Chapter 21: Never Back Down

She didn't think Tank had been kidding, so she set her alarm for 5:45 a.m. Ranger was up and ready to leave the apartment when she stumbled out of the bedroom, unshowered and unhappy.

"You're the boss," she told him. "Can't you keep this from happening?"

"I could if I knew what it was about," Ranger said.

"So, if I told you the entire story, you'd tell Tank I wouldn't have to do this?"

"Probably not," Ranger said. "When I'm not here, Tank is in charge, and I wouldn't usurp his authority unless there was a very good reason."

"Isn't the potential abuse of me a good reason?" she asked plaintively.

"Babe."

"Ranger."

"I don't know what you did that made Tank think you needed mat time, but you don't need to act like you're headed to surgery without anesthetic."

They stood and stared at one another for a moment, the realization of what they'd been through hitting them both with Ranger's careless remark about anesthetic bringing back the horror of the last few days. She went to him and wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly, and then she backed away.

"We've both got a busy day ahead of us, so I'd better go get this over with," she grumped.

"We do have business to attend to," he agreed. "I'm going to see Brian Simon early this morning. I'll be in and out all day. You should call Morelli this morning and get that over with, too."

She left the apartment and made her way down to the sub-basement of RangeMan. It was a place she rarely visited. As she exited the elevator, Vince and a new hire were getting ready to take the stairs up. They were sweaty with towels draped around their necks and looked to be full of energy. Apparently they hadn't had to face Tank. Vince gave her a sideways look, but said nothing. She entered the gym to find Tank waiting.

"I'm here," she said morosely. "Go ahead, hit me with your best shot. Let's get this over with."

Tank was placing dumbbells back on a rack, and he looked up as she spoke, and then did a double take. "Bad night?" he asked.

Stephanie looked down at herself. She was wearing the RangeMan t-shirt that she'd slept in, but she'd added a bra. Her yoga pants were old, but comfortable. Her Nikes were glow in the dark green. Nothing out of the ordinary there. She put a hand to her hair and noted the volume. Her curls had probably turned into frizz overnight.

"I didn't shower, okay? And I didn't put on makeup or comb my hair. What's the point if I'm just going to get beaten to a pulp?"

"Who's going to beat you to a pulp?" Tank asked, seeming puzzled for a moment. And then a wide smile broke out. "You think I called you down here to punish you?"

"Yes," she replied glumly. A low rumble sounded in his chest, and Steph realized he was laughing—at her.

"You think that's funny? Me, all black and blue?" she exclaimed, getting a little hot under the collar.

"Well, I do ascribe to the philosophy of no pain, no gain."

"No gain? I don't need to gain anymore pain. I've had enough pain this last week to last me a lifetime," she cried.

"I would agree," Tank said. "I didn't call you down here to punish you, I called you down here because I'm taking you on as a project."

That sounded a little condescending to Stephanie, and she puffed up a little. She wasn't anyone's project.

"Don't go getting yourself in an uproar," he said. "You've acquitted yourself well on two occasions recently. First with Grace, and then … yesterday. It seems you've got the shooting thing down pretty good." Stephanie winced at the term "shooting thing." She didn't like guns and she never would. She scuffed her toe against the edge of the mat and blew out a loud puff of air, not wanting to deal with any of this.

"I'm thinking," Tank continued, "that you need some serious hand-to-hand training. Something tailored to your size and your capabilities. So the next time someone attacks or abducts you, you'll have a better chance of getting away."

"I got away this time," she told him, shrugging her shoulders.

"You did, eventually. Life wasn't good for any of us when you were missing, though. I'd like to avoid that again." Their eyes met and held, until Steph broke the contact. Both seemed a little embarrassed. Tank cleared his throat and continued, "I'd like to train you. Here. Three mornings a week at 6 a.m. It's the only time I have free."

Steph stopped her fidgeting. He surprised her. "So, you're willing to take your free time to help me?" she said. "You made it sound as though you were going to put me through the wringer … work out your frustrations with me by flinging me against the ropes and then slamming me down on the mat."

His smile was wide, and all at once Stephanie had a glimpse of what she might have missed growing up without a brother. She ran across the gym and threw her arms around his middle as she had done earlier with Ranger, and held on tight.

Her time in the gym with Tank left her feeling empowered—a little tired but stronger. It wasn't that he'd taught her anything significant during the first session, but knowing that he cared helped bury the memory of the day before a little deeper. She wanted to spend some serious time in the shower, and then she'd text Joe. Talking with Joe was something she had to do, but it wasn't something she was looking forward to.

After her shower, she went through the clothes she had in Ranger's dressing room. Before her abduction, she hadn't been living exclusively at either apartment, so her clothes were spread between the two places. She didn't think it would be wise to meet with Joe dressed like a RangeMan operative. She settled on jeans and a blue stretchy t-shirt.

As she double-knotted her glow-in-the-dark Nikes, she thought maybe she'd actually get to run again. The danger was over, and her life should be getting back to normal. Should be were the key words. How did a person just get over killing someone? Especially someone she'd known and hadn't liked. When she shot Grace's attacker, she'd been shot as well. By the time she'd recovered, the entire attack had taken on a dreamlike quality. She hadn't known the man, and couldn't remember what he looked like. She remembered Terry. She didn't think she'd ever forget the sight of Terry going over the railing.

Later, while she was still thinking of excuses not to call Joe, her phone rang. Joe had taken the initiative.

"Hey," she said. She hated the tentative tone of her voice. She didn't know if she was angry or scared. She was definitely unsettled.

"We need to talk." He was abrupt, and her stomach roiled. Yes, they needed to talk, but could she handle it when he accused her of killing Terry? She had, of course, but it had been self-defense. "I went by your apartment," he continued, "but you weren't there. I'm assuming you're at RangeMan?"

"Yes."

"I'm parked in front of the building," he said.

Stephanie swallowed hard. She was afraid to see Joe Morelli, of all people. It would be nice to have some more time to think about it, but he was here and she couldn't put him off.

"Come on up," she told him. "I'll call downstairs and you can take the elevator to the top."

She was standing in front of the elevator as the doors slid open.

"Hi," she said, trying to hide her shock at his surprising appearance. He was dressed in jeans, his oldest, rattiest, most comfortable Levis, and a stained Trenton Thunder t-shirt. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles, and the set of his mouth was grim. His eyes were dark and unreadable. This had hit Joe hard.

"Come on into the apartment and we'll talk," she said. He nodded and followed her across the foyer and into Ranger's apartment.

As they walked into the living room, Joe smirked. "It must be true love," he said. "You gave up a prime off-Burg location at my place to settle into this one-bedroom apartment. I thought Mañoso would do better by you."

"This is a perfectly fine apartment," she started to defend Ranger's place. Joe interrupted.

"I'm kidding, Steph. I know Ranger's apartment wasn't his primary attraction for you. But still, I thought maybe you'd be living in something a little more upscale. RangeMan's a pretty successful enterprise, and a growing one. I just imagined you two would be living large."

"This suits us fine," she said, thinking of the still unseen Bat Cave, and the fact that she was to be married there in the very near future. She thought they would be living large, but she wasn't at all sure. She'd had a momentary flash of irritation at Joe's comments, and she wondered if he'd done it on purpose, because irritation was more familiar ground for them.

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Joe. For what I did to Terry, I mean."

He frowned. "I'm sorry about Terry, too," he said. "But not for what you did. As I heard it, you were fighting for your life. So ... I'm sorry she wasted her life, but happy she didn't end yours." They looked at each other, neither saying anything, until Joe looked away, clearing his throat.

"I thought you'd be angry that I killed her," Stephanie said. "I thought you cared for her."

"Terry and I go back farther than you and I do, Cupcake. She was someone I had feelings for, and as hard as I tried, I couldn't completely shake them. You know what that's like?"

Stephanie nodded, remembering all the times she'd given up on Ranger and gone back to Joe, only to be tempted to give Ranger another shot.

"You didn't kill Terry," Joe said. "I saw the autopsy report. She killed herself when she pitched over the railing. She broke her neck."

"That's semantics," Stephanie said. "I'm the one that shot her and made her fall."

"And she was the one whose behavior left you no choice," Joe said matter-of-factly. "If you want to wear a hair shirt and beat yourself up for what happened, I can't help you. But you should get help. That's a symptom of PTSD: survivor's guilt."

"I do feel guilty," Stephanie admitted. "I've shot people before, but this time was different. I knew her, and I didn't like her."

"Would it have been better if you had liked her?"

"No, but..."

"But nothing, Stephanie. It was a horrible situation, and you handled it well." He looked away briefly before meeting her eyes again. "I thought you might be mad at me, for not knowing she was capable of..."

"Capable of kidnapping, torture and cold-blooded murder?" Steph almost snorted, but there was no humor in it. "I never knew what you saw in her, and after this...She was crazy, Joe."

He couldn't look at her. "Terry was always on edge, quick to anger. I could usually calm her down, but there were times..." He looked over at Steph and shook his head. "I didn't know. I swear it. After I joined the TPD, we really didn't spend much time together, and what time we did spend, was ... in bed."

"There was a time when you cheating on me with Terry would have sent me into a tailspin, but all that's in the past, Joe. You are in the past. We've both moved on, for good this time. There's no turning back, for either of us."

Stephanie looked at Joe long and hard. "You look like you've been having a hard time with this," she said to him.

He nodded. "I have," he said, running his hand through his unkempt hair. "But not strictly because of Terry's death. I've been concerned that my involvement with her would come to light. I know that's selfish, but my relationship with Terry has hung over my head for years. She took you because of her feelings for me, and I'm sorry about that, Cupcake. I learned, in a roundabout way from Frank Bouchard, that you told him it was because of a high school rivalry. He told me he'd talked to some of your high school friends, and they confirmed it. The two of you had a long-standing dislike of one another."

"Mary Lou," Stephanie confirmed. "He talked to Mary Lou."

"He did," Joe said. "And I guess I owe her a debt of gratitude, too. You kept me out of it, and I am very appreciative of that. I'm in a position for advancement in the TPD, and having my relationship with Terry come out would jeopardize that. So, I came to tell you thanks, thanks for not implicating me."

Stephanie walked across the room and collapsed into the leather armchair. She felt relieved. She'd thought Joe was going to come in and have one of his Italian temper fits. Instead, he'd been somber, and calm. He didn't blame her for Terry's death, and somehow that helped her a little. He came to her and squatted in front of the chair. His fingers lifted her chin until they were making eye contact. "There's another reason I came, Cupcake. I wanted you to know Alison and I are getting married, soon, without fanfare. Like you said, I'm moving on, and, hopefully, moving forward in my life. I wanted you to know."

"Joe," she breathed. "Ranger and I are, too … getting married without fanfare, I mean. And soon."

He stood and reached out to take her hands. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in an embrace. It felt familiar, if a little strange to be in his arms. It had been a while. "I care for you, Steph, and I probably always will, but things will be different from now on. I won't seek your company, but I won't avoid you either. I guess we will be friends without benefits." He smiled and she smiled back.

Her arms went around his middle and she hugged him tightly, realizing this was the third man she'd hugged that day, and the day was still young. She wasn't hugging him like she did Ranger or Tank. This was different and it had the feel of goodbye.

"I'm sorry," Ranger said from the doorway. "I don't mean to intrude. I was unaware you were here, Morelli." Stephanie did a mental eye-roll. She hadn't heard Ranger enter the apartment, and that meant he was in stealth mode. As for not knowing Joe was here, nothing happened at RangeMan without him being aware, especially an ex-lover of his fiancé being in his apartment with her.

"You're not interrupting, Mañoso," Joe said. He let Stephanie slide from his embrace. "Stephanie and I were just saying goodbye." In typical Morelli fashion, he bent and kissed Stephanie on the cheek and walked out of the apartment and out of her life.

"Are you okay?" Ranger asked.

"I don't know," Stephanie said, truthfully. "I thought he'd be angry at me. Instead he was grateful I hadn't involved him. He doesn't want his relationship with Terry to stain his record and his chance for promotion."

"Understandable."

A sudden wave of emotion surged through Stephanie, overwhelming her. "Ranger," Stephanie swung around and faced the wall, forcing back tears, "How do you do this?"

"Babe?"

"How do you act as if it's just business as usual? You just escaped a life-threatening captivity. How does that not affect you?"

"It affects me," he said. "But you always have to look forward. Not dwell on what was, but what will be."

"Like our wedding?"

"Like our wedding," he agreed. "I'll make all the arrangements. No fuss, but still a celebration of our love. Are you prepared to do this?"

"Yes! I'm prepared in my mind, but ... I need to talk to Lula. We have to shop!"

"You've got two days, Stephanie, because in three days, we get married."

She felt his arms come around her from behind and she turned to face him. He bent his head and his lips claimed hers. It was a serious, heart-thumping kiss that left her breathless and wanting more. But Ranger pulled away and looked down at her.

"I've got a lot of experience dealing with this type of thing," he said, referring to her earlier question. "That helps. It also helps sometimes to talk to someone. RangeMan has a psychologist on retainer, and she's available to you any time you need her."

Stephanie gasped at the idea. "A psychologist?" she asked. "You think I need a psychologist."

"I'm saying if you need one, she's available. You have to make that decision."

"Have you ever talked to her?" Stephanie asked.

"I have." That was something to consider, and maybe she would talk to someone professionally trained to help. But for now she was going to focus on moving forward. She was getting married.

"I love you, Ranger. Can we go see the Bat Cave now?"

"No."

"But…"

"Three days, mi amor. I won't show you the Bat Cave until then."

She stomped her foot and he laughed. "Three days, Babe. Three days until the beginning of forever."

...

His morning's work was done. The wedding plans were underway. Ranger was worried about Stephanie. He hoped she'd be forthcoming if she continued to have problems dealing with her part in Terry's death. Now he was getting ready to deal with another complication caused by Terry's death. Vito Grizzoli. Vito's bodyguard came from the side of the house and motioned to Ranger. "He'll see you now. He's in the grotto."

Ranger nodded and followed the man through the manicured gardens, down the steps and into a small stoned-lined cave. He'd been here once before, in the summer. Now, in the winter, the grotto seemed an unlikely meeting place, but he knew it was a reproduction of one of Vito's favorite childhood haunts in Sicily. The watery sunlight lit only the first few feet of the cave, but he could see Vito sitting on a stone bench in the back.

"Come in, my friend," Vito said in his heavily accented voice. Vito motioned to the bench across from him, and Ranger walked silently forward and took a seat that placed him in an inferior position. His back was facing the entrance, not something he was accustomed to, but something he was willing to risk in his present situation.

"It is a terrible thing, my niece is dead," Vito said. Ranger said nothing. "Teresa underestimated her adversary, and she has paid the price."

"Your niece's death is regrettable. I'm sorry for your loss, but her death came at her own hands," Ranger said.

Vito frowned. "She did not take her own life!"

"No, she did not," Ranger agreed. "Terry—Teresa," he amended, "attempted to take the life of my fiancé and then attempted to take my life. She was unsuccessful. It was her miscalculation of the situation that caused the fall that killed her."

"Teresa was always headstrong, reckless, even as a child. What she did, she did alone." Vito studied the impassive man sitting before him and asked, "You desire vengeance for her actions?"

"I do not. Any need to avenge my fiancé's honor died with your niece. I have no ill will toward you or your family. I hope to continue a mutually respectful relationship with you … and your associates."

"The matter is over then. Thank you for coming to explain your position to me." Vito nodded to the man who had been standing guard.

"Mr. Mañoso," the man said. "Allow me to show you out."

Ranger stood and looked at the squatty little man sitting on the stone bench. He wanted to smile, but he kept his mirth hidden. Both he and Vito had their secret caves, it seemed. He much preferred his.