands and complacently allowed himself to be cuffed the moment he realized they'd caught him. His ribs still hurt when he remembered the first time they apprehended him. For some stupid reason, last time he had tried to shoot the large black man. The creative abuse they'd heaped on him had terrified him. A wiser man now, he knew when to let go.
Ranger forced his mind to concentrate on the road in front of him during the short ride to the police station. He worked hard daily to push a certain brown-haired siren out of his mind, but Stephanie Plum continued to haunt his memories and dreams, as she had for the past fourteen months, and truthfully, the past four years. Just when he thought he'd conquered his own obsession with her, inevitably he would smell her perfume wafting down the sidewalk or his path home would take him by Tasty Pastry and she would rocket up to the forefront of his mind again.
He couldn't pinpoint what troubled him most about Stephanie's absence: not knowing what happened to her life or getting used to the void she left. The pain was still there, but he'd toned it down to a dull ache instead of the daily torture he'd succumbed to when he returned to Trenton two months ago.
As if on autopilot, he swung into the side lot of the police station and pulled into the nearest spot to the entrance. He left the car idling while Tank escorted O'Malley inside. The silence in the car pressed on him and he reached to turn on the radio. The soft melodic sounds of classical music pushed the silence away. He relaxed into the back of the seat, allowing the music to override the memories which threatened to evade his mind. He had no idea how much time had passed when he felt the car dip under Tank's weight. He shifted his gaze when his friend spoke. "Man, next time we take the Denali. Why don't you trade this little thing in? It kills my legs."
Ranger stretched out his arm to cut off the music and the peaceful look on his face turned to stone. Tank retraced what he said and mentally smacked himself up the side of his head. Damn it! Even if the wheels fell off the man would keep this vehicle; it had been Stephanie's favorite one to drive.
"Sorry man – wasn't thinking," Tank offered as an apology.
Ranger smirked. "You just reminded me, I still owe you for your little send-off last year."
Tank cut his eyes to Ranger, wary. "My little send-off last year? I don't – oh shit. Ric, you don't still hold a grudge, do you?" Despite his tough exterior, some of Tank's fear made its way into his voice. "You even agreed you deserved it."
"Be that as it may, you dealt me a cheap shot. So as repayment, I've promised Mary Lou you'd babysit her kids on Saturday night so she can go out with the girls." Ranger held his composure and, at the same moment, Tank lost his.
"You did what?" Tank exploded. "How could you do that to me? That is low, man. Real, real low. You know what happens when I get around kids! Damned little rug rats running circles around me. Remember what happened when I had to babysit Ram's boy? I still don't think he's forgiven me for losing the kid in the building's ventilation system." Tank shook his head in disbelief. "And that wasn't my fault, he did it on purpose! I should have known you'd get creative. There's no way you can kick my ass on the mats." Tank propped his elbow up on the window and rested his temple against his fist, hoping his taunt would make Ranger take the bait.
Ranger flicked Tank a look of annoyance. "Don't be so sure of yourself. I admit neither of us would fare well against the other on the mats. This is the best option and more fun for me. Stop whining."
Tank mumbled under his breath a word that sounded like 'shit' and crossed his arms, his eyes focused on the quiet parking lot. Silence ensued and Ranger pulled out of the lot, headed toward Haywood. "So, I guess Lula's girls' night is why you decided to take Friday night off instead of Saturday?"
"Yeah. Lula, Connie, and Mary Lou want to go to a club in Princeton on Saturday to hear this new band Connie is wild about. It's called Naked Soul. I guess there's a female lead singer and she's 'wicked' on the guitar." Tank grinned at the thought. "It's ladies night, so they decided to do the girl thing and Lula and I changed our plans to Friday."
Ranger nodded his head. Naked Soul. It sounded like how he felt lately. Open and bare for the world to see his wounds, only he knew the world had no idea how much he hurt inside. "The band name sounds familiar." Ranger thought about it and then remembered. "Tobias Rockwell owns a huge club in Newark. He's the new client we picked up last week. We've got a security gig for them in six months. Huge concert. Naked Soul opens for Flight Odyssey that night."
Tank flicked a glance at Ranger. "You know the name of the bands?"
"Photographic memory. We looked over the concert plans in detail for hours yesterday. Had a huge meeting with his team to plan out the security needs, nail down teams, and give me time to hire additional help, if needed. We might be okay pulling from the Boston team instead of hiring. Five bands in total will play, and the new blockbuster group Les is always on about, Twisted Mind, will close the concert." Ranger shook his head. "I have half of mind to give him the night off instead of rostering him. He needs to see a shrink over all the psychotic music he plays."
Tank's laughter rumbled in his large chest. "Santos needs to see a shrink for a lot of reasons, his music ain't the only one." He sobered slightly and asked, "Hey, how are you doing?"
"Now's not the time. It's a good day, let's leave it alone."
"All right, then let's negotiate the Mary Lou deal." Tank knew when not to push his friend and if today was good, Tank didn't want to be the one to spoil it.
"Not a chance."
*\/*\/*\/*\/*
Stephanie went through two large Cokes, a large fry, a Big Mac, and an apple pie at McDonalds while she thought up a plan to get in contact with Mary Lou without drawing attention to herself. If, and it was a big if, Ranger was looking for her, Mary Lou would be on his radar: hidden cameras and bugs in her home or on her car, phone taps, stealth drive-bys, not to mention monitored snail mail and email. Ranger had no limit when it came to his manic security episodes, especially when he wanted something. Her solution? Prepaid cell phone. She had even gone to a mall kiosk and purchased one along with several prepaid cards for additional minutes.
Thank God she now received a stipend from the band account to cover her personal and living expenses. Geo and Merc were generous and treated her like family, but she had never been the type to accept charity. Just because she left Trenton behind, didn't mean she lost her scruples. Her one frustration was that the guys didn't allow her to pay rent. They reasoned since they didn't pay rent, she shouldn't.
Lately, the three of them discussed renting a condo overlooking the beach. Stephanie found out the suite they used was reserved for their family and her bedroom belonged to Uncle Larry for use when he came to town on business. Her level of extreme discomfort in taking his bed sparked the conversation and they planned to go tour some models first thing in the morning. When and if they moved, she planned to insist on paying rent or she would find her own place to live. She knew how to get what she wanted and 'no' wasn't an option.
Stephanie stared down at the sealed box in front of her. Feeling like an idiot, she had unpackaged the cell phone wearing latex gloves, programmed the phone, and repackaged it. After writing a quick note, she slipped the phone, cards to reload the minutes, and the note into a small FedEx box, then sealed it. Only then had she removed the latex gloves.
She knew it was crazy not to want her fingerprints on anything, but she still felt the strongest urge to stay as far away from Ranger as possible. The caution kept away the jitters over her decision. If Ranger kept Lou's mail monitored or if she got suspicious of an unexpected package and took it to the police department, there was nothing to lead them to Stephanie. She had provided a random address on the air bill she'd taken from the 'for sale' ads in the newspaper she perused while she ate. The required phone number for the air bill was a bigger problem, but she provided Merc's in the end. She knew he'd play outraged prank victim if someone called the number. The Atlantic City address provided a place for any searchers to concentrate their efforts, but she'd become adept at hiding in plain sight and wasn't worried.
Her mind wandered to her note. She'd written 'Call me' and signed with a friendship symbol she and Mary Lou had designed in junior high school. They'd used the symbol instead of their names to avoid trouble for passing notes. It was a simple picture of a heart and written in the center was word 'amiga', the feminine form of the Spanish word for 'friend' – they'd both said it was appropriate.
The only hitch in her plan might come if Lou was too angry or hurt to call. Stephanie hoped not, but it had been a long time with no contact. She thought about how she'd feel if their positions were reversed, but objectivity came hard for her. She wanted to believe she'd be understanding, but had no way to prove it to herself.
Stephanie sighed and picked up the box with a napkin. On the way to Merc's BMW, she thought about her strategy. Lou would receive the package tomorrow, which left plenty of time for them to talk and plan. She felt the concert this weekend presented the perfect opportunity for a reunion. If Lou planned to attend with Lula and Connie, Stephanie would instruct Lou on how to find her back stage. Lou's inability to attend was another possibility. Stephanie knew there were frequent babysitting issues with three rowdy kids. Willing, responsible adults were difficult to find. Usually, finding a sitter entailed some version of blackmail.
The car ride to the shipping center took little time. After parking, Stephanie used the napkin to carry the box inside. With no line, she paid in cash and was back on the road in no time. The ride to the hotel went by quickly and she soon stood in front of the door to the suite sliding her card key through the electronic lock. She walked through the door and dropped her purse on the kitchen island on her way to the couch.
Sprawled out across the cushions with her guiltar, she thought about the shock of seeing Connie and Joe together in The Closter. It had shaken Stephanie to the core to see them kiss, but at the same time it confirmed she and Joe were not right for each other. The temptation to reveal herself to Connie had been strong, but she'd decided against it. While she trusted Connie not to betray her, Stephanie didn't want to ask her to keep anything from Joe, he didn't deserve it. The constant lies between them had driven a wedge between Joe and Stephanie when they had been together. The last thing she wanted to do was to put Connie in a position to have to lie to Joe. Though she would never have put them together, Connie and Joe made sense and it made her smile to think of them. Joe deserved someone who understood his cop life and wanted the same type of Burg existence he craved. Connie fit the mold very well, as long as Joe didn't try to tame her too much. She'd keep him in line and he'd make her very happy.
She pondered life and the strange way it seemed to morph based on the decisions people made. For instance, she wondered if Joe and Connie would have found each other if she'd remained in Trenton. When just one element changed, in this case her departure, the future changed dramatically. It almost seemed as if she had held their lives at bay until she left and they were able to progress forward as fate intended. Her mind held a huge amount of curiosity for how their relationship got started, though. She knew it had to be a great story!
Stephanie didn't regret leaving, though she missed some things about her former life. She felt bad cutting out those closest to her, but she wanted to explore the new, free Stephanie and see who and what she could be without all of the expectations, gossip, and danger. The danger hadn't bothered her much. Okay, it had bothered her a lot, but she'd enjoyed bond enforcement for the most part. No two days were the same, she didn't have stupid office hours, and she normally didn't have to wear pantyhose. Playing in the band, however, topped bond enforcement in adrenaline rush and excitement. It also helped that no one tried to kill her anymore and she had a steady paycheck since they were successful enough as a cover band to make a living. She loved the constant support from people instead of continual censure.
The lock on the suite door clicked and she swung her head around to see Merc enter the room. He walked toward her with a concerned look, dragging his feet. "What's up?" She asked.
"Iggy has the flu. I hope he recovers before Saturday." He dropped onto the couch beside her and looked at the guitar in her hands. "More practice?"
"Sort of." She redirected his attention away from her guitar and said, "And don't worry about Iggy. He has four days and he takes good care of himself. We only have a set of eight songs so he won't get too strained if he's still feeling weak."
"I know. I just wish we had one more original song. We need to move away from covers and introduce our own stuff, but it can take time to put a new song together." He leaned over and put his head on Stephanie's shoulder and she reached her arm up to curve over his head so she could stroke his hair. His arms wound around her waist and he snuggled in close. She could smell his cologne and felt her eyes glaze over slightly. It'd been a long time since she'd allowed herself to acknowledge her attraction to any male, but she was almost to the place where it couldn't be avoided anymore.
She and Merc had continually gotten closer over the last several months. Their moments were too close for comfort at times for Stephanie; she was frightened of giving in to her base desires, so she ignored them. To explore the Merc feelings meant she had to explore the Ranger feelings and she wasn't ready to detonate that bomb, yet. Unless he pressed the issue, they could both pretend they didn't have any temptation.
Instead, she focused on the problem at hand: the music. She chewed on her lower lip, and held her breath for a few seconds. Merc looked up at her and his eyes held hers for a beat. "What are you thinking?"
"Well," she blew out her breath, "I've been working on a song for the past couple of months, actually."
He sat up and really looked at her, curious and a little excited. "Yeah?"
Stephanie nodded. "Yeah. It's as finished as I can make it on the acoustic. I haven't tried an electric part, yet. Every time I thought I should just stop trying to write, it wouldn't leave me alone."
"That's the way songs are written, Belle. Let's hear it. What's it called?" He lifted his head and turned sideways to face her and drew his legs up to sit cross-legged with his elbows resting on his thighs, hands dangling down between, relaxed.
She cast a nervous glance at him and then shrugged. She trusted him not to be cruel, but to be fair. "Uh, I call it Let Me Go. Okay, here goes, but don't say I didn't warn you. It's not much right now."
She began to strum lightly on the guitar Geo and Merc had given her soon after she'd come to live with them. She played through the first few bars and then she let her voice pour out the words she wrote a few months ago, all of the emotions she kept locked inside flooding out through her music:
Show me something I can see.
Tell me words, say anything,
to bring me back to life.
For everything, a price to pay.
Yours is nothing, so you say,
I know it's just not right.
I gave up when we were through.
Tell me why I still feel the things I do.
I need my heart back in one piece.
I'm asking you to set me free
from the memories inside.
They're taking my life.
I thought leaving was the way,
but I think of you every day.
You're in my soul,
I'm sure you know
I'm still under your control.
Just let me go!
Words are running through my mind
you've said to me over time.
Can I ever go back?
Touches lasting on my skin,
love that warmed me from within.
Will I survive the lack?
I was so in love with you.
Tell me why I couldn't separate the two.
I need my heart back in one piece.
I'm asking you to set me free
from the memories inside.
They're taking my life.
I thought leaving was the way,
but I think of you every day.
You're in my soul,
I'm sure you know
I'm still under your control.
Just let me go!
Well I'm over the trying,
And I'm living for dying
to the one who took my heart.
And I'm running on empty,
ever since you left me.
You have torn my world apart.
I need my heart back in one piece.
I'm asking you to set me free
From the memories inside.
You've taken my life.
I thought leaving was the way,
But I think of you every day.
You're in my soul,
I'm sure you know.
I'm still under your control!
Just let me go!
I need to let you go!
As the final notes faded out, Merc sat completely still, his eyes never left her face. Uncomfortable with his silence, Stephanie opened her eyes for the first time since she'd started the song to peek at him. After a few moments of silence, he leaned forward and framed her face with his hands, then bent to kiss away a tear from her cheek she hadn't realized escaped her eye.
She leaned forward into his embrace and his arms tightened around her. Stephanie didn't want him to see the raw emotions she experienced when she sang her song. To share it with him now was to open the wound she'd closed off so many months ago when Ranger took away her last shred of hope. Merc gently tipped her head up with a fingertip under her chin to meet his gaze and said in a cracked voice, "Belle, that is–"
"I know, I told you it wasn't much," she groaned and tried to pull back out of his light hold.
Merc shook his head and held her steady against his chest. "I was going to say it is a powerful song. There's this incredible emotion that comes out of you when you sing it. Belle, this song is perfect, just what we need. It's something people can feel for themselves."
She blinked in disbelief. "I'm not a song writer, Merc. I've only just played around with this. Will you stop that and listen to me?" He'd been shaking his head since she'd started talking and it grated on her nerves.
"You don't understand. It's real music when you write from a place deep in your soul as you have. This is the freedom that has become Stephanie Plum. Let Me Go – it's more than just a song title, it's you taking off, Belle. You're flying. The world is your playground; you can go anywhere, be anyone. This is you in control of your own destiny." Merc beamed a smile at her and increased the pressure of his arms. With her body pressed close to his, he bent his head to press a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. Her lungs stopped and her heart tripped into double time at the contact. All she could think was: Wow.
He slowly released her and scooted back until their bodies were no longer in contact. Once free from his devastating warmth, she turned her mind back to his words. The way he put it, Stephanie realized he'd summed up what she felt as she'd penned the words to her song. It was the epitome of her break from the bondage of everything that held her back: no more expectations from her mother, no more constant criticism, no more Morelli demands or Ranger craziness with fifteen men sent out to tail her every move. Stephanie Plum was totally free. And it hurt like hell.
"Thanks, Merc." She stood and walked across the room, to rest the black, shiny guitar on its stand near the other instruments. "I'm gonna go take a nap for a while, I'm drained."
"You've got it, Belle. What do you want for dinner?"
She shrugged. Food didn't exactly appeal to her at this moment, but she knew she would be starved later. "Whatever. You know me, no brown rice or vegetables."
His chuckle followed her into her bedroom. She closed the door to shut out the world and the Merc thoughts and stripped down to her panties and t-shirt. She climbed into the large bed and tossed around for a while before a fitful sleep overtook her. From the recesses of her mind came dreams of mocha latte arms around her body in a tight, comforting hold. A feeling of safety surrounded her, even with just the memory of his protection, and eased her into a deep, satisfying sleep. It was a satisfaction she never reached when she was awake, a connection to the man her heart still loved which she consciously denied herself.
*\/*\/*\/*\/*
Ranger woke and reached out to tug Stephanie against him, but his hand met with a cold, empty sheet. With a sigh, he flipped over onto his back. The feel of her in his arms had been so real; he could smell her hair, feel her warmth, and touch her skin. Unable to let go of her phantom while he remained in bed, he slipped from beneath the covers and went into his closet to pull on some workout clothes. He needed to get her out of his head; the ache was too deep tonight.
A/N: Song 'Let Me Go' written and copyrighted by xboxbabe.