A/N: All cannon characters belong to Janet Evanovich.

I woke up disoriented, feeling like I was trapped in an inferno. I blinked away sleep, trying to right my sleep-clouded brain. The first hints of morning light were peeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I remembered I was in Atlanta in Ranger's bed. I did a quick assessment of the situation and found I was snuggled into Ranger's side. He was laying on his back with his arm under my head, curling around my back. I was laying on my left side, my body pressed tight into his side with my right leg slung over his thighs. We were both naked covered with the white sheet, the down comforter being lost sometime in the night.

The guilt filled me almost immediately. I had just cut things off with Joe, and here I was, wrapped up in Ranger's arms. I was in his bed after a night of hot sex, and the situation was looking a lot different in the morning light than it did in the dark last night. My mother's voice filled my head, saying "Slut." My stomach churned, and I knew I had to get up, even if it was unreasonably early. I couldn't stay in the bed with the guilt.

I tried to roll away to get away from Ranger's suffocating body heat, but my attempt at rolling away woke Ranger. He pulled me tighter into him, turning his head so his lips could connect with mine. His kiss started soft and gentle, gradually becoming deeper and more passionate. I felt my body awakening, wanting him. My mother's voice in my head changed from a statement to a scream. "Slut!" I also felt other parts of my body waking, and they were telling me something very different too.

I pulled from the kiss, sitting up to put my feet on the floor.

"Babe?" Ranger asked, confused.

"Gotta pee!" I said, high-tailing it for the bathroom. I locked myself in, breathing a sigh of relief.

I heard Ranger laughing from the bed as did my business.

Two minutes later, my bladder was empty and my teeth were brushed. I debated whether to stay in the bathroom indefinitely, or whether to get on with my day.

I hesitantly opened the door and peeked out. Ranger was scrolling through e-mails on his phone. I sighed and flopped back into the bed, and Ranger picked up where he left off.

"Um…." I said, pulling away. I felt my eyes go wide, even if my body was responding in ways my brain couldn't control.

"Babe." He sounded exasperated. "Really?"

I laughed nervously. "You didn't get enough last night?" I studied his face.

He smirked. "I can never get enough of you."

"We went five rounds last night!" I exclaimed. "I'm tired. And it seems a lot more complicated this morning."

"It's not complicated. We're two people that care about each another. We're not committed to anyone else. This is an acceptable way to spend our morning. I thought we'd make it lucky seven… once in the bed, and once in the shower."

I felt my breathing catch, and I think I moaned a little as he ran his fingers down my legs and across my breast.

"Babe," he said before his lips crashed onto mine.

He had reasonable rationale. Who could say no to that, right?

An hour later, we were both showered, dressed in Rangeman black, and standing in the small kitchenette. I had swiped some mascara on my lashes and gloss on my lips, and I'd dried my hair, brushing it into soft curls that skimmed my shoulders. I was making coffee, and Ranger was preparing breakfast. He was toasting bagels, and he had opened a packet of smoked salmon and the container of cream cheese.

"That's awfully domestic," I said pouring two mugs of coffee. I handed one to Ranger.

"I've lived alone for a long time. I've only employed Ella for six years. How do you think I ate before I owned the Rangeman building?"

"Hunter-gathering?" I joked. "I guess I never really thought about it."

"If you think this is impressive, you should see me do laundry. I even sort my whites."

"You don't own anything white," I said, rolling my eyes.

Ranger flashed a 200-watt smile, and pulled the bagels from the toaster. He spread both with cream cheese, and he put smoked salmon on one. He handed me the plain bagel on a plate, and I took a seat at the bar to eat. Ranger took a seat next to me, chewing his bagel while checking his phone.

I realized I hadn't checked my phone for almost a full day, so I stuffed the last bite of bagel into my mouth and went in search of the device.

Most people are attached to their phones, but for me, a phone is a necessary evil. Lots of creepy people have my phone number, and it doesn't seem to matter how many times I change it. I still get weird calls and texts. I stay off social media, and I rarely get e-mails except work-related messages from Connie. My message box is a repository for Lula's antics, Morelli's requests for sex, Grandma's requests for a driver, and my mother's suggestions I find new employment. My voicemail box is best ignored.

I found my phone in my messenger bag and tried to turn it on.

Dead.

I fished around in the bag for a charger. Nothing. I slapped my palm to my forehead and let out the most exasperated noise I could manage.

"Babe," Ranger said standing behind me, rubbing my back.

"I forgot my charger. My freaking PHONE charger. I'm a disaster."

"You're not a disaster, Steph," he said, taking my phone. "You had a lot on your mind." He crossed to the bar, picked up his phone, and made a call.

"Yo." Pause. "I need a charger on six for an iPhone." He disconnected.

"You have excellent phone manners," I joked, crossing to the bar. I took a sip of my coffee, and I put my plate into the stainless steel dishwasher.

Two minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. Ranger crossed the room and opened the door.

Ximena stepped into the small foyer, white charger cord in hand. She was wearing a skin-tight, dry wick, long sleeved black Rangeman shirt with black cargo pants. Her ensemble was completed with pink bunny slippers. She gave me a giant smile, and for a brief moment, I could see the family resemblance. I smiled back and crossed to her.

"Good morning," she said, handing the cord over to Ranger. Ranger plugged it into my phone and walked to the kitchen, presumably to plug it in. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to officially meet you yesterday. I'm Ximena," she said extending her hand.

I extended my hand to hers and shook it. She smiled and pulled me into a giant hug. "I've heard so much about you from Lester. I'm glad I finally get to meet the woman who tamed Carlos!" she finished.

I laughed out loud. I could tell I was going to like her already. She was as gregarious as Lester, but smaller and prettier.

"That's me," I joked. "Ranger's keeper, badass bounty hunter, the terror of the Burg…"

I looked to Ranger. His eyes looked like he was thinking about smiling, but it didn't reach his lips.

"I better finish getting dressed, I've got to meet the crew downstairs in fifteen minutes. If you get sick of my cousin, I'm across the hall in 6C. You're welcome anytime you need to escape the excess testosterone and serious disposition," she joked. "You're with me today, right? Looking forward to it!" She turned around, swinging her ass out of the apartment and closing the door behind her.

"I like her!" I exclaimed to Ranger, crossing the room to him.

"I thought you might, especially once you realized we weren't kissing cousins," he said, his nose buried in his phone.

I playfully smacked the back of his head. He gave me a look somewhere between a glare and a playful gape.

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned on my phone. I watched as the texts, voicemails, and e-mails started rolling in. I gritted my teeth and started filtering through the texts.

Lula, 7:58 pm: Vinnie went and did it. He bonded out that weasel ex-husband of yours. I'm just sitting around waiting for him to skip. I know you don't wanna chase his sorry ass around Trenton, but I wanna pop that little prick like a pimple for doing Joyce Barnhart on your dining room table, girl.

I wasn't thrilled to hear Vinnie had bonded out the scumbag, but the thought of stun gunning him and dragging him back to jail was somewhat satisfying. He wasn't likely to skip anyway. He had a successful law practice and a woman in his bed every night. He had too much to lose by skipping town.

Mom, 9:16 pm: Where are you? Why aren't you answering your phone?

Mom, 10:38 pm: Stephanie Michelle Plum, are you ignoring me?

Grandma, 11:49 pm: For heaven's sake, turn on your phone. Your mother has been ironing all night.

I sighed a frustrated rush of air, and I pulled up the voicemails. There were five. They were all from my mother.

Mom, 8:18 pm: "Stephanie, call me immediately." Long, pregnant pause. "It's an emergency."

Fear resonated through me. My mother's voice sounded scared. Something was very wrong.

I didn't listen to the other voicemails. Instead, I dialed my mother. She answered on the first ring.

"Stephanie?" she nearly shouted into the phone.

"It's me, mom," I replied. "I'm sorry I didn't get your call, my phone…"

My mother cut me off.

"It's Joseph."

I sighed. "Mom, Joe and I aren't tog…"

"He was shot last night on duty."

I felt my eyes go wide, my jaw drop, and my heart stop. I couldn't speak. I felt like I might throw up.

Ranger was at my side in an instant. He sensed something was wrong.

My mother continued speaking, and I could hear the tears choking her voice. "He was first to respond to a domestic violence call last night. He normally doesn't respond to calls like that, but it was in his neighborhood, so he went. He was going to wait for backup, but then he heard screaming and entered the house. He was shot twice in the chest and once in his head." She began sobbing into the phone.

I felt the tears streaming down my face, but I couldn't speak. Cold terror was running through my veins. My hands were shaking, and my knees were weak. It felt like someone was standing on my chest.

Ranger pulled me into the nearest chair, pulling the phone from my ear.

He held it to his ear, and spoke into it. I tried to focus on his words, but I could feel myself falling away.

"Mrs. Plum?"

Pause.

"Did he make it?"

Pause.

"Where is he?"

Pause.

"Thank you."

He disconnected, and looked at me. "Steph?" he asked.

I couldn't respond. I couldn't move. I was suffocating. I saw black spots in my vision.

Ranger quickly dialed another number.

"I need a medic on six."

Disconnect.

Time stood still. I couldn't focus on anything. My brain kept conjuring images of Joe being shot repeatedly. My heartbroken Joe was shot in the head. Everything around me was spinning and out of control. Ranger was talking to me, but I couldn't understand him. I heard someone crying out and realized it was me. I was hysterical.

I began falling in and out of responsiveness. I could feel my body moving, being laid on the overstuffed sofa. My feet were propped up and I was wrapped in a blanket, but it felt like I was watching from outside my body. An oxygen mask was fitted over my face.

"Steph, stay with me," I heard a female's voice begging. "You're safe. You're going to be alright. Just focus on my voice."

I tried to focus on the voice, but I heard the sound of rushing water in my ears.

"You're going to get through this, Steph. Stay with us."

I heard Ranger's voice next. "He's alive, Steph. He's admitted to Saint Francis. They think he's going to make it."

I felt a poke and realized I was being hooked up to some kind of IV. I felt a sob escape my chest before the walls fell from around me, taking me into total darkness.