Everyone familiar still belongs to Janet. The mistakes and new characters are mine.
"Keep your ass where it is," I ordered Shiv, when he made a move to go inspect the damage my shot had done. "You wanted me involved ... now I am, so we do things my way or I cut you out and settle the score myself."
"Getting shot at clearly makes you cranky."
"No, me getting shot at makes my wife cranky ... which isn't good for anyone involved. There's a strong possibility you meeting her for the first time will start with her fist finding a home in your gut."
He was more amused than scared ... a testament to him not knowing Stephanie.
"I don't have 'a gut'," he assured me. "You could scrub socks on what's under this suit, but I do like this woman of yours already. No wonder you married her. Which I'm not gonna lie ... surprised the shit out of me."
I recalled the multiple conversations Steph and I had ourselves about getting married. "It surprised the shit out of her, too."
"The two of us definitely need to meet," he said with a boyish grin.
Once again, Steph's reach is long and another man is down for the count.
"That's not happening now," I told him. "People in your immediate vicinity tend to get shot at. She is not going to be one of them."
He understands that some people you can't risk ... which is why he was asking for my help outright instead of waiting for me via word-of-mouth to question what he got himself into this time. Me almost becoming collateral damage means everyone at Rangeman will be extremely invested in knowing Espada's life expectancy.
I called Miami's version of Tank. "I need a crew to clean up the mess I left in the apartment across from Shiv's," I informed Wrecker. I gave him the address and told him what had just taken place. "My eyes have stayed on the place, and I haven't seen or heard anything in it or running from it. My instincts say there was only one shooter, and I've already eliminated him."
"Fuck. Helluva vacation you're having," Breaker murmured. "First a psychotic husband to locate ... and now this."
"It's been interesting," I agreed.
"I escorted Stephanie and your girls up to the seventh floor, but they only stayed long enough to look quickly around. They're currently touring the control room."
My eyebrow went up at him using 'Stephanie'.
He doesn't know me as well as Tank does, but he can figure out what I'm wanting an explanation for.
"Ya know, I tried calling her Mrs. Manoso, twice," Wrecker continued, "but she told me that she'd have your 'Olive' spit up on me if I didn't call her Stephanie or Steph. I wasn't sure if she was joking or not ..."
"She wasn't," I said, ending that conversation. "Not only do I want all traces of the body scraped up here, I want to know who it is, why he was allowed access to the building, and I'll need two men on Shiv."
"I don't ..." Shiv started to say.
"What did I just say to you?" I asked him.
"That this is yours to run."
I nodded and got back to Wrecker. "We'll be assisting Shiv in locating Espada ..." I glanced back at Shiv.
"What? You think I know his 'government' name?" He asked. "I've been working with only his street one."
I wanted to roll my eyes. Clearly he's just a big fish in a small pond. "Get Hector and Álvaro talking," I ordered Wrecker. "I want a name and location by the time I get back. I'll also need some men on Shiv's sister's family. No children are getting shot on my watch."
"Yes, Sir."
I disconnected and called the control room to check who my ladies are messing with before I have to ruin Steph's day with a personal call telling her about this.
Launcher picked up. "Au secours!" He said with no small measure of drama.
"What do you need help for?" I asked him.
"Your fille has me in a headlock."
"Julie or Olivia?"
I felt incredibly proud that I actually have to ask which daughter is torturing him.
"Le bébé Olive," he answered under mock duress.
"You just switched from speaking English here to French on the phone ... are you talking to Ranger?" Steph said in the background.
"Les murs ont des oreilles," he whispered, no doubt pissing Steph off in the process.
"What did you just tell my husband?" She demanded. "Olive, hug 'Oncle Lanceur' harder until he tells Mama what she wants to know."
Launcher is right ... walls do have ears. Especially the ones around Stephanie.
"Sauve qui peaut!" He advised with obvious effort, as Olive neck-hugged answers out of him.
I'm not running for my life, I thought to myself, nor running from it. He'd be better off taking his own 'Run!' advice, because my wife managed to wrestle the phone away from him. A grunt from Launcher confirmed her actions.
"I'm fine, Babe," I immediately told her.
"You'd better be. What happened?"
"There was an attempt made on Shiv's life ..."
I could feel her reaction to that bit of news. It isn't a good one. "While you were with him?" She asked, much too calmly.
"Yes."
I could almost see her cover Olive's ears, and tell Julie to cover her own, as she cursed her way through her fears.
"Is the guy dead?" She asked a beat later.
"Shiv or the shooter?"
"Ranger ... now is NOT the time."
I had to try. "Shiv's alive. The shooter is not."
"Good. Get home now. That's not a request in case you were wondering."
I knew it was more of an order than a plea. "I'm alright, Babe. I promise."
"I want to see that for myself. You didn't take the car with Olive's car seat in it, do you really want us to come to you?"
She knows neither of us would put our children in danger, so she didn't have to wait for me to say that I'm leaving now.
As she was handing the phone back to Launcher, I heard what she was saying to our daughter ... "Okay, Olive, when Daddy gets back, you and Julie get to keep an eye on him because Mama's got some work to do now."
