Lula’s POV

Me and Candy are in my temporary office at RangeMan handling business when Steph walks by.

“Hey, girl! What—”

One look at her face and whatever I want to say dies on my lips. Steph looks seconds from crying. I don’t hesitate.

“Go to the Escalade. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“I don’t want to be tracked.”

“Then you’re shit out of luck leaving this building. At least if we take the Escalade they’ll leave us alone.”

She stares at me before she finally nods. I duck back inside my office and grab my purse and keys. I have a class in two hours and I haven’t done the reading for the class yet. I grab my books and bookbag.

“Should I come?”

I look over at Candy. She has her purse in hand but looks uncertain. I think about it. “Nah. If anyone asks, she and I are together in the Escalade. Make sure you tell whoever has the bridge. Now. Go ahead and call them. You hold the fort.”

“OK.” She smiles and I wave goodbye. I take the stairs down to the garage and run over to the Escalade. Steph is pacing. I toss her the keys.

“Here. I haven’t read for my class yet and I need to at some point. So you cruise and we’ll talk.”

She unlocks the door and we climb in. “When is your class?”

“Two hours.” I get comfortable and put my books at my feet. “OK, girl. Spill.”

Steph starts telling me about the discussion with Tankie, Bobby and Lester as I direct her onto the highway. We’ll circle San Antonio. That should give us plenty of time to talk. I clap as she tells me how proud they were but I start getting pissed when she tells me how that discussion went downhill. At the end I’m fuming.

At every fucking person in that room, including her.

“OK, where you want me to start?”

“I don’t care.”

“OK.” I get comfortable. “One. They manipulated you.”

“Thank you!” she says, throwing her hands up. “I don’t think they quite get that.”

“Nah, hell no, they don’t. They just think they gave you lots of options and let you choose. They don’t realize they hit you when you were down.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t know why you’re so damn surprised, though.” She looks at me in surprise. “I haven’t even been around them that long and I’ve realized that these men, all the RangeMen, see fucking with people’s heads as a fun hobby. Entertainment. Sport. It’s part of their training, in the military and in gangs. Learning how to get people to ‘obey orders even when every fiber of their being says run!’ according to Tank. He and Les subscribe to psychology journals to learn how to do it better.”

Steph’s white. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I mean, isn’t that what intake is? Don’t speak, don’t do anything except what we tell you to do?”

“Yeah . . .” Her shoulders are slumping.

“So you start out as a RangeMan being trained and having your head fucked with. So you could say they treated you like a RangeMan.” I smile, trying to cut the tension.

“Not funny, Lula.”

“No, it’s not.” Except that it is. Another reason for me not to join RangeMan except that I really wanna help in the office. Sigh. “Two. You really told your bosses ‘fuck you’?”

Steph looks over at me. “What?”

I’m staring right back at her. “Yeah. That was a business discussion and you told your bosses ‘Fuck you’? You know you only say that shit when your next words are ‘I quit’. Is that what you meant? I quit?”

“Lula! That’s not what I meant. I . . . I . . .” she sputters to silence.

“I what, Steph?”

Steph’s jaw is clenching and unclenching. “I don’t want to quit. I just wanted them to apologize for manipulating me.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?”

“Because if I said, ‘I want you guys to apologize for manipulating me’, then they would have said ‘No. You made your own choices. We presented you with lots of choices and you made your own decisions.’ Which, by the way, is exactly what they said.”

“So why keep pushing it when it was clear they weren’t going to apologize? Why not stop and try to figure out another way to make the point?” I smile. “Like chasing a skip. If we don’t get him today we’ll get him tomorrow.”

She’s quiet for a long time. I open my textbook and flip to the chapter I need to read before looking back at her. She doesn’t say anything so I start reading. We’ve nearly gone completely around San Antonio before I speak again.

“Imma be blunt. They manipulated you and they were wrong for that. They owe you an apology. Now, the chances of you gettin’ that apology ain’t great cuz you told them to go fuck themselves. You were in the wrong there and I think that’s probably where that talk went south. You forgot that those men, who love you and call you their little sister, are also your bosses. They could fire you the moment you step back into that conference room.”

“They wouldn’t,” Steph says, eyes wide.

I shrug. “Don’t assume that. You know how the men in leadership feel about insubordination. Don’t they damn near kill you for that in Trenton?” Steph blanches. “So you told the senior leadership of the company to go fuck themselves and you don’t think that being fired is possible?”

“Ranger won’t let them fire me.”

“Ranger don’t own the whole company. He owns 25% and he’s got one vote. You told the other three votes to go fuck themselves. Besides, Ranger ain’t here and he ain’t in charge right now. Who’s the senior person in this company right now?”

Steph’s shoulders are slumped and she’s looking scared. “Tank,” she whispers, almost horrified.

“Yeah. You told my Tankie to go fuck himself. Now, frankly, that’s my job and I don’t need any help. I can handle that just fine.” That gets a small smile and laugh. “Yeah. So you owe all three of them an apology for that and if you don’t want to get fired, that better be the first words outta yo’ mouth.”

I get started reading my homework again and highlighting stuff. Steph’s still cruisin’.

“Was anything they said a lie?”

Again, we have another long silence. I check. I have 75 minutes before class starts.

“No.”

“Then what are you mad about?”

“It was the way Bobby said it.”

I sigh mentally. Bobby. I should have known. He knows how to hit where it’ll hurt most. Problem is, he usually right. “Brutal?”

She repeats Bobby’s words and, honestly, Bobby got it right again (‘cuz I’ll never forgive Clyde Cone) but it’s not about me.

“Was what he said wrong?”

Steph bites her lip and looks at me. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m neutral, Steph! If I wanna be a social worker, I gotta think social worker, according to Chenae. That means I have to consider all sides. I wanna be on your side but then Tank’s involved too. I’m tryin’ to be neutral and I’m trying to figure out how this argument ended up going bad so fast.

So far, the only thing I have is that you got pissed that they wouldn’t apologize for manipulating you and you told them to go fuck themselves. They were wrong for manipulating you but you were wrong for telling them to go fuck themselves. Now you tell me you got mad at Bobby.”

I snort. “I told you me and Bobby had it out. He’s blunt. He’s not gonna sugar coat shit. He tells you exactly what he thinks and you better be adult enough to handle it. I ain’t the only person he got. He got Tank’s baby sister too about her attitude and she needed it just as much as I did about the guns. Is that what he did to you?”

“No, he was fucking insulting to me.”

“How?”

“He told me to get a grip. He made it seem like everything was my fault! Like my skips came after me because it was just my fault!”

“Was this before or after you told him ‘fuck you’?”

She throws her hands up. “Lula!”

“Yeah, I know. And keep your hands on the wheel. Tank’ll have a fit if this truck crashes.” She grips the wheel tightly and grits her teeth. “Before or after, Steph?”

“After,” she says through gritted teeth.

I look at her like she’s crazy. “And before you said that, had they said anything negative to you?”

“No.” Again through gritted teeth.

“So they were positive and upbeat and praising you and you told them to go fuck themselves because they wouldn’t apologize for manipulating you?”

“They agreed to go gloves off! I could say what I wanted!”

Is Steph on some new shit?! “Gloves off means they can hit you back too, Steph! You slammed them and they slammed you back! You opened up tit for tat then got mad when they hit you?” I direct her to take the next exit. “So Bobby slammed you and you didn’t like it. Here’s a hint: don’t get into an argument with Bobby. You’ll always lose. I don’t know anyone who’s won one yet.”

“You know, if I wanted to be told how wrong I was, I would’ve stayed in the room with them.”

I look over at her. “You don’t want a friend right now. You want someone to sit here and tell you that you’re always right.” Steph looks at me in shock. “I’m not that one, Steph. So far, I’ve agreed with you in the number one thing you wanted them to admit. I agreed that they manipulated you and I think they owe you an apology. Now, I followed that up by telling you that you were wrong for telling them ‘fuck you’ and all of a sudden I’m not a friend? Turn right. We’re taking this back to RangeMan.”

I text ML and ask her to find Tank and request access to the 9th floor. She asks about Connie, Candy and Maria and I tell her no. They’re RangeMan employees. Plus, she and Steph go back to diapers. Maybe she can reach Steph where I can’t.

Tank’s up there and he’s irritated about being kicked out of the apartment so I text him.

You want to keep her as an employee?

It’s a close thing right now. An apology had better be coming.

I don’t know about that, but I do know that you won’t get shit if we can’t talk to her. So clear out.

Be grateful I love you.

I grin at the last message. Steph pulls into Tank’s bay and we get out, walk in and take the elevator to the 9th floor. ML’s lounging on our couch when Steph and I walk in. ML takes one look at her face and grabs Steph in a big hug. The tears that have been waiting finally fall and we watch as Steph finally cries. I tell ML what Steph told me, with Steph breaking in to correct me when I get something out of order and we wait for ML’s opinion.

“OK, here’s what I think,” ML says. “First, they manipulated you.”

“Exactly,” Steph sniffs.

ML hugs her tighter. “Two, you were wrong for telling them ‘Fuck you’.”

Steph stiffens again. “Why?”

ML sighs. “Because you never say that unless you plan to follow it up with ‘I quit’.”

Steph looks at ML then at me and bites her lip. “I don’t want to quit. I love working here.”

ML sighs heavily. “You want my opinion?” Steph nods slowly. “You never should have brought up a personal grievance during a work discussion. Even saying that you wanted to separate business from personal, that entire meeting was called to discuss the review of this branch. Did you have to say ‘Fuck you’ when discussing the other branches? Could you have said something else?” ML looks at me. “I mean, maybe it’s just me but it seems that’s the point where everything went downhill.”

I nod. “I said the same thing.”

It’s quiet. I got 30 minutes to get to class. It takes 15 minutes to get there. I need to leave soon.

“Better yet, I got a different question. When did they ever tell you they blamed you for the rest of the company?” I ask. “Seems to me they spent the morning telling you that, because of your great work around the company, they realized how weak the company was and thanked you for putting it back together. So where did you get the idea they blamed you?”

Steph sits back and thinks. Her shoulders slump. “Well, no, they never said it, but they blamed me for Trenton.”

“That’s not the same as blaming you for the rest of the company though, Steph,” ML says gently. “You took what they said about one branch and transferred those feelings to the entire company.”

“Well, they told me that weren’t able to focus on the entire company because of me. They said that this morning.”

“But they didn’t blame you, Steph.”

She snorts. “I didn’t say it was your fault. I said I’m going to blame you,” Steph says sarcastically. “Same fucking thing, Lula, and that’s what it boils down to.”

I sigh. “They didn’t say it was your fault and they didn’t say they blamed you. As a matter of fact, you said that they apologized for asking you to take responsibility for Trenton. Sounds to me like they not only don’t blame you but asked for forgiveness for blaming you in the first place.”

My cell phone beeps. My ‘get to school’ alarm. I sigh and pick up my books. “I gotta go to class. I’ll be back in an hour.”

I head down to the Escalade. Tankie is standing there.

“Well?”

“ML’s talking to her.” I stash my stuff in the truck and climb in. “I do agree with her on one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

I look Tank square in the face. “Y’all manipulated her and you were wrong for that. Be prepared to apologize for it.”

I kiss his cheek, shut the door, start the truck and head off.

---

ML’s POV

I’m watching Steph stare out of the windows, pissed. We saw Lula head to the garage and, shortly after she left, Tank walked out, a small smile on his face and lipstick on his cheek.

“I envy them,” Steph says.

“Why?”

“Because she and Tank talk.”

I laugh. “I know. I came up here and Tank was irritated but after two texts from Lula, he showed me around, invited me to help myself to the fridge and left.”

Steph smiles but it slowly falls. “Bobby said there was no point in talking to me.”

“Why?”

Steph laughs hollowly. “Because I’m incompetent.”

“He said that?”

“Not in those words.”

Steph. Always exaggerating. “Then what did he say?”

Steph huffs. “He said that there was no point in asking me to get training because they already knew I wouldn’t.”

“Why did they think that?”

“Because ever since I took this job my mother, grandmother, and Val have all been the ‘victims'”—she finger quotes—”of my ‘incidents’.”

I cringe. Bobby sounds like an ass. Does he understand how critical Mrs. Plum is? “What?”

“My mother has watched me get stabbed, shot, burned, nearly buried alive, nearly crushed, nearly gang raped and the list goes on.”

Oh my god . . . OK, maybe he isn’t so horrible. If that’s true . . . “Val?”

Steph hesitates. “Abducted to get me to come along quietly.”

I pale. “Your grandmother?”

Steph pales and swallows harder. “Stabbed by my FTA,” she whispers. “And she was locked inside a mortuary drawer.”

I mentally beg for Bobby’s forgiveness. I wished I heard this for myself but, so far, it sounds like he might have had a point. “Well . . . if all of that is true, Steph, I mean, as a mother, if you were my child and I’d seen that happen to you, I would be beside myself.”

Steph looks at me as if I’ve betrayed her but I simply shrug. “I’m a mother, Steph. What do you want me to say? That if Junior’s life was in mortal danger I’d just shrug it off? That if Kenny was abducted I’d ignore it? That if Drew were stabbed I’d forget it easily? I can’t say that! I’d be a neurotic mess, and even knowing that’s a partial list of all the things that’s happened to you doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“But he made it sound as if it never would have happened if I’d gotten training. My skips are insane! That’s not my fault—”

“Stop it!” I yell. Steph looks at me in surprise but I’m suddenly angry. “Stop saying that! I hate when you say that.”

“Say what?”

“That it’s not your fault. That’s your answer to everything, Steph. ‘It’s not my fault’.” I huff and sit back down on the couch. “You have to stop saying that. No one believes you anymore when you say it.”

“But it isn’t my fault!” she cries.

“Steph, I’m your oldest friend. I’ve known you forever and even I don’t believe you when you say that anymore.” I sigh and get comfortable on the couch. “Every time you say it, I wait for the full story then I pick out the parts where you were wrong, just like right now. Remember Paul Connolly?”

“What?”

“Paulie Connolly. In elementary school.”

Steph smiles. “Yeah, I remember him. Poopy Connolly.”

“Didn’t he get that nickname because you walked into the boys’ bathroom, thinking you were invisible, and Paulie ran out without pulling up his pants?”

Steph sits on the couch and laughs. “Oh god yeah! And he had a dingleberry hanging from his butt!”

We laugh.

“Exactly. And at the time, you shrugged and said that it wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, it’s not my fault he had a dingleberry hanging from his ass!” She’s still giggling.

I sober. “But you walked into the boys’ bathroom. You scared and embarrassed him so much he ran for it and got a reputation he couldn’t shake. He moved to Arizona and even when he comes home for visits, people still call him Poopy Connolly. You just called him Poopy Connolly.”

Steph stops smiling.

“That’s what I mean. You didn’t see that you owed him an apology for scaring and embarrassing him because, according to you, it wasn’t your fault. He should’ve wiped his butt and besides, you weren’t the person who came up with the nickname Poopy. But part of it was your fault, Steph. That’s why no one believes you when you say ‘It’s not my fault’. They just wait to hear the whole story to pick out the parts where it is your fault.”

Steph sits on the couch and plays with her fingers. I watch her, concerned.

“What are you mad about? That they manipulated you?”

“And that they said it wasn’t worth talking to me because I don’t listen.”

“Is that true?”

Steph is silent.

“Well?”

“Not anymore.”

“But it was true at the time.”

Steph is quiet for a long time. I raid the fridge and pull some bottled water and two apples. I eat my apple while waiting for her to say something.

“It’s not true anymore but I’m tired of being blamed for everything.”

I sigh and sink down to the floor to sit next to Steph. “If I followed that story right, it sounded as if they were trying not to blame you. They accepted responsibility for their company’s problems, apologized to you for blaming you in the first place and let you know that, far from still being mad with you, they want you to stay with them. They value what you’ve done and want you to stay in the company. And, honestly, you love what you do. Am I right?”

It seems to take forever for her to whisper, “Yes.”

“Ok. Then what happened in there was another Poopy Connolly. You don’t want to talk about it because it was so long ago, but for Poopy, every time he hears that nickname, he’ll never forget it and he’ll never forget your part in it and that you never apologized. You’re the Bombshell Bounty Hunter and you’ll always have that nickname whether you like it or not. And Alan Watkins has never apologized.”

Steph cringes. She truly hates that nickname.

“The guys will never forget that, for four years, you had issue after issue and none of them convinced you to get training. They had a point. The evidence they had in front of them said that you wouldn’t have done it if they’d asked, so why bother? When they asked you, you didn’t have any answers for them, so why should they believe you?”

I rub her back as she places her head on my shoulder. “Sounds like you guys were having a really good conversation until you said ‘Fuck you’. You told your bosses to go fuck themselves, Steph, and no matter what you may think, that was simply wrong.”

“It just seems as if no one . . . “

“No one what, Steph?”

“No one cares. No one gives a damn that I’ve changed my entire life to make a life with Ranger,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “I do believe I said this months ago. You have to give to get. You will not get your way all the time in a relationship with anything, not even a mirror. God knows I know,” I mutter and Steph gives a choked laugh.

“Ranger will have to give to have a life with you. Have you two discussed this?” She shakes her head mutely. “OK, so you’re getting pissed with the wrong people. If you’re mad you’ve changed your life, the person you have to talk that out with is Ranger. If you want to change aspects of your job, talk to . . . who’s your boss?”

She sighs. “Tank.”

We’re quiet for a few minutes. “Have you? Changed your life?” I ask.

“Yes!”

“How?”

“Well, I moved into RangeMan.”

“Move out.”

She lifts her head. “What?”

“You still have your old apartment?” She nods. “So move out. What else did you change?”

“I got trained.”

“Did you need it?”

She cringes. “Yeah, but I don’t like that they made me.”

“Would you have done it otherwise?”

She’s quiet for a long time. “No.”

“Then you shouldn’t expect an apology. They forced you to do something you needed.” She glares at me but I shrug. “Sorry, but I’m a mother. Forcing people to do things they don’t want to do for their own good is in the job description.”

Steph barks a laugh. “I don’t have any freedom.”

I roll my eyes. “Define freedom, Steph.” The room is silent except for the sounds of our breathing. “Anything?”

“I want to be able to go where I want, when I want, without having trackers and a guard and enemies following me. I want to make decisions about what I’m going to do. I want to be able to have a dinner with my parents without having to worry about the gym the next morning. I want everyone to back the fuck off!” Her voice is escalating with every sentence. “My life isn’t mine, ML! My life is property of RangeMan, LLC, where everyone gets to tell me what the fuck to do and I never get a chance to make my own decisions! It’s all about what they want, what they need, what everyone else thinks and says!”

Steph is standing, screaming, hands in the air. I’ve decided that I’m going have to be cruel to be kind. Steph needs a wakeup and, honestly, I hurt for the way she’s treated Lula during this trip.

“So you want to sprinkle yourself with fairy dust and pretend to be invisible again,” I reply calmly.

She glares at me. “This isn’t funny, ML.”

There’s a knock at the door. I open the door. It’s Tank.

“Is she OK?” He looks really concerned, trying to look around me to see her.

I smile wanly. “I’m not sure.”

He looks at me then nods and pats my shoulder gently. “Make sure she’s OK. Does she need to get out of here for a while?”

“Can we get out without a guard?”

He grimaces. “How about a discreet guard?”

“Define discreet.”

“They’ll follow at a distance and not eavesdrop.”

I nod. “I’ll let you know.”

He tries to look again. “OK, let me know.”

“I will.”

He leaves and I count. Thirty-five words. All because he’s worried. I smile. And Steph thinks these men don’t care about her. I walk back in and Steph’s staring at the door.

“Thirty-five words.”

“Really?”

I drop back onto the floor with her. “Yeah. He’s worried about you. He even asked if you needed to get out of here for a while.” I turn to face her. “You want to be single and pretend that the past five years haven’t happened. Well they have, Steph. They have happened. You have enemies, right?” She nods. “You’ve been kidnapped, burned . . .” I look at her. “What else?”

“A bunch of stuff.”

“Right. Quit RangeMan. Tell Ranger where he can get off. Leave and go back home. If that’s what you want, I’ll ask the guys to drop you off at the airport right now.”

Steph stares at me in horror. “ML!”

“Your life, Steph, is what you make of it! You don’t like how it’s going right now? Change it! Quit acting as if you’re powerless to do what you want.”

It’s a standoff in here right now. Steph’s clearly hurt and angry. I’m calmly eating my apple again.

“Leave. Go home. That’s what you want, right? Fuck Lula, who is excited that you’ve come to see her and help plan the wedding. Fuck Ranger, who came here to see you and is in hiding just to spend time with you. Fuck everyone around you. Go home. Need me to help you pack?”

Steph sinks into the side chair, completely white.

“Sorry, I guess I’m not helping. I’m just another person telling you what to do. You make your mind up, Steph, then go do it.”

“Well, I’ll finally get the freedom to go where I want,” she mutters.

“So you’re going to give Ranger back the car?” She looks at me in horror. “Well, it has trackers, right? You don’t want to be tracked and followed so he gets the car you love back. Besides, you don’t want to keep anything that reminds you of him and every time you get in that car, you’ll remember how he just knew you were going to pass RangeMan standards so he ordered your car in advance. Hard to forget that. Right?” She looks stricken. “You’re going to move out and go back to your old life. Does your old life still fit? Joe’s not an option. Ranger won’t be, will he? Back into the dating pool you go. Need a vibrator?”

She goes deep red at those words.

“What are you going to tell Hector?”

She gasps. “Oh god! Hector . . .”

I nod. “So we’re leaving Hector behind too. Start hunting for a job in this economy. You’re cutting into Les Sebring’s business with the bonds shop so he isn’t going to hire you. What could you do in Trenton where your employment with RangeMan or reputation as a solo bounty hunter won’t precede you?”

“You’re not helping, ML,” Steph whispers, sinking to your knees.

“Why?” Her jaw works furiously but no words come out. “So let’s take this back to basics. Do you love Ranger?” She looks at me but she finally nods. “Do you want a life with Ranger?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why? Why do you want to live with Ranger and love him for the rest of his life?”

“Because . . . because he’s always been there for me. He’s always supported me, encouraged me, tried to help. He understands me and he doesn’t pressure me.” She stops, chewing her lip. “I love him. He loves me.”

I snort. “I don’t think you and Ranger should get together.”

She looks at me, stricken. “Why?”

“Because not a word of what you said had anything about what you do for him, Steph. It’s all about what he gives you.”

I stand and walk into the kitchen to dump my apple core. I return and Steph’s frozen and pale.

“Why am I with Lenny? Because I love him. Because he’s always been there for me, he protects and encourages me, he works hard to make a life for us and it makes me happy to stand by his side and face every day and every night with him. I married Lenny because I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I wanted to make him smile and make him feel like the biggest man in the world for the rest of my life because that’s how he makes me feel. That’s why I married Lenny and none of your explanation contained anything about how you want to make Ranger’s life better.”

She’s mutely staring at me. I’m thinking Tank or Lula picks great apples. I check the sticker. Fuji. I have to keep that in mind.

“So let’s say you decide that you and Ranger aren’t a good match. His life has too many restrictions for you. There are too many responsibilities. Too much going on. You’ll never be his first concern.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

She’s quiet. Again. I’m wondering how Tank talked Lula into this color scheme. The main color is black. It’s actually really nice but I can see how Lula’s going to have to work to lighten it.

“You go back to Trenton. What’s left?”

“I own the bonds shop now. I could be a bounty hunter.”

“I thought RangeMan owned a controlling stake in that.”

Steph groans. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Next option.”

She thinks. “Crap.” She looks up at me. “I can’t think of anything.”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m the Burg spy, the bonds office is owned by you and RangeMan together, and let’s be honest Steph, any company who looks at your resume isn’t going to be impressed by nine months at RangeMan, four years of bounty hunting, a few years at EE Martin, and your less than impressive graduation stats.”

“I turned RangeMan around! The company is making millions!”

“Are they likely to acknowledge that in any reference? It’s a security company. What’s the standard HR response to requests for references?”

“They give the dates of employment and the last title you had,” Steph mutters. “That’s a change Candy just made since we’re getting government contracts that require discretion.”

“Yeah. So no reference for you. And if asked why you left, I don’t think the fact that you left telling your bosses ‘Fuck you!’ looks good.” She cringes. “Yeah, I wouldn’t hire you if I heard that and I know you.”

I look at Steph carefully. “What do you want your life to be, Steph? Because right now, you’re blaming everyone else for what your life is.”

I think about what I want to say. It’s friendship kryptonite. Do I dare go there?

Yes, I shall.

“Right now, you are acting like Val.”

KABOOM!

Steph’s head spins around so fast she makes the Exorcist look like slow motion. She’s horrified and angry. I nod sadly.

“You’re yelling and screaming and angry but not doing anything to change the situation. Are you waiting for someone to give you permission to do what you want to do? You’re yelling about a situation you have total control over.”

I drop to my knees in front of her and grip her shoulders tightly.

“Do what you want to do. Everyone who loves you will still be there for you and anyone who backs away wasn’t a real friend.” I smile. “I’ll never back away from you, but if you want your life to change, make the changes and flip a finger to anyone who disagrees. You control your life. You don’t need to ask anyone’s permission to make changes.”

---

Steph’s POV

You’re yelling and screaming and angry but not doing anything to change the situation . . . You control your life. You don’t need to ask anyone’s permission to make changes.

I’ve never hated ML more than I do right now.

“Sounds to me like you forgot who you are. . . Once you figure out who you are to you, you’ll be able to determine how you want your relationships with everyone else to go.”

Tank’s mother was right. I don’t know who I am anymore. My life has changed so much I don’t recognize it.

Who is Stephanie Plum?

Do I know?

No. I don’t.

I need peace and quiet. I need time and space to figure out my life. I’m not ready to be in a relationship with anyone yet. I went right from Joe to Ranger without a breather. And I’ve seen so many sides of Ranger lately I’m not sure I know him.

I need time. I love Ranger. I really do. I don’t want to screw up my relationship with him. He’s always been there for me but ML’s right. What do I give him?

I stand and walk over to my purse. I pull out Ella’s list.

1. What do I want from the man I love? Support, encouragement, love, the ability to make my own decisions, acknowledgement, speech, openness, honesty.

Well, I get that from Ranger. Always have. Well, that honesty one is debatable, but I believe he’s always been honest. And he’s been working on the speech one.

I lower the paper and think.

Yeah, ever since I told him I needed words, he’s been giving me words, and I got lots of openness this past weekend. He finally told me about his childhood, some bits of his Army career, weird funny little stories that helped me understand who he is. Most of his stories about his childhood were hilarious. He and Les were sneaky, perfect practice for their future Army careers. And hearing about his gang and juvie time really helped me understand what shaped him.

I saw ‘Ric’ in downtime. It was like looking at an entirely different man in Louisiana. The temple didn’t exist, he and the guys were silly and just fun, and he was open. I wondered who he was but I see that Tank’s mother’s house is the guys’ ‘safe space’. They’re just themselves there and I see why Lula loves her future mother-in-law.

The woman’s home is healing. Even I felt it. She didn’t badger me with questions. She just fed me and let me relax.

I look at item two.

2. What am I willing to do for him? Exercise, carry consistently, I will accept a RangeMan partner if I continue as a bounty hunter. We can discuss my working for the company at the end of this year. Willing to listen before getting mad. Willing to listen to what Ranger has to say when my life is danger

I wince. ML is right. This list improves his state of mind, but not his life. I’m not giving him anything here. Everything in this number is about me. None of it is about how I improve his life.

I think and add I’ll stop starting discussions after 9 PM.

3. What compromises am I willing to make? We can discuss kids and marriage. If we have kids, a compromise he must make is that he will not accept any more missions longer than six months and no six month missions back to back.

Well, we discussed marriage. It’s on the table, but we aren’t in a hurry. We haven’t discussed kids but I get the feeling that discussion will go just like the marriage one did. I do need to know if he’s done with the disappearing and reappearing. It sounded, last week, like he isn’t. But, overall, I got what I wanted there. Ranger wants to date, try living together, and kinda test drive a cohabitation situation.

I shiver. Well, when we’ve spent time together this year, it went well. That might not be so bad. We were equal partners in what we did and we spent time together without fighting and without having monkey sex all the time. We did our own thing then came together to cook, dance, watch TV and get out of the house.

I look up from the paper, remembering. Actually, both times in Miami were the best times in our relationship. We were just easy with each other. No pressure. The time we spent in Miami was the best, honestly.

“Whatcha reading?”

I look over. I completely forgot ML was here. I want to strangle her. I’m acting like Val? Val’s being an irritating pain in the ass!

But ML’s my oldest friend and she’s never lied to me. If she says I’m acting like Val, I have to consider that.

“A list of five things Ella gave me to consider in a relationship.” I walk over and sit next to her on the floor. ML reads the list and hums thoughtfully.

“Excellent list. She really got at the heart of marriage here.”

“Really?” I look at ML and she smiles.

“Yeah. She got at the heart of any relationship there. Sub me for Ranger. Those questions still hold up.”

I reread them and, with a little tweaking, she’s right.

Ella is a goddess among women.

I read number four.

4. What do I need to be happy? Support, love, the ability to make my own decisions, acknowledgement of my successes and no judgment when I fail, sex, sugar, meatball subs, pizza, and the occasional family dinner and time with friends. Also, time away from RangeMan and all RangeMen.

Hmm . . . no wonder I’ve been spazzing lately. I really haven’t been getting what I need on this list.

And no one knows that I need what’s on this list. Everyone guesses at it, but no one really knows. I can’t get what I need because I haven’t given anyone a clue.

I do believe I said this months ago. You have to give to get. Yeah. Thanks, ML.

5. What’s non-negotiable in our relationship? Love. Sex. Support. Honesty. Friendship. Encouragement. Trust. Sugar.

I smile at this list. Yeah. This is my relationship with Ranger.

I refold the paper and sit back. I want this relationship with Ranger. I’ve wanted it for a long time but I’m not ready. We finally committed to each other but I’m not committed. He is. He’s trying to give me what I need every time I tell him something new. I don’t know what he needs.

“I need help.”

ML looks at me. “What kind of help?”

“Professional help.”

Somewhere in the Burg, someone just choked on a meatball. A shrink? No one in the Burg goes to a shrink unless they’re committed to a mental hospital, usually to avoid more serious charges.

She puts her head on my shoulder. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “My first response, in any situation when I’m unhappy, is to run. I did it to Joe all the time. That’s why we could never live together. I’m doing it to Ranger now. And worse, with enemies everywhere, I keep doing it and putting people at risk. I have to stop and I know I won’t without help.”

I ran from the Burg to college. I ran from my mother to Dickie. I ran from Dickie to Newark. I ran between Joe and Ranger.

You’d think I was a track star with all the running I did, yet none of that running ever helped me catch a single skip.

ML nods. “Then I think you should get some help.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

“No prob.”

“I hate you less.”

She laughs. “Good to know.” We look at each other and grin. I shake my head, she laughs, and we hug tight.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“No prob.”

I break from her. “Text Lula and Connie. Maria and Candy too. Let’s hit Houston and let’s see if I can make up for being the world’s crappiest maid of honor.”

ML laughs. “OK. I’ll let everyone know we’ll go after Lula gets out of class.” My phone beeps. Tank. I read the message and sigh.

“Great.” I stand and take a deep breath. “Now, to go choke down some humble pie.”