Thank you, as ever, for your wonderful reviews. I love getting reviews, they are so motivating to me in my writing. If you have not reviewed the story before, I would love to hear from you! :)

OK, so you might be a bit surprised by this chapter. I was surprised my muse led me down this track, but I have to follow her - she's in charge! So some angst coming up for a couple of chapters. Please bear with me; I'm a Babe, and we'll get through it!

Blow Up

I had drawn in my breath to call out to Carlos over the speaker phone when Marco spoke first. "Ranger!" Marco called, "Great to see you man! Did you just get back?"

"Thanks. Yeah, got in this morning," Carlos replied.

Lester continued, "It's good to see you man, but why are you here in Miami?"

"What do you mean, Santos? Why wouldn't I be here? Rangeman operates out of Miami."

"I think he meant, why are you here now, Primo. Why didn't you head straight back to Trenton?" Marco answered dryly.

"I don't live in Trenton, Marco. I live in Miami. I have a temporary apartment in Newark."

"But Steph?" Lester queried. "Steph's in Trenton." I wondered if they had all forgotten I was still on the other end of the phone, but I couldn't help holding my breath as I listened.

"I haven't spoken to Stephanie yet, Santos. It's none of your business. Meanwhile, I'm waiting on a report about Rangeman in Miami."

Tank spoke up, sounding confused, "Everything's fine Ranger. New accounts, we're growing nicely. Several high-dollar recoveries in Miami and in Trenton." He emphasised the last word a little sarcastically.

"Good," Ranger ignored the implication. "I'll expect a full report by the end of the day." The men made murmured sounds of agreement, but I was struck speechless. What does that mean? What is he saying?

Apparently Tank and Lester had forgotten I was still on the line, as they called brief goodbyes to Marco and Ranger and left the conference room, apparently to go and compile a report. About Rangeman Miami? I wondered. After they left. Marco spoke again, "What's crawled up your ass, Carlos? What's with the attitude?"

"Nothing." Ranger refused to be drawn, "Just concentrating on business. This is a place of business."

"And we're your friends and family. And we haven't seen you in weeks. I think it's natural to be surprised when you just show up, especially when none of us expected you to come here. And you're barking orders like you own the place."

"I do own the place," came Ranger's dry reply.

"Co-own actually." Marco's response was even drier. "So, I don't actually answer to you. So, I repeat, what's going on."

"Nothing," Ranger said again, his voice ice hard. "I just came back to the main location of business. To see how our business is performing after being away for weeks. I'm getting the feeling that nobody thinks I should be here, but I don't really give a damn. I have a right to be here."

There was silence for a moment. Then Marco spoke again, "Let's start over, shall we? Maybe we can get past the attitude." He paused then continued, "Welcome back, Carlos. It's great to see you here and looking well. I hope the mission was a success. I'm pleased you're here, but surprised to see you here, since I expected you to head straight back to New Jersey, where you've been living and trying to establish a new business. Not to mention dating a woman who's been waiting for you. I just anticipated you'd want to go there first. Any particular reason you came to Miami straight away?"

I swore I could hear Carlos sigh, which I had never heard him do before. When he spoke, his tone had softened slightly, but he still spoke without much emotion. "Thank you, Marco, it's good to be back. The mission was fine. I came to Miami as I wanted to talk to the team and get back into the business. I know we were looking at expansion, but I've had some second thoughts. I'm not sure New Jersey is going to work. So, I came to Florida to see my friends and employees." He finished with finality.

"Why? What happened?" Marco asked, confused. "Everything has been progressing really well while you were away. The FTA side is booming in Jersey, and Steph has been a real asset in research and tracking the skips. And Ramon inspected the Trenton buildings and is ready to sign on to finance the expansion with the Haywood Street building. The business plan is rock-solid. I don't understand what's changed." By this point, I was sure even Marco had forgotten I was still listening in.

"I just had time to think on the mission. Put things in perspective. I was rushing into things too quickly, allowing circumstances to dictate my direction, instead of planning and strategizing properly. I just realised I needed to take a step back and rethink. We can talk about it more when I've settled in."

"And Stephanie?" Marco asked.

"Rethinking that too," was all Carlos replied. But it was enough to devastate me. Completely.

I couldn't take any more and hung up. I wasn't sure if they would know I had been listening; if they would hear the noise of me disconnecting; if they would see the light go off on the speaker phone. I didn't actually care. I just sat in my misery, looking at the phone in devastation at what I'd heard.

I was not sure how long I sat, just feeling numb. I was startled when the phone rang in front of me. I looked and saw it was Marco's number. I couldn't face any more today, so I let it go to the answering machine. I slowly stood. I pulled all the Rangeman-owned paraphernalia out of my bag, the cell phone, the defence weapons, and some paperwork. I picked up the keys, and locked the door, leaving the office and trudging slowly down the stairs. I considered leaving the keys to the office in the mailbox, but they wouldn't fit through the slot, and I couldn't lock the mailbox again without the key to the box. Despite my devastation, I refused to leave the office so unsecured. So, I decided I would mail them back to Carlos', Ranger's, apartment in Newark.

Tomorrow. Maybe. Not today. At least I now knew what the niggle on my spidey sense had been. But I still wished it had been something else. Anything else.

Two days later, I sat silent in my apartment, staring unseeing at the television. I had not been out since I had arrived home after that fateful phone call, and I was not really feeling up to going out even now. Except I'd pretty much run out of food and was going to have to eat hamster nuggets if I didn't go grocery shopping. Maybe I just won't eat at all. Who cares, anyway? I thought in morose depression.

My phone had rung pretty much constantly. My answering machine was full, and I had turned off the ringer, tired of listening to it ring incessantly. I wasn't sure who was calling me. Probably everybody. Everybody except Carlos. I hadn't heard from Carlos. Every time the phone had rung, my breath held until I knew it wasn't his voice. Then my mind went numb again.

I was shocked out of my miserable brooding by a knock on the door. I stood slowly and started to walk to the door but had to reach out and steady myself against a wall as a wave of dizziness swept over me. Wow, I really needed to eat something; my low blood sugar was really kicking in. The knock came again, sounding impatient, and I made my way to the door, holding onto the walls as I walked. I looked through the peephole and was startled to see Lester standing there. What was he doing here?

I debated not answering the door, but as I stood there, I heard him speak clearly. "I know you're there Steph, I can here you and see your shadow. Let me in please."

I still hesitated, but eventually I reached out to unlock the door and open it. Lester stood looking at me then moved toward me. I jumped back slightly, and he paused, "Can I come in, Beautiful?" he asked gently. I hesitated one last time, but then nodded in acquiescence. I stood back to let him in, and then turned and walked back to the living room, still steadying myself on the walls.

Lester locked the door behind him and followed me. I took a seat silently, still feeling quite dizzy. Lester watched me intently and then sat on the sofa beside me and reached over to pick up my hand. Despite him seeking me out, he seemed at a loss what to say, or at least, how to begin.

When I finally spoke, my voice was cracked from disuse and I croaked, "What are you doing here, Lester?" He looked at me, before standing and walking into my small kitchen. He opened the fridge and looked inside, seeming resigned to see nothing there except some coffee cream and a bag with two baby carrots in it. He pulled out one of the carrots and turned to slip it into Rex's cage. Rex scurried out of his soup can, grabbed the carrot and dove back into the can with it stuffed into his cheeks. Lester smiled at the wiggling, furry butt sticking out of the can as Rex enjoyed his treat. Then Lester pulled a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with water at the sink. He brought it over and handed it to me. I sipped at it, somewhat gratefully, and then repeated my question.

"I'm here to see you," Lester replied. "You haven't been answering your phone. Everybody's worried about you." I looked at him sceptically and gave him a very pointed raised eyebrows look. Obviously, not everybody was worried about me. Somebody sure wasn't standing on my doorstep.

Lester looked a bit sheepish at my glance, but defended himself, "I'm worried about you. Marco and Tank are worried about you. I'm sure Tricia and Connie and your family and other friends are worried about you too. Connie tried to contact you about an FTA. When she couldn't reach you, despite repeatedly calling, she called me."

I looked at my hands holding the half-empty glass, "So you're here to pick up a skip?" I asked. "Are you still doing that? Here in Trenton, I mean."

He looked a little uncomfortable but answered, "It gave me an excuse to come. But I wanted to come anyway, and I would have come the second you called. If you called. And yes, we still have a contract with Plum Bail Bonds. I told Ranger I would be honoring the contract he signed, as long as it was still in play. Marco is in full agreement."

He looked down again, "How are you holding up, Steph? Are you ok?" I looked at him, the misery pretty clear in my face. I reached forward to put the glass on the coffee table. He sighed, picking up my hand again, "I'm really sorry Steph. Sorry you had to hear my cousin being such an ass. And sorry he hurt you. Marco realised you were still on the line as you hung up. I don't know if he told Ranger, but when Connie called, he told me to get my ass to Trenton ASAP to check on you. He cares, Steph. I care. Ranger might be behaving like an asshole, but we're still here for you."

Despite my misery and despair, I hadn't cried. I had just been numb, disbelieving. But Lester's gentleness and caring broke through my barriers and I finally broke down, sobbing. Les drew me into his arms and just held me as I sobbed out my misery and confusion.

After endless minutes, I was lying in Lester's arms, occasionally hiccupping and breathing jerkily. Les reached forward with one hand to pick up the glass on the coffee table and hand it back to me. I gulped down the remaining water thankfully and inhaled a shaky breath.

"Thanks," I croaked. "Why Les? Why is he doing this? What did I do?" I wailed.

He gave me a slight shake on my shoulders, "Nothing!" Lester exclaimed. "You've done nothing wrong, Stephanie. This is all Carlos. Marco, Tank, and I talked about it, and we think something must have happened on the mission. Something that's got him all screwed up in the head. It does happen, you know. The kinds of situations he goes into, well… They can really mess with you, Steph. And if you won't talk about it, with family or a loved one or a therapist, then you end up dealing with it in destructive ways. He's shutting everything down; all emotions, all social interactions, all consideration beyond the business. It's self-destructive and damaging to everyone around him, but we haven't been able to get through to him. The one thing to hold onto, though, is that it's all him. None of it is you."

I thought about that for a while, and I tried to understand. It wasn't easy, and I was not ready to forgive him, but I tried to understand why he was acting this way. I couldn't help thinking, if only he had come home to me. Somewhere I could talk to him, make him see reason, get him to talk to me. But he was in Miami, and I was here, and he would not welcome me visiting him.

But didn't he at least owe me an explanation? A visit? A phone call? If he didn't know that I knew he was back, he was being selfish and cruel, letting me keep waiting on him. If he did know that I knew, he was being cowardly and cruel not talking to me. Either way, he was being cruel. That realisation was the key. Suddenly, my misery was pushed to the back by anger. And anger brought me some of my strength back. Anger, I could handle. Anger, I could deal with. Anger, I could use. Use to pick myself back up and get back on my feet. Use to rebuild my life, even if it was without him.

I'm a survivor. I've survived other setbacks and challenges. I can survive this too. With this thought burning in my mind, I fell asleep in Lester's strong arms.

I woke about two hours later, lying on my sofa, still in Lester's embrace. I sat up groggily. Les awoke when I did, if he was actually napping, and smiled at me gently. I returned the smile as much as I could and stood to walk unsteadily into the bathroom. I relieved myself, blew my nose, and washed my swollen, puffy face and brushed my hair back into a ponytail. I wouldn't be winning any beauty contests, but I was still feeling the strength borne of anger, so I knew I would be ok.

I walked back into the living room to see Lester sitting on the sofa, casually watching tv. He looked up at me as I walked over to him and smiled. "You must be hungry?" he asked, "There's certainly nothing to eat here. Wanna get something delivered?"

"Sure," I agreed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good. Where should we order from and what do you want?" I gave him the number of my favourite Chinese takeout that delivered and told him to order me cashew chicken and fried rice. He grinned and made the call, ordering himself sweet and sour pork and plain rice. He also ordered a liter of coke and some fortune cookies.

When the food arrived, we ate watching news on tv. After I had cleaned up the takeout containers and cups, Lester turned the tv off and said, "Ok. So, we have another skip to catch. I collected the file from Connie before coming over. I need your help, as always, with the research and tracking."

I was strongly taken aback. "What? What do you mean?" I shook my head in confusion. "I assumed I wouldn't be working for Rangeman anymore if there wasn't going to be a Trenton office. I didn't think I still had a job."

He raised an eyebrow, "You have a contract with Rangeman, and you haven't resigned or been fired. You've been on personal leave for two days, but it's time to get back to work. We still have an office here and equipment, and as I said before, a contract to collect FTAs with Plum Bail Bonds. So, I need your help," he finished with a small smile.

I shook my head again, "I don't know if I can do that, Les. It seems… I don't know… weird? He doesn't want me anymore. I can write a resignation letter and you can take it back with you."

"So, you're just going to give up? He hasn't even broken up with you, and you're just going to slink away, no job, no plans for the future? Doesn't sound like the Steph I've seen before." He challenged me.

I thought about that for a moment. He was right. I hadn't resigned, hadn't been fired. Carlos, Ranger, hadn't even broken up with me. He was a coward remember? Too chickenshit to come and see me and tell me what the hell was going on. So why was I going to lay down and take it? No! I wouldn't! I was the Office Manager and Research Assistant for Rangeman Trenton. If Ranger wanted that to change, he could show up and talk to me about it.

Meanwhile, I would help Lester catch another skip. I was strong. I could do this.

Don't kill me! He's Ranger! He has to be an ass sometimes! I mean, sending her back to another man after sleeping with her - what the... is that?!