Stephanie

I made it home before I broke down. Carlos wouldn't be allowed to contact me for at least a few days. He had a mission to complete - the debrief. Everywhere I looked reminded me of Carlos. It was almost paradise while he was with me. How was I supposed to survive without him?

Carlos leaving felt like my heart got ripped from my chest by some vicious beast enjoying the misery of the carnage he left behind. I was barely recognizable. The person I became was someone I never wanted to be.

Losing Joey Jr was unbearable, but Carlos going home nearly killed me. It gutted me. In ten weeks, Carlos became my world. He was the air I breathed. I lived to take care of him while he took care of my needs. Carlos was the love of my life. I should have gone home with him. Regret filled me until I burst into a wave of fresh tears.

Why was I so emotional? I couldn't understand why Carlos leaving was worse than my son's death. Something else was going on, but I couldn't think logically to figure it out. I should have reached out for help. Shaking my head, I roughly wiped the tears off my face and dragged my stinking body into the shower.

The phone rang in the background, beckoning me to answer. I didn't want to talk to anyone except Carlos. But I was too much of a mess to talk to him if he did call. He didn't need to know I fell apart after driving him to the airport. I know it affected him as much as me.

My clothes were stiff from dirt and sweat. How long ago did I shower? I couldn't recall. Was it with Carlos our last morning? I wasn't sure. Trying to find the answer gave me a headache. After discarding my solid clothes on the floor, I turned on the water as hot as I could stand. I stepped inside the enclosure, letting the hot water assault my sin - punishing me for letting Carlos go home without me.

I was a wreck - a capsized ship slammed into the shore, breaking in half. It caused the separation between what I wanted and needed to obliterate. I never realized the fine line was gone - slowly erased by Carlos. Fate continued rubbing my nose in my mistake. Man, I messed up big.

The phone rang a second time, shrilling in the background as I continued to ignore it. Whoever kept calling should leave a message and let me return to the despair I deserved. I was relieved when the noise stopped. Hopefully, the person would take the hint and stop interrupting my pity party of one.

Thinking about the sexy Cuban American set me off again. I wailed as the hot water sprayed on my face, washing away the saltiness of my tears. When was the last time we made love? I couldn't remember. Was it the night before he left? I only knew it wasn't in the last few hours we had together. What day was it?

My days and nights blended together. The passing of time was not registering in my mind. I was simply going through the motions. Pfft. Who was I kidding? I was barely surviving.

Food and water didn't appeal to me, but I forced myself to eat, having learned that lesson after Joey Jr died. Why was I suffering more now than when my son passed away? I knew the answer. Carlos chose to leave. Joey got taken away.

I rubbed my aching abdomen. When was my last period? I couldn't remember. My phone app should hold the answer, but I was too distraught to check.

It took a few days for me to stop crying. I felt pathetic when I tried to work and kept wiping my eyes with tissues. Why was I crying so much? My phone rang several times per day, but I ignored it. Before driving Carlos to the airport, I programmed his phone numbers to play the Batman theme song. Carlos thought it was amusing. The memory only caused me pain and reopened the floodgates of tears. Why did I want to stay in Hawaii?

Pounding on the door snapped me from getting lost further inside my mind. I looked around the house, seeing the mess I had left behind while caught in the endless loop of despair. It was embarrassing. My mother would have a heart attack if she saw the filth. The knocking persisted, preventing me from cleaning the room.

Unable to avoid the confrontation, I kicked the pillows aside, clearing a path and went to answer the door. I hoped it was Carlos coming for me, but I was disappointed.

Misha stopped by my house when I didn't answer her calls after a week. "Hey," I said, snuffling when I answered the door.

"Mitch, are you okay?" Misha asked. She assessed me. I knew she could see I had lost weight. My eyes were probably red and swollen from my crying. I lowered my head, noticing the fresh snot on my shirt, showing my friend I was not okay.

"No," I replied. "I have a story to share before you tell me why you kept calling." It was time to tell Misha the truth and stop hiding my past. The only way to move past the grief was to share the story. I grabbed the photograph of JJ from the end table and passed it to her.

"He's adorable. I've never seen this picture before. Is he your nephew?" Misha asked. She likely noticed the resemblance. Since I never mentioned having a child, it was logical to assume the boy was my nephew.

"Whenever you visited with Caleb and Kyla, I hid the picture in my dresser drawer. The boy isn't my nephew. He was my son," I replied. "I've been lying to you and Caleb since I moved here."

"Mitch," Misha said, stopping when I held up my hand to interrupt whatever she tried to say. I needed to tell Misha the story before I lost the courage.

"Michelle is my middle name. I'm Stephanie Plum. I moved here after I divorced my husband, Joseph Morelli," I explained.

"I assumed you were getting away from someone. Couldn't you live in the same city as your ex-husband? Or did he get custody of your son?" Misha asked.

"My ex-husband killed my son. He drove drunk and got into an accident," I whispered.

"Did you get injured in the accident?"

I shook my head, then told her everything from the beginning. Misha gasped and said, "Oh no," at the appropriate spots. "What should I call you?"

"Steph," I replied without looking at her. I was relieved Misha finally knew the truth. A heavy weight got lifted off my shoulders. Maybe I could move forward. It was exactly what I needed to heal from my son's death. "Please forgive me for hiding the truth."

Misha grabbed my hands and gently shook them. "Steph, please look at me," she asked. I looked into her tear-filled eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to endure that pain and suffering. It's a shame you had to leave your home to escape everything. There's nothing to forgive. What are you planning to do next?"

"I don't know. I feel so lost without Carlos," I confessed. "We didn't know each other long, but I know we're supposed to be together. I should have gone home with him."

"Carlos? Was that who you nursed back to health?" Misha asked.

"Do you know who he is?" I detected an air of recognition passing over her face. It was the same expression I noticed when I introduced her to my cousin, Vince. Misha didn't know Vince was my cousin. I had introduced him as a friend. Vince wisely called me Mitch or Michelle in Misha's presence. Misha's face betrayed the deflective words she had on the tip of her tongue. I was prepared to call her on the bullshit. Not wanting to outright lie to me, Misha was incredibly honest.

"Caleb said his military friends were searching for Carlos Manoso, also known as Ranger. Is that who was here with you?" Misha asked, clarifying we were talking about the same man. My voice got stuck in my throat, so I nodded. "Did he go home?" she quietly asked.

"No. DC for debriefing. He hasn't called or emailed me since I drove him to the airport." I wiped the tears from my face when Misha released my hands to hand me some tissues. "Thanks. Carlos promised to call. What if he was only using me to scratch an itch?" I asked, confessing my worst fear.

"Sweetie, I think you need to call him," Misha replied, taking my hands in hers again. She removed the tissues from my hand and dropped them in the trash can. Misha patiently waited until I looked into her face. "Steph, it's important for you to call."

I searched her eyes for an answer. When I couldn't detect what she needed to share, I asked, "Why?"

"You're pregnant." I shook my head in disbelief.

"I can't be pregnant. I got my period, and we used condoms when I was fertile," I argued, unintentionally telling Misha we didn't exclusively use condoms. Most of the time, we got too caught up in the moment to grab a prophylactic from the box.

"Come with me to the clinic. I want to check." It took a few minutes for Misha to convince me to go with her for the ultrasound. My curiosity was piqued and I had to know. I grabbed a few bottles of water to drink on the way. Misha was quiet as she drove to the clinic.

I guzzled the water to let it filter through my body. We waited to ensure my bladder was full before checking my uterus. I got undressed, covering myself with the gown opening at the front. My phone was in my hand when I lay on the table for the examination.

"Sorry," Misha said when the cold gel hit my abdomen. Though I expected the iciness of the gel, it still made me jump. Misha pressed the wand into my abdomen, suspecting I was more than eight weeks.

I cried when I saw the blob on the screen. "How far along am I?" I asked. I tried to do the math in my head.

"You called for our help ten weeks ago. When was your last period?" Misha asked.

"Five weeks ago," I replied after checking the period tracking app on my phone. "The one before that was twelve weeks ago. You know my cycle isn't regular."

"Steph, gestation is nine weeks and four days. You're eleven weeks pregnant," Misha explained. I wiped the tears from my cheeks. What was I supposed to do now? "You have options. I could schedule an abortion if you want to take that route." I shook my head.

"I'm keeping the baby," I whispered. "I have to tell Carlos." My lip quivered as I remembered the story about Rachel and Julie. I didn't want to get married to provide my baby with a name and medical insurance. The company where I worked didn't offer adequate insurance to cover pregnancy. I wasn't sure what I needed.

"Hey, hey, hey, everything will work out," Misha said, wiping the gel off my stomach with a paper towel. Misha helped me sit up. "I'll print the image of your baby while you get dressed."

I wasn't sure what to do or how to get home. Maybe Hector could help. "Thanks, Misha. I'm going to contact a trusted friend. I'll let you know what I decide."

"Do you own the house?" Misha asked.

"Yes. I bought it under Michelle Pardo using my divorce settlement," I replied. I didn't tell Misha the money I got awarded was half of the life insurance policy I purchased for JJ. Joe was furious when he found out. "Why?" I asked Misha.

"You could rent it as an air BnB to make extra cash. Caleb and I would love you to stay with us when someone is using your home," Misha offered. It was worth considering.

"I wouldn't want to put you out. Let me think about it. I'm not sure what I want to do yet. There's a lot for me to consider. Once I know, you will know," I replied while getting dressed.

Misha passed me the sonogram image of my baby. She printed it on the plastic card, then gave it to me with the iron supplements and maternity vitamins. I thanked her for the impromptu appointment. Caleb met me outside beside his car. "Hey," I said, "are you giving me a ride home?"

"That I am," he replied. We didn't talk as Caleb drove me home. He parked in my driveway before asking, "Are you okay with that?" Caleb pointed to the maternity vitamins.

I wiped a tear off my cheeks. "I'm good. Do you have a few minutes to talk? I told Misha the story, I feel you should hear it from me," I replied. Caleb nodded and followed me inside the house. He patiently listened as I told him the story.

Caleb sighed. "I wondered if you were Stephanie," he confessed. I was gobsmacked.

"But…," I said, unsure of what I wanted to ask.

"Vince and I served together. He came to Hawaii to visit Misha and me," Caleb confessed. "We had other friends in the area when he was here. Finding you was a surprise, I'm sure. He was worried sick since he thought your ex-husband caught up with you."

"Are you saying that Vince thought Joseph Morelli killed me?" I asked, shocked that thought entered my cousin's mind when I disappeared. "I feel like an ass."

"Vince's demeanour changed once he found you. I didn't tell Misha what I suspected," Caleb said.

"Don't you tell Misha everything?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. I didn't believe him.

Caleb shrugged. "Eventually. I didn't tell Misha about you and Vince being related. Vince convinced me to keep your secret," Caleb replied. I hugged Caleb and exited the house.

Instead of cleaning my messy house, I grabbed my laptop to message Hector. I remembered he sent his name to my phone. "Wait a fucking minute!" I screamed. "How the fuck did Hector know my phone number?" I was angry and indignant before I sat on the couch. It took a fraction of a second to remember that Hector had provided me with the phone. "Of course, he has your phone number, idiot."

I shook my head and called Hector instead of sending a message on the dark web. "Hola," he answered, sounding too happy for my mood.

"Hi, Hector. It's me," I said, hoping he'd know who was calling.

"Si. Un momento por favor," he said. I understood the sentence. Yay, me! I waited for a few minutes before Hector returned to the call. "It's safe for me to talk now. I'm in my apartment," Hector explained.

"I know you've done too much for me already, Hector, but I need your help," I said.

"How may I help?" Hector asked.

It was hard for me to say the words, but I managed to force out, "Bring me home." I covered the phone as I snuffled.

"Are you sure?" Hector patiently waited for me to talk. I knew he could hear me crying. "You sound unhappy," he added.

"I'm pregnant," I whispered. "Your boss, Carlos, is the father."

"How did you meet him?" Hector wondered.

"He washed ashore ten weeks ago. I nursed him to health. We fell in love. Hector, he's my soulmate. I stupidly let him leave without me. Please, help," I begged. "I was wrong to stay behind."

Hector laughed. I got angry until he explained, "I'm not laughing about your pregnancy. You met Ranger. I find that funny. Ranger can protect you."

"I recall you saying that before," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What do you need me to do?" Hector asked.

"There's a flight to San Diego tonight, but all the flights to New York, Newark and Philadelphia got booked until tomorrow morning. I want to come home tonight," I replied. "I need a way to get home from San Diego."

"I'll handle it," Hector said. "Did you book your flight?"

I grabbed my laptop and entered my Michelle Pardo information onto the website to purchase my flight. "Yes. I leave in three hours. My friend would retrieve my car from the airport if I asked," I replied. "Flight number 6412."

Hector checked the information on his laptop. "ETA 10:35 pm?" he asked.

Searching for information about my flight, I replied, "Yes." I printed my boarding pass. It wouldn't take me long to pack and drive to the airport. I'd have lots of time before my flight left.

"I've got it covered. Call when you land," Hector said before hanging up. He texted, assuring me that he would arrange a way for me to get home.

Like a whirlwind, I cleaned my house. I stored the trash in the garage. Caleb and Misha would handle everything for me if I asked. I'd need to give them a key to the house.

I was exhausted when the private jet landed at an independent airfield outside Trenton, New Jersey. My long hair hung down my back in matching braids. I called Misha to arrange for her to pick up my car from the airport, but she arrived at my door instead. She helped me braid my hair in two French braids on the sides. I appreciated her help. It kept my hair from going frizzy during my trip home. I gave Misha my house key when she dropped me at the airport. She reassured me that Caleb and her would watch my house.

A Hispanic man waited beside a black SUV. He was around my height. His skin was several shades darker than mine. The teardrop tattoo below his eye indicated he had taken a life. It was likely for a gang initiation. His smile was radiant. "Hector?" I asked. He nodded. I dropped my luggage at the bottom of the stairs, then took a running leap towards Hector.

He chuckled as he caught me. I cried into his neck. "I'm so happy to see you," I whispered. "Your photo didn't do you justice." I had asked Hector for a photograph when he promised to pick me up. It wasn't that I didn't trust him. I didn't trust Joseph Morelli. He was probably monitoring the flight manifests in the local airports.

"Are you tired?" he asked. My stomach grumbled before I could answer. Hector kissed my cheek, then got me to climb into the front passenger seat of the car.

"Yes, and hungry," I replied. He shook his head and grinned. My grumbling stomach proved I was hungry. I shrugged when he got into the driver's seat after putting my luggage in the back. "You pointed out the obvious. I figured it was my turn," I joked.

Hector pressed a finger to his lips as he placed a call to Rangeman. I listened as he asked the woman, Ella, what I assumed was to put food in Ranger's apartment. It was an odd request, but the woman readily agreed. I assumed she was used to receiving odd orders from Hector.

We pulled into the underground parking lot for Rangeman. Hector parked the SUV with the other fleet vehicles. "Wow," I whispered. He grabbed my luggage from the back and followed Hector's lead from the car. Hector pressed the button to the elevator.

My eyes popped open when I saw a mountain of a man standing inside. I tried to hide behind Hector, but failed. The man jutted his head toward the elevator interior. I felt Hector gently move me from behind his back. He whispered, "Tank is here to help. I can't get you into Ranger's apartment. We need him."

I snorted, then followed him inside. Hector's lip twitched when I glared at him. I was calling bullshit. Hector was a hacker. He could get into the apartment if he tried hard enough.

"Are you Tank?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. I rolled my eyes, then pointed to the camera. "I've got it scrambled."

"Sweet. I'm Stephanie," I said, extending my hand for him to shake. Tank raised an eyebrow before taking my hand. My hand got lost in his. I sized him up, using my height as a guide. Tank had to be 6'6" tall.

"I know who you are," Tank replied.

"Is he here?"

"No," Tank answered. One word answers? I was going to need more than that.

"Soon?" I asked, smiling. See? Two can play this game.

Tank smirked, catching onto my ploy. I could tell he found me amusing. A phone vibrated in the enclosure. Tank removed his phone from a pocket on his leg. "Hector, my chopper arrived. I'm picking up the boss," Tank announced, speaking Spanish. I bit my tongue before spilling Hector's secret. "We're driving back."

Hector replied that he understood. Tank opened a door on the seventh floor leading into a gorgeous apartment. He left me inside with Hector before using the door down the hall to use the stairs.

"What did Tank say?" I asked. Hector told me. I was excited. "How long would it take for Ranger to get home?"

"Close to ten hours," Hector said. "Ella left beef stew on the counter. You should eat, then take a shower."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at Hector. "Are you telling me I stink?"

"No. I assumed you'd feel more comfortable after washing away the sweat from travelling," he replied.

"Good answer. You're not wrong. Thank you, Hector. If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone," I said, afraid he'd take it the wrong way and get offended.

"No problem," he said. "I'm in apartment 4A. To call me from the phone, press 9 4 1 2#."

"I'll send you a text message," I countered, yawning. I was tired. Hector kissed my forehead. I reciprocated by kissing his teardrop tattoo, then rubbed it. "Thank you."

"De nada," he replied before leaving. I locked the door behind him.

"Okay, little one, I'll feed you," I whispered, rubbing my abdomen. I ate the flavourful stew before showering using the body wash inside. It smelled amazing.

I was too lazy to open my luggage to find my sleep clothes. The walk-in closet beckoned me to enter. I found folded shirts on a shelf. Smiling, I grabbed one and pulled it over my head. It fell to mid thigh. I opened a few drawers, finding a pair of black boxers in the middle one. "You wouldn't mind, right?" I whispered. I pulled the silk boxers into place, rolling them a few times at the waist to keep them in place.

The bed looked inviting. I turned back the blankets and slipped between the sheets. "Oh, my God. His bed is heavenly," I moaned. I fell asleep when my head hit the pillow.