Chapter 7

Ranger

The last person I expected to see, when I arrived at my parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner after a six month government mandated absence that left me battered and broken, was Steph. She was gorgeous as ever, standing on the sidewalk in skin tight jeans, knee high leather boots and a navy blue knit sweater visible under her half-zipped coat. Her make up was subtle, serving only to enhance her natural beauty, and her hair was loose, allowing her wild curls to bounce and sway as she moved her head slightly, mumbling to herself.

I watched her from the shadows between street lights for a minute or so, hoping she would move along and I would be spared having to acknowledge her on my way to the front door.

She didn't, though. And thanks to the beating my body had taken over the last several months on top of the most recent injuries I was still healing from, I had neither the patience, nor stamina to wait her out much longer. And really, I reasoned as I adjusted my crutches under my arms to move forward into the light, she was still here after a year, so Marco must be serious about her. I'd better suck it up and accept that this was life now.

As I drew closer, I noted the expressions playing across her face: worry, grief and sadness, occasionally masked over by a fake, pleasant smile. The clench of my gut told me something was wrong, and if I was resolving to accept her as part of the family, then I needed to make sure she wasn't in danger at the very least.

"Steph," I said, cringing inwardly at how scratchy my voice still was. "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped around, blue eyes wide with surprise and shining with unshed tears. I saw the moment she recognised me, her spine stiffening as her gaze roved over the notable parts of my appearance: the bruises, the bandages, the cast.

"I'm fine," she said in the most unconvincing tone I'd ever heard. "What about you? You look like you've been through the wars."

I wanted to laugh at that. What an understatement. And what she could see of my injuries was just the tip of the iceberg. My entire abdomen was black and blue, and if it weren't for the painkillers I probably wouldn't be able to move, which was part of the reason I'd enlisted Ram to drive me here from Trenton. The other part was because I was still working on acclimating myself to civilian life and having him watch over the house while I spent time with my family would allow me to relax just a little more and not feel the need to be constantly checking my six.

And knowing that Lester and Bobby would be inside helped too. I would have plenty of back up if something happened and I reacted on instinct.

Instead of relaying all that to the woman in front of me, though, I said, "I'm fine also." and because I didn't have anything else to say to her, I nodded toward the house. "We better go inside before Mama comes and drags us in by the earlobes."

I geared up to move again, bracing for the aches and pains to resume with the movement when I realised she didn't appear ready to go. She was staring at me like I'd grown a second head, which I supposed was my fault for being so standoffish toward her previously.

"Come on," I prompted, lifting a crutch toward the house. "No point being sad and cold."

This time I didn't wait to see if she would move, just swung forward and assumed she would follow. If she didn't, I'd send Marco out to retrieve her, I knew he was already here. That wouldn't be necessary, though, because as I reached the bottom of the porch steps, she raced past me to hold the door open for me to enter unhindered. And then we were inside and the difference in ambient temperature did wonders for my pain riddled body as the tension in my muscles eased.

There was nothing quite like the embrace of my parents' home after a long, hard, mission. I could feel myself starting to relax just from stepping over the threshold. It was like the mission was never truly over until I went home to visit Mama and Papa. And thanks to a delayed release from hospital and about a thousand meetings at work that needed to happen before we went to skeleton staff for the holiday period, I hadn't had the chance to make a special trip like I usually would have.

I let Steph lead the way to the living room once we'd removed our coats, and had just passed through the open archway behind her when my brother's voice boomed from our right, making me flinch.

"Merry Christmas, Steph!" he cried, drawing my attention. "Merry Christmas, Car-" he cut himself off as Steph let out a choked sob and dashed past me out of the room."-los…" he finished half heartedly, confusion spreading across his face as I took in the woman practically sitting in his lap, twining her fingers through the slightly too-long hair at the nape of his neck. "What the hell was that about?" he asked innocently.

I saw red.

The fucking gall of this piece of shit that called himself a man! He didn't even have the decency to- "For fuck sake, Marco!" I bellowed, acutely aware of the way the suddenly went silent, all eyes turning toward me and my brother as I dropped my crutches, surged forward and seized him by the front of his sweater, dragging him to his feet.

That broke the silence. The room erupted in shouts as everyone tried to work out what was going on, how to stop it, and who would be the sacrificial lamb to try. I was aware of all of it, my heightened state of awareness keeping track of where each family member was even as I focused on my brother's lying, cheating, no-good, dirt-bag, shit-scared face.

Good. He should be scared, because I was going to give him a beating so hard he'd wish he was never born.

"How fucking dare you do this to her!?" I seethed in his face, shaking him for emphasis with every word. "You're despicable! Not even worthy of the attention I give to the shit on the bottom of my boot! You're fucking pond scum!"

I released him with a shove, following him at a hobble as he stumbled backwards.

"I don't understand," Marco breathed, his voice unsteady. "I didn't-"

"You didn't have the common decency to break up with your fucking girlfriend, so you let her come to fucking CHRISTMAS DINNER AND DISCOVER IT ON HER OWN! YOU-" I swung my fist, connecting with his jaw, and sending him to the floor. Unfortunately, he managed to grab the front of my sweater and with the cast on my left leg, my balance was already compromised enough that he easily pulled me down with him.

"I. Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About!" Marco bit out, attempting to get the upper hand by grabbing my head with one arm, his fingers seizing my hair and tugging hard as he punched me in the stomach with the other. I blocked a few of his attempts before his knee shifted between us, drawing my attention just long enough for him to land a solid blow just under my ribs in a spot that was already looking like the start of a galaxy painting.

I hissed in a breath, but didn't let the shooting pain distract me, reefing my head out of his grasp and rearing up on my good knee, fist balled and drawn back ready to strike.

A hand grabbed my arm from behind, firm and unyielding, pulling it back further with a thumb pressing into my wrist until I was forced to relax my hand. I tried to shake them off, to use my other fist, or my head to dislodge whoever was trying to prevent me from teaching my brother a lesson, but I was weak, and off balance, not at all at my peak. And in the next second I was flat on my stomach, my arms twisted behind my back and my face smushed into the rug.

"Ranger," Bobby's voice said low in my ear, calm and steady. "You need to calm down and get a grip."

I growled at him, shifting my hips to try to throw him off, but he doubled down on his efforts. Ordinarily, Bobby only had a fifty percent success rate when we sparred, but as I've already pointed out multiple times, I wasn't at my best. He'd gotten lucky and used the timing and my position to his advantage.

"If you keep going like this you're gonna rip your stitches and set your recovery back weeks, if not months," he informed me, still showing no signs of being out of breath or worried I'd break free. Then your mom will show you how much she appreciated you attacking other son out of the blue, and you'll be back to square one: a hospital bed and a catheter."

That did the trick. I hated hospitals and Bobby knew it. If there was one way for him to get through to me in my current state, it was to threaten me with more fucking hospitals. No thank you. I forced myself to relax and take as deep a breath as I could between my bruised ribs and Bobby's weight bearing down on me.

"Better?" he asked, not loosening his grip in the slightest.

"Better," I croaked, wincing at the pain talking brought. Just great. I thought it was getting better, but clearly screaming at Marco at the top of my lungs hadn't helped the progress I'd made so far.

"I'm going to let you go and help you up," Bobby explained. "But if you make any sudden movements, or I think it looks like you're gonna go for Marco again, I won't hesitate to knock you out."

"I thought you didn't bring drugs like that to dinner," I said, craning my neck to see his face. He was serious.

"I don't, usually," he agreed solemnly, showing me the syringe as proof of his warning. "But you've only been back three weeks after a clearly difficult extended mission, and your family can be a bit much at the best of times. I wanted to be prepared in case something happened."

I let the rest of the tension drain from my body. "Thanks," I breathed. It was a relief to know that he had my back and was thinking of the family.

He climbed off my back and helped me up and over to the sofa Marco had been sitting on when I entered, settling me onto it and dragging the coffee table closer to prop my cast on it.

I surveyed the room.

It was quiet. The yelling had stopped as soon as Bobby had a hold of me, but it wasn't silent. Mama and Marco appeared to be arguing. Elena, Fi and Celia were discussing something in fervent whispers, occasionally sending a glance to me, or Marco, or the door to the hall. Papa and Tio Roberto were murmuring quietly together, their eyes trained on me. My sister's partners were all stood in the middle of the room, between me on the couch and Marco at the opposite side of the room, eyeing us both, tensed and ready to jump if either of us tried to start another round (it was a laughable thought, when you considered their lack of training). Tia Lili, Marco's new girlfriend and Lester were all missing, as were the kids, so I figured at least one of them had herded them out of the room when I lunged for Marco, and at least one other had followed after Steph to make sure she was all right.

Bobby sent Papa a small nod, probably to let him know I was back in control.

Papa nodded in return and stepped forward, an air of authority about him that instantly chafed at me. It was like I was a teenager again and he was about to send me down to Miami to live with Abuela and keep out of trouble.

"What's this about Marco breaking up with Opal?" he asked, brow furrowing. "What was she going to discover at Christmas dinner?"

Confusion hit me like a fist to the face, which, in retrospect probably should have made me feel a little worse about punching Marco, but it didn't. I may be calmer now, but I was still angry about what he'd done to Steph. "Opal?" I questioned.

"Marco's girlfriend," Bobby pointed out quietly. "You said Marco didn't have the common decency to break up with her."

I shook my head, suppressing a grimace at the new ache in my neck I was made aware of. "Not his new girlfriend," I said, wanting to roll my eyes at how dense they all were. "Steph."

There was a gasp from over where my sisters were huddled and Elena's voice carried over the murmurs that had sprung up around the room. "Madre de Dios! This is just like the time you broke Marco's arm because you thought he ate all the cookies."

"I didn't break his arm," I defended automatically, the same way I did everytime one of my family members incorrectly recalled the events of that day.

And right on cue, Marco's muttered, "Nearly," reached my ears. I was never going to be free of that one lapse in judgement.

Everyone was looking at each other, sharing meaningful glances and murmuring anew, but I just grit my teeth and glared at the toe of the sock on my cast. The tell tale tingle on the back of my neck let me know Steph had returned from wherever she'd fled to. I wanted to look at her, to make sure she was okay, but Papa spoke again before I could turn my head, drawing my attention to him instead.

"Let's start at the beginning," he uttered, sounding about as tired as I felt. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and gestured to me with the other. "Carlos, why did you attack your brother?"

"Because he upset Steph," I said, deliberately choosing a half truth because I had a sudden feeling I was missing some vital pieces of information that were about to make me look like an idiot, or an asshole. Possibly both.

"All I did was -" Marco tried to defend his action, but Mama knocked him in the side of the head.

"It's not your turn, hijo," she snapped.

Rather than acknowledge Marco's interruption, Papa turned his attention toward the doorway, and I followed his gaze to find Steph standing there, twisting her hands in the hem of her sweater as all eyes fell on her. "Did Marco upset you?" Papa asked quietly.

Her eyes widened, lips popping open in surprise. "Oh, um, n-no. He didn't, um, I mean, he just… and I…"

I could see the tears forming in her eyes again and fought the urge to throw the closest thing I could find across the room at Marco when he blurted, "All I did was wish her Merry Christmas, and she ran off crying."

"Wait your turn!" Mama admonished with another head slap. Really he should have known to bite his tongue. He knew how these things went. One side of the story at a time.

"I'll allow it," Papa said mildly, holding a hand up in his wife's direction, but never taking his eyes off Steph. "Is this true?" he asked gently, and when she nodded, he followed up with, "What's wrong, hija?"

"I…" she started, her voice cracking on the single syllable, causing her to pause to get herself together, and smiling gratefully at Lester when he took her hand, squeezing it. "I got fired today," she sighed, averting her gaze to the floor in front of her. "And I was trying to put on a happy face for everyone so I didn't ruin Christmas by bringing everyone down, but I couldn't. I'm sorry. I-"

Now I was really confused. Shouldn't Marco's new girlfriend being here have factored into her reaction at least a little? If I was dating someone and they showed up at an event with a new partner on their arm, I'd be livid. "So you weren't upset about Marco's new girlfriend?" I asked pointedly as Papa pulled her into a hug. Maybe she was just too embarrassed to admit it in front of so many people.

Her head lifted from Papa's shoulder to meet my gaze, confusion clear in her eyes. "Opal?" she said, exactly the same way I had earlier. "No. Why would I be?"

Elena snorted. "Yeah, Carlos," she jeered. Why would Steph be upset about Marco and Opal?" She had that shit-eating grin that I loved when we were kids and she would conspire on plans with me. Now that we were adults, though, I hated it because it seemed she only brought it into play when she was making a point of how stupid I apparently was. "Say it, hermano," she prompted. "Admit what you thought was going on between Steph and Marco."

"Steph and Marco?" Lester repeated, a note of confusion in his voice, too. I'd definitely missed something.

Elena's grin spread wider when I just grit my teeth and glared, staying quiet. "You thought they were dating, didn't you?" she said. "Tell us, Carlito. Don't be shy."

I gave a single, slow nod of the head to confirm she was right, and the room erupted once more, this time in laughter.

"How long have you thought that?" Bobby asked quietly, leaning forward with interest from his perch on the arm of the sofa.

"The entire time," I grumbled, pressing myself deeper into the cushions, like they might be encouraged to swallow me whole. "Since she first came to family dinner last Christmas."

"Oh man," Reynaldo chuckled, shaking his head.

"It was a logical conclusion," I defended my assumptions as the laughter started to die down. "Marco was the only family member without a partner, and he was spending a lot of time with her."

"Because she's fun to talk to!" Marco said exasperatedly. "Which you would know if you took a break from being a loner to get to know her." He paused, glanced around the room, and added, "Or any of us, for that matter. If you actually asked about our lives and spent time with us, instead of swooping in and out of family dinners like Batman, maybe you would have realised Steph and I weren't dating sooner and spared yourself some embarrassment."

He might have a point about that. Maybe I'd taken my keep-my-distance-to-protect-them stance a little too far. Like hell was I going to admit that now, though. Not for everyone to hear, and certainly not while Marco was looking so smug.

"Hang on," I said, a thought occurring to me. "Why did you get so defensive when I confronted you about it in January, then?" I asked, and I had to suppress my own smug smile when his face turned red.

"Because I- I…" he stuttered, taking a step away from Mama.

"Marco," she warned, following him.

"Because I thought you were referring to the girl I was actually seeing," he admitted, still inching away, even trying to use Serafina as a shield when he reached her. "I should have realised how unlikely it was that you would actually know something about my personal life, though," he tried to deflect.

"So you were seeing a married woman?" I clarified for the benefit of the room, because I wanted to invoke Mama's wrath.

"Yes, but I broke it off after that dinner," he said hastily when Mama screeched his name the same way she usually did mine when she noticed I'd slipped in without her noticing. "You were right, Carlos," he added for good measure. "Sleeping with a married woman wasn't a good idea."

"Sleeping with!?"Mama screeched in despair. "Marco Jose Manoso, how could you!?" And there in began the beating I'd been hoping for.

I was smiling at the spectacle, enjoying the fact that I'd successfully deflected the attention from my own fuck up to Marco's when the girlfriend - Opal, I recalled - appeared in the doorway.

"Is everything sorted out?" she asked tentatively, peering around. "Dinner is ready and Lili and the kids are just finishing- Marco?" It took her longer than I thought was acceptable to notice her boyfriend cowering under Mama.

"He's fine," Lester assured her casually, grinning from ear to ear. "We'll all start making our way to the dining room."

And that was all it took to mobilise fifteen adults, everyone taking their current conversations down their hall. I was slower than usual due to the cast and the fact that every movement caused pain, so I was still levering myself off the sofa by the time most of them had trailed out of the room. Bobby was still by my side, making sure I didn't break something else with my efforts, and by the time I was upright, Steph was standing in front of me with my crutches and a sheepish expression.

"I thought you might need these," she said, holding them out to me and Lester and Bobby exchanged a meaningful glance, and walked away, leaving us alone.

"Thanks," I said, accepting them and wedging them under my arms. I took an extra second to make sure they were situated just right before looking directly into her eyes for what felt like the first time. And given my shitty behaviour towards her in the past, it was entirely possible. "I should apologise f-"

"To your brother?" she interrupted. "Yeah, probably. Not only did you punch him in the face, but you set Mama on him. Do you really think that was fair?" She was smiling, so I figured she wasn't all that concerned about Marco.

"No," I corrected her. "To you. I must have made you feel unwelcome over the last year."

She shrugged, her curls bobbing and sending up a waft of that summer ocean scent. "It wasn't so bad," she said. "It's nothing compared to how my Mom treats me. And besides, you were MIA for half the year, so I really only had to put up with your bullshit for six months." Again, she was still smiling, and I realised with a start that I'd been missing out on witty conversations this entire time.

"I…" There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but all the words I could have said dried up in my overtaxed throat as a puzzle piece dropped out of the sky and fell into place in my brain. Steph was no longer forbidden fruit. In fact, she'd never been forbidden fruit. Which meant… I swallowed hard, definitely not ready to make a fool of myself so soon after the last time by pursuing that thought… "We should go sit down before all the potatoes are gone," I said instead."