Stephanie blushed as Carlos and Sally helped her get dressed. "Don't look, Carlos," Stephanie whispered. "I'm not looking my best." She tried to cover herself with the hospital flimsy gown.
"Babe, you look beautiful," he said. Sally smiled. Stephanie's husband was handsome and swoon-worthy. Ranger rarely left her side and paged the nurse whenever Stephanie was in pain. The man could read Stephanie like a book. It wasn't too difficult since Stephanie didn't have a poker face. Her expressions were easy to read. Stephanie knew it was an affliction. She wanted to hide her feelings, but it wasn't possible.
Carlos gently lifted Stephanie to pull the loose pants over her hips. "Who do I thank for the clothes?" Stephanie asked, assuming someone had purchased them for her.
"The shirt is mine, and the pants are Jeanne Ellen's," Carlos replied. Stephanie felt irrationally jealous when Carlos mentioned another woman. She felt the tears building in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Babe, Jeanne Ellen is my sister. You have nothing to worry about."
"Sister? How many do you have?" Stephanie wondered, letting her curiosity guide the conversation. Insecurity was still on the fringe. It was challenging for Stephanie to stow it away. Old habits die hard.
"I'll get the wheelchair," Sally said, leaving them to talk. Sally didn't miss Ranger's eyes flicking to her. She instinctively knew Ranger wanted to be alone with his wife.
"Four sisters and one brother," Carlos replied. "Jeanne Ellen is three years younger. She's the youngest."
"Where do you fit in?" Stephanie asked. She was pleased Carlos willingly shared details of his family. Carlos didn't appear to be the type to share.
"Fifth," Carlos replied. "Maria, Celia, Javier, Isla, me and Jeanne Ellen." Carlos pushed the hospital gown off Stephanie's shoulders and pulled the shirt over her head.
"Mmm. It smells like you," Stephanie said.
"I wore it for fifteen minutes," Carlos confessed. "Jeanne Ellen didn't have a baggy enough shirt for you to wear." Stephanie noticed Carlos wearing a black tank covered by a black button-down shirt. She wondered why he preferred to wear black on black. Was it part of his military training?
"You could have given me the button-down shirt," Stephanie said.
"I didn't want the buttons rubbing against the shallow cuts on your body," Carlos replied. Stephanie looked ready to cry. "Babe?"
"I'll never wear a bikini again," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Stephanie felt devastated. She wasn't vain, but no woman would proudly display those scars.
Carlos gently lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "Babe, you are beautiful. I see more than your injuries when I look at you. Beauty shines from within. Scars don't define who you are. They show where you have been. A warrior accepts the battles he fought and finds encouragement in the scars proving he survived."
"Really? You think I'm a warrior?" Stephanie asked, looking into his dark, loving eyes. She was taken aback by the intensity within its depths. Carlos wasn't hiding his emotions from her.
He brushed his lips across hers. "I know you're a warrior, Babe," Carlos replied.
"Knock knock," Sally said loud enough for Stephanie and Carlos to hear.
"Come in, Sally," Stephanie said with amusement.
"I have the discharge papers," Sally singsonged. "I have to go over the care instructions."
Stephanie blushed as Sally told Carlos what colour of discharge in her underwear was concerning. Sally continued with how to recognize the infection by the change in odour. Stephanie felt mortified. Would Carlos have to sniff her panties?
"Babe, you have nothing to worry about. I'll take care of you," he promised.
"I need your signature here, Stephanie," Sally announced. Stephanie nodded and signed the papers. Sally checked the documents before giving Carlos the page with the instructions.
Stephanie grumbled as she sat in the wheelchair. Her abdomen ached. The abrasions and cuts on her breasts twinged in pain as the stitches rubbed against the fabric. "Babe?" Carlos asked, sensing Stephanie was feeling some distress.
"The shirt is making the stitches on my chest pull," Stephanie replied, pulling the fabric away from her tender breasts. Stephanie knew the abrasions needed to heal, but maybe she should have asked for the bandages until she got home.
He kneeled in front of Stephanie. "Which is why I thought my t-shirt was better than wearing the button-down shirt," Carlos said. Carlos caressed her cheeks. "It's time to take you home. I know you want to leave this place."
"Where are we going?" Stephanie asked when Carlos stood up to get behind the wheelchair. Carlos didn't want to have that conversation in the hospital where other people could overhear. The men already had to stop reporters from getting into Stephanie's room. It was worse near the step-down room, which was why Ranger was glad the hospital moved her to a room they could effectively secure.
"Patience, Babe." His lip twitched when Stephanie grumbled about not liking surprises.
Carlos hung the duffle over the wheelchair handle. He pushed Stephanie through the hospital corridor until he reached the elevator, thanking the nurses on his way past their station. Stephanie insisted on pressing the button for the ground level.
Ranger was surprised to see his men waiting near the elevator when the doors opened. "Why are you here?" Ranger asked.
"To visit Stephanie," Lester replied as Ranger exited the elevator.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Carlos. "Woah. That's one deadly expression," she thought.
"Hi, I'm Lester." He extended a hand for Stephanie to shake. Stephanie didn't appreciate the men standing over her wheelchair. It was intimidating. She smiled, pushing her anxiety aside.
"Stephanie, but call me Steph," she replied. Stephanie introduced herself to Bobby, Hector and Tank. She touched her cheek beneath her left eye and said, "Lo siento, I'm sorry," to Hector.
Carlos helped Stephanie climb into the backseat of the SUV. He slid inside beside her. Stephanie grinned when Tank sat in the driver's seat. He easily filled the seat, but there was no wiggle room. Hector sat on Stephanie's other side, leaving Bobby and Lester to fight over the front passenger seat. A few rounds of rock, paper, scissors declared Lester the winner.
"Why did Bobby get into the front?" Stephanie asked. "Didn't Lester win?"
"We were fighting over the back seat, Steph," Bobby replied, as though it should have been obvious.
"Men," Stephanie mumbled. She watched Tank pull the seatbelt across his chest before laughing.
"Babe?" Ranger asked, his lip curled in amusement.
"Tank barely fits in the seat. You need longer seatbelts to accommodate that mass. Why is your nickname Tank? Is your surname Sherman?" Stephanie patiently waited for Tank to answer her question. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"I drove tanks in the army," Tank replied. His face lacked emotion, but Stephanie could see amusement dancing in his eyes.
Stephanie snorted. "Stop pulling my leg. I doubt you could fit inside the tank," she teased. Stephanie caught his glare in the mirror. It didn't intimidate her, but she realized he got stuck. "Wow. How long did it take?"
"What?" Bobby asked, confused by Stephanie's question.
"How long did it take to free Tank from the tank?" Stephanie asked.
"Three hours. We had to disassemble it," Lester replied. Stephanie held her abdomen as she laughed.
"Yuck it up, Little Girl," Tank said, grinning. "Did Ranger tell you the story?"
"No. So… is that how you got the nickname?" Stephanie asked, unwilling to let the story distract from hearing the answer.
Tank sighed. "Yes, and my last name is Sherman." Stephanie grinned as though winning the lottery. She was happy Tank confessed.
Ranger was pleased Stephanie got along with the men. Stephanie wasn't afraid when they towered over her in the hospital elevator. If she was, it never showed. "Have you been around military men before us?" Lester asked.
"Daddy's a general," Stephanie said, surprising the men. They assumed she didn't know. Stephanie snorted. "Men. I saw his dress uniform at his house. My Uncle Joe and Uncle Fitz served with him. Uncle Fitz is nearly Tank's size. I think he lives in Atlanta. Uncle Joe is the police chief. He's working on his campaign to become mayor."
"Joe Juniak is your uncle?" Bobby asked. He didn't detect any resemblance between Juniak and Stephanie. Bobby attempted to figure out the relationship. Was Juniak Helen's brother or the General's brother-in-law? Perhaps, he was an uncle not related by blood like brothers in arms.
"Yes. He's married to my Aunt Sheila. Uncle Joe is also my godfather. Sheila is my dad's sister," Stephanie replied. Bobby smiled when Stephanie provided more details. "Have you met Eddie Gazarra?" Carlos wondered why that information wasn't in Stephanie's background check.
"We've worked with him before," Bobby answered, picturing the eastern Slavic officer with flat pale blue eyes, white-blond hair, and a stubby nose.
"He married my cousin Shirley-the-whiner. Shirley's maiden name was Juniak." Stephanie told them about her cousin and Eddie. "They've been married for eleven years and have three hell-raising boys." She stopped talking and gasped.
"Babe?" Ranger asked.
"Morelli's bond expires today," she replied.
Hector removed the phone from his pocket to show Stephanie a photograph. Morelli was standing behind bars in the TPD jail cells. "Damn. I needed the money to pay back Lester for rent," she mumbled in Italian, forgetting Ranger spoke the language.
"I paid your rent, and you don't need to repay me," Lester replied. Stephanie asked why he would do that for a stranger. "You're with Ranger, and you have enough to worry about. I didn't want you to become homeless after getting injured on the job."
"That was thoughtful but unnecessary. I don't need your charity," Stephanie snapped. She hated being indebted to anyone. It made her uncomfortable.
"What on Earth did Dickie Orr do to you?" Tank asked.
Stephanie rolled her eyes, then explained how Dickie dragged out the divorce until she blew through the cash she had saved. "He left me with all the debts and the court fees," Stephanie said. "Richard Orr Sr was a ruthless divorce lawyer. He knew how to win in favour of his clients. It took me years to pay off Dickie's student loans. I didn't even know he had them. Dickie said his dad paid for college. That was one of the many lies Dickie told."
"So you're mad I paid your rent because you now feel indebted to me?" Lester asked. "Or because you don't want to rely on anyone supporting you?"
"Both," Stephanie replied. She looked at her hands and picked at the cuticles. "It's been my experience that people aren't kind or generous unless they want something in exchange. Usually, the price is too high, and the terms go against my moral code. I never want to be financially dependent on anyone."
"Is something else bothering you?" Bobby asked. Stephanie wanted to scream, "Yes," but wondered how to broach the topic.
Stephanie shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. How was she supposed to work? The doctor said she couldn't do anything for at least six weeks. She'd get evicted from her apartment or owe Lester more cash if he covered the rent for another month.
Tank wondered if Stephanie knew she had the money in her account. Since nobody said anything, he decided to speak, "Little Girl, the money from Morelli's capture is in your account. I deposited it myself."
"Why would you do that? The money belongs to whoever captured Morelli," Stephanie whined. Stephanie made a mental note to repay Lester for the rent. Maybe Carlos could help with transferring the funds.
"Your intel led to his capture," Tank replied.
Hector tapped Stephanie's arm. She looked at the man with the gang tattoo on his neck. He motioned for Stephanie to lean toward him. He whispered, "You need the money. I'll help you pay Lester back. Use the cash to cover the rent." Stephanie kissed his cheek in thanks.
"How long is left on your apartment lease?" Ranger asked.
"Five months," she replied. "I'm not sure I even want to stay there." The thought of showering in the bathroom increased her anxiety and heart rate. Her hands got clammy. Carlos felt Stephanie's hands sweat. He pressed her palm to his thigh, using his pants to absorb the moisture.
Stephanie looked out the window past Carlos. Tank pulled into the driveway leading to an underground garage. "Where are we?" she asked when she took in her surroundings. A few black SUVs were inside the space and parked several feet from the elevator. Stephanie saw a gorgeous black Porsche 911 turbo and a black Porsche Boxster parked in the spots closest to the elevator doors. "Sexy cars," Stephanie whispered.
"Home," Carlos replied, reminding Stephanie she asked about where they were. She got momentarily distracted by the sexy cars.
"Inside an office building?" Stephanie asked.
His lip curled into an almost smile, making Stephanie's hormones go wild. She couldn't do anything sexual with the man. Dr. Burt warned not to have intercourse for a minimum of six weeks. Stephanie had an appointment arranged with the surgeon to check the incision.
Carlos guided Stephanie to the elevator. He used a key to access the top floor. Stephanie wondered where they were going. Carlos opened the door on the left. He placed a hand on Stephanie's back and waited for her to slowly walk inside.
The stitches in her thighs slightly pulled as the pants rubbed against them. "Woah. Sexy apartment," she gasped. "Who lives here?"
"We do," Carlos replied. Stephanie turned around to look at him. He brushed the hair off her cheek, tucking it behind the ear. "Babe, the building is secure. I have a proposition for you."