Chapter 54: We Talk? Part I
Ranger’s POV
Romance her. Hector is an insistent ass. I’m watching Steph now and I wish I could just walk over and kiss her. She looks so cute in her polka-dot bikini. She needs to reapply the sunblock or she’s gonna burn soon.
I watch her rub the back of her neck and look around. I grin. Two minutes and she knows I’m here, but she doesn’t look for me. She turns around and heads back to her house. As she heads back, I see her looking around warily. OK, maybe she is looking for me. I watch, cautiously, prepared to duck behind a tree if necessary. Instead, my phone rings.
“You are the world’s worst stalker.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re not my type. She knows you’re there.”
Sigh. “She just had a breakdown. I don’t want to chance it.”
“She had a breakdown because we were smothering her and you’re an ass. Quit making her feel like your woman one minute and your plaything the next.”
“Close to the line, Hector.” Hector is one of the few men in my life that I allow to speak as they wish but there are limits. I will break his ass for comments like that.
“The line keeps moving. I thought you said you weren’t going to pop up anymore.”
“I miss her and I was worried.” I know you said she’s OK but still. She’s my woman. I need to know she’s OK.
“Then show her! Treat her like the woman you love. Romance her, for Christ’s sake, Ranger! Quit thinking the battle is over just because she decided to stop engaging the enemy.”
I’m quiet. I let Hector get away with more than most because there’s no stopping him. He’ll say whatever the hell he wants and take the time on the mats, just like Les. I’ve learned to just listen to both of them. Fuckers are usually right.
I can’t wait to watch them fall in love. I snort. Bobby, too. Tank and I have gotten drunk a few times, not talking about the women in our lives. Amazing that the single men think they can solve this problem so easily.
“You keep forgetting I’m not supposed to be in the country, bro.”
Silence, then Hector’s voice comes over icy cold. “Then prepare to lose her. She’s made changes for you. What are you doing for her, to show her that you appreciate her efforts? She’s eating your healthy crap and running your company, cleaning up problems that you and your partners didn’t even realize existed. She’s putting forth the effort to stand by your side.” Hector is silent, then, “I always thought you were creative, Ranger. You mean you can’t come up with ways to woo your woman from undercover? After all, if you get sent overseas, she’ll have no contact with you. That I could understand. You’re here. Woo her.”
“We had an agreement. No discussing our relationship until this op is over. My death is still a high possibility. Besides, it’s easy to say she’s made the changes, but does she really understand what it will mean to be with me? To wake up and I’m gone? To live with trackers and guns all the time?” I snort. “I can’t wait to tell her that I’m chipped and that’s how your little tracking program keeps up with me. You think she’ll be OK being chipped? She ditches trackers now. The stuff she’s doing now, that’s for her, to keep her alive. That’s not for me.”
Hector is silent. “Wrong,” he says coldly. “When she had that breakdown, she could have decided the shit she’s doing now wasn’t worth it. She could have come back from your home and decided she’d had enough. After all, The Cop would be thrilled if she showed up at his mother’s asking for a trip to Italy.” I cringe. “But she stayed. She’s still trying for you. Because she loves you. So again, what are you doing for her?”
I’m silent. You still don’t get it, Hector. That’s why I wanted Ella to help Steph, not you. Sometimes, hermano, I really wish you had served with us. Then you’d understand.
“Have you at least told her you love her?”
“Yes.”
“In English, Ranger?”
“I told her I did when she asked me.”
Silence. I snort mentally. Yeah, didn’t know that did you? She knows. I’ve said it in English, Spanish, Arabic, French, and Farsi. She might not understand in the last three languages, but te amo isn’t that damn difficult a phrase. Hell, it’s the same phrase in Italian and Spanish. Ti amo. Te amo. Je t’aime isn’t that difficult either but I’ll let it slide.
“Have you thought about anything else you can do to show you appreciate her?”
You mean besides handing over my company, putting my entire life and wealth at her disposal, putting my men at her disposal, and letting her have damn near all of me? Does she love herself, Hector? Does she finally give a damn about her life? I’m tired of being the only one of the two of us who does.
“Fine. Then I’m looking out for her, just as you’d want me to. I’m going to start introducing her to some new men, some men worthy of her.”
Hec’s just earned two hours on the mats for that. The Cop’s enough. I’m not fighting against new fuckers.
“Who’s supposed to be here this week?”
“No one. She’s there alone.”
“How’d she talk you into it?”
“She keeps the trackers at all times.”
I snort mentally. “You accepted that?”
“I trust my partner so I have to. You want me to disable the cameras?”
I consider it. “Where are you?”
“I was about to leave your house. I need to drop her off?”
“Yeah. Ask her if she wants to join me at my house. If someone’s watching her rental, I don’t want to be spotted. MS-13 has intel that I might be stateside.”
“Shit!”
“Exactly.” And you say I don’t care. I’m being hunted but I still popped up to check on her. Shit, if I were gonna be caught, now would be the time. My fucking heart will be my demise. “When do I need to leave?”
“Thursday afternoon. Les is coming in early to set up for the strategists.”
“Done.” Click.
My phone rings five minutes later.
“Yo.”
“Angelita? He’s there.”
“Thanks, Hector.” The phone clicks. “Are you OK?” She sounds worried. I test that feeling. I like it. She’s concerned about me.
“I’m fine, Babe. Love the bikini.”
I hear a quiet laugh. “Thanks. Were you on the boardwalk?”
“I’m nearby.”
“How long are you staying this time?”
“Until Thursday, if you want some company”
“Chasing a lead?” She sounds amused. No Babe. I came here for you.
“Nope. Thought I’d take in some sun.” It’s quiet. “We need to talk.”
“About what? Company matters?”
“No.” My phone beeps. Trenton’s been updated that the CO is ‘perfectly protected’. Hal understood. The men won’t ask questions. Good; she’s coming.
“Then what are we talking about?”
“Us.”
“There is no us.”
“It’s been ‘me’ and ‘you’, so it’s time to talk about it.”
“Why now?”
“Past time. Hector told me he’d start introducing you to men who’d appreciate you. I’m not afraid of him but he’s a sneaky little shit.”
“So you’re here to piss a circle around me?”
Wow. She sounds annoyed. I look at my phone coolly for a moment. Clearly, I suck at humor. Time to take lessons from Les. “No. I’m here to remind my woman that she is mine.”
“Am I?”
“You change your mind?”
“What are the conditions?”
“We better talk about that.”
Silence, then, “My partner loves me and I love him.”
I know Hec’s gay, but damn if I don’t feel as if she just socked me in my balls with that sentence. Maybe those two as partners was a bad idea. Both have problems with the concept of self-preservation. “Good. Do I have company this week or not?”
Sigh. “Yeah.” Click.
I stare at my phone. Who was that? Whoever she was, she has RangeMan phone manners. I travel halfway out of town, conduct a few evasion maneuvers and a cleaning sweep before heading back to my house. I pull into the garage and Steph is standing there, arms crossed, waiting on me. I climb out the car and walk over to her.
“I’ve missed you.”
She looks me up and down and smiles wanly. “I missed you, too.”
“Looking good, Babe. Getting brown.” I’d hug her, but her arms are crossed and she’s just looking at me. Hmm …Hector truly is a sneaky little shit. Is she working on a blank face too? I can still read her, but the thought is interesting. A Steph I can’t read? Actually, the thought is terrifying.
“Thanks. You look pale.”
I shrug. “I work at night.” I take her hand and unlock the door, allowing her to precede me inside.
“Is this like Miami? No shopping? Nothing out in public?”
“Yes. Sorry, but I got the feeling I was being followed last week. Had to shake them off before I came here.” I head back to the garage and grab her bags and mine. I take them upstairs to the master bedroom. Steph’s already there, unpacking her laptop.
“Are you still being followed?” I shrug. Steph looks over, irritated. “Words, Ranger. I need words.”
My jaw clenches as I look at her. Wow . . . but honestly, that made me a bit hot. “I don’t think so, but anyone with two brain cells to rub together would also have you under watch.” She pales and I nod. “I told you that you were my best known weakness, Babe. If they want to find me, they’ll follow you. If I’m stateside, I’ll pop up to see you at some point. After all, this is the third time in five months.”
Before Babe can say anything else, I kiss her, a sweet passionate kiss. When I come up for air, she has my shirt open and she’s rubbing her hands all over my chest and back. No bullet wounds, Babe. I’m fine. I rest my forehead against hers.
“I really do miss you, Babe.”
I feel her smile. “I miss you too, Batman.”
I chuckle. Now, to romance my woman while undercover.
Steph’s POV
Again, he pops up out of no-fucking-where! This is insane. I’m not done with Ella’s list and I realize that I don’t want to talk about anything on her list until the end of the year. I want time to determine what I want in this insane relationship. Ella and Grandma are right. I have apologies to make to Ranger, but I need to figure out what I need first.
I had the house packed up and locked in minutes. I called ML and told her where I hid the keys and she’s thrilled and grateful. She and Lenny were looking for a place at the beach for a week and my moving to Ranger’s made my rental available for her. She wanted to know where I was staying and I told her I was moving to a secure location for a week. She didn’t ask any questions beyond that.
I head back downstairs and Ranger follows me. “Is there food here?”
“Hector restocked for me.”
“You expected me to stay?” For some reason, that ticks me off.
“I hoped you’d stay. I prepared for the possibility you would agree.”
OK, now my anger feels a little silly. RangeMan SOPs: Prepare for all possibilities. I start a salad and add some of the leftover shrimp I brought with me to it. Meal in minutes but it’s a salad; I don’t really count this as a meal. Hector’s right; this really doesn’t take a lot of effort, but I don’t count this as cooking.
“It’s food.” I look up. Ranger looks as if he’s considering a smile. “Cooking doesn’t always require a stove.”
Another reason not to have this talk now: my blank face isn’t ready yet.
We eat on the deck, enjoying the sunset before Ranger speaks. “I heard you had a tough time two weeks ago.”
I look over. “What did Hector tell you?” My partner is going to be without his balls soon. I’m sure Ranger popped up because of Hector. He didn’t want to leave me alone at the beach and, two hours later, Ranger appears. I was thrilled Ranger was here and pissed (and grateful) that Hector arranged it. I should have known that there was no way he would leave me alone. Ranger collects the empty plates and takes them to the kitchen. He returns and pulls me into his arms.
“That you needed something he wasn’t providing and he didn’t know what it was. I needed to get here and figure it out,” he says softly.
Again, that sounds like Hector. I knew it. I just knew it. Hector arranged this.
“Did Hector tell you to come this week?”
He looks blank. “No. Was he supposed to?”
OK, is that the truth or a lie? I think about it and decide it’s the truth. Ranger’s never lied to me and Hector’s never lied to me. It might just be a massive coincidence, so I shake my head. I don’t say anything for a while. I listen to the birds and the ocean. The fact that Ranger thinks he might have been followed makes me nervous, so I stand and walk back into the house. Ranger follows, clearly confused, but I head up the stairs and into the master bedroom. I kick my shoes off and lie on the bed, using the remote to turn the fan on. Ranger joins me on the bed.
I look at Ranger. “And you guessed what?”
I feel Ranger exhale. “In the military, the hardest deployment for the military spouse is the first one,” he says softly. “You don’t know what’s going on, you’re worried, you’re upset, you’re constantly thinking about your loved one in harm’s way. If you’re a good commander, you watch for that in your men. You watch for the ones with their minds back home more than on the mission. When Hector called, I knew it was coming. I told him that Ella was prepared for it. I wasn’t surprised.”
“You aren’t deployed.”
“Same thing, Babe. I’m gone, for at least a year, with no communication except during the rare moment I pop up. It leaves you feeling off-balance, right?”
I nod.
“Before, it wasn’t a big deal. You were independent of RangeMan and you could come and go as you pleased. I’m sure you thought about me, but then, Morelli was around. You did your normal on-off thing with him. This time, you aren’t calling the shots on your schedule, my men are protective, and neither of us is here.”
“That makes me sound. . . ” I choose not to finish that sentence.
Ranger pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “Sorry, Babe, but it’s the truth, right?” I nod, reluctantly. “You cared about me but you wouldn’t allow yourself more than that. Now you have and the worry is greater.”
Ranger leaves and returns with a piece of paper. ‘Military Wives’ 21 Best Tips for Dealing with a Spouse’s Deployment‘. I read the list. It’s everything Tank and Bobby told me to do before they left and everything the RangeMen have been trying to do since Ranger left. I thought the guys were just being overprotective but no, they were trying to help me do the things that military spouses are supposed to do to keep busy and not consider the danger their loved one is in.
I’ll bet they had no clue.
“I doubt it, but they recognized it subconsciously. Only problem: you’re a woman. If you were a man, they would’ve known exactly what to do. They were probably a little more uncertain about what was appropriate for you and if they were even calling it right.”
I smile. My sweet, lethal, incredibly overprotective big brothers. I’m getting Hal something special. He did the best job with his days out. “You’re right. Hal always seemed to know when I’d reached a tipping point. He would get me out the building and away from the men for a day.”
Ranger closes his eyes and strokes my hair away from my face. “Hal has a good instinct for people. He’s detail oriented, yes, but I kept him after the Slayers incident because a) he’d never fall for that trick again and b) the men respected him, even while teasing him.”
I smile. Hal is known for his people management skills in the company. Tank is flattered, since it’s known in Trenton that Hal ‘channels’ Tank when he’s uncertain about what to do.
I put the paper down and look at Ranger. “So now what?”
He faces me and we look at each other for a while. “I know I said we’d talk about this when the op is over. Do you still want to wait or do you want to talk now? I’m ready whenever you are, Babe.”
THANK GOD! An out. “Later. I want to see if I can get through this year.”
Ranger nods and stands up. I can hear him shutting down the downstairs. I take a shower and prep for bed and Ranger joins me soon after.
“Babe?”
I roll over and look at him.
“I meant what I said. You’re mine. That much you can be certain of. Everything else we’ll figure out.”
Ranger’s POV
Something about this conversation isn’t right. Five and a half months ago, she was ready, desperate to have this talk. I’ve just offered it on a silver platter and she decided not to take it. Why not? I consider possibilities. Denial Land is always a good one, but what’s she denying? Hell, I’ve stated, in no uncertain terms, that she’s mine, I consider her mine. She hasn’t denied the claim and she’s not looking nervous.
Has her time as CO given her a different perspective? I consider this one. Possible. My life is a pain in the ass and now she sees how Bruce Wayne lives. Bruce is a psychotic fucker because heading Wayne Enterprises is a headache. Being Batman is a relief. The choices are clear. People think Batman’s the insane one but no, his life and objectives are clear. Avenge his parents. Protect the city. Ensure peace whenever he can.
Ranger? Ranger’s life is great. Simple. Orders are clear, money is paid, job is done. ‘Tis but a flesh wound’ is Ranger’s motto. Carlos? Carlos hates the office. He hates paperwork. He hates meetings. Carlos doesn’t want to be chained to a desk until at least 45 or after the loss of three limbs, whichever comes first. Which is a pain because it’s Ranger’s name on the buildings. It’s his name on the business.
Carlos has a hard and dangerous life that’s confusing because he can’t determine if he’s more Ranger or Carlos. That makes it hard to determine if he wants Stephanie to be permanent. No, he wants Stephanie. He just doesn’t want to win her then lose her because she didn’t understand what she was getting. Better to have loved and lost? Bullshit. Loving and losing hurts.
That’s my greatest fear: That I’ll let my Babe into my world and she’ll run screaming. It happens. The divorce rate among Rangers is insane, somewhere around 70%. I’ve seen it, watched happily married men come back from a yearlong mission and I run into them two weeks later and they’re living in hotels because their wives have had enough. They kicked them out. They wanted husbands who were there, who could talk about their lives, their work, could communicate when they were out in the field. “Don’t tell me you can’t send emails! X’s husband can send emails!” Yeah, that’s because X’s husband is riding a fucking desk at the end of the day, sleeping in a cot, close to headquarters.
Rangers are out in the field, living out of rucks, eating MREs and fighting blisters. We’re trying not to breathe too hard when the enemy is directly overhead. We’re sleeping in mud. We come home and jump at the slightest noise. Even the retired ones know the deal. I’ve seen men retire out of the service and re-up two years later. Why? Because they can’t integrate back into their families. Their wives learned to lead lives without them and once they’re home, they aren’t needed. Their kids don’t need them. Their wives don’t need them. Everyone learned how to get along without them. So, hell, they go back overseas. They continue the life.
That’s part of the reason the guys and I got out. We wanted to have options. We didn’t want the service to be our only option.
I slide out of bed. I can see Steph roll over in bed and look at me. “Library.”
“OK.”
I slip down to my library and pour myself a brandy. I put the Mozart on and kick back in my favorite chair. This is clearly going to be one of those ‘deep thinking’ nights.
She thinks she knows what it will be like, but she doesn’t. Hector thinks she knows what she’s getting, but he’s wrong. No Army wife does. That “You knew what you were signing up for when you married him” stuff is bullshit. No Army wife understands what she’s walking into; that’s why they’re so tight. Army wives stick together because they know that no one understands what they’re living through. That’s why I want to break Hector right now. He doesn’t know what it’s like. This mission, this year, is a cheat. She’s not really getting a taste of what life with me will be like because I keep popping up. Let me go on a mission for a year with no contact. That’s the true test.
Steph believes she can handle it. I reiterated all the reasons she shouldn’t bet on me, all the reasons I wasn’t the right man, and she said it was already the life she was living. I knew it wasn’t true, but . . . shit, I guess I was willing to believe it right then. I was willing to chance it. I knew this would happen. I knew she’d break. Every wife and girlfriend does but I knew Steph’s break would be harder because she wouldn’t reach out to anyone. She wouldn’t lean on her friends. She wouldn’t lean on the family she can count on, her father and grandmother.
I knew she’d try to hide it and that’s why I know Hector doesn’t understand this. That’s why I prepped Ella before I left. I told Ella to get her to the beach house and away from the men. Put her back together again and let her calm down before returning her home. Hector and the men would have tried to head it off, but that’s the wrong method of handling it. It’s like releasing the pressure valve on a pipe. It has to be done carefully and considering all the consequences.
Steph? No one understands me there. I have a woman who I accepted had another man besides me. I’m the one giving her everything she needs and she was fucking him. Not me. Him. And she wasn’t making any attempts to give him up. I may have encouraged her to repair her relationship with Morelli, but she didn’t have to do it. She could have fought me on it. She fights me on everything else but she didn’t on that. I was prepared to make changes for her then, but it was a test. I needed to see if she was strong enough to fight for whatever relationship we might have.
She failed and I’m glad she did. She wasn’t ready. I didn’t make her climb back into bed with him. She gave up and went back to him and I accepted her decision. She might say she doesn’t want casual sex, but that’s all she had with Morelli. So she was willing to give him what she wouldn’t give me, but I’m the one being honest with her. He’s the one hiding her ex-husband in his fucking house and lying to her. I don’t lie to her. She might not like the shit I say but I don’t lie.
Poaching? My silent way of sticking it to Morelli.
I refill the brandy. Even thinking about it pisses me off. I was ready then. I really was but I needed her to fight for me as hard as I was ready to fight for her. I ‘blackmailed’ her into sleeping with me so she wouldn’t have the guilt. I made it a magical night, pulled out every trick I knew, and made love to her so sweetly I realized I’d given my heart to her long ago without knowing it. Instead she looked at me, clenched her jaw, and walked to her shower. I knew she was pissed at my comment, but would she fight? Would she attempt to change my mind?
Nope. She climbed back into his bed two nights later. I left and went to Miami, bitter. I accepted the first assignment that came my way because I knew it would be months before I was ready to see Morelli without wanting to strangle him. Even now, she’s only here because he dumped her. She’s here because Morelli told her that he was unwilling to put up with this craziness anymore. That they could get back together when she was ready to propose to him.
So I’m her fucking rebound and she thinks that’s enough? Hector thinks that’s enough? NO! Shit, I want the same thing Morelli wants. I want her to choose me. I want her to have the strength to really end it with him and walk away. From the moment I met her, he’s been there, a silent presence. No, that’s wrong. I’ve been the silent presence, watching the two of them make up and break up and wondering if she’d ever walk away from him.
Steph’s finally showing me that she’s ready to stand by my side, and I’m thrilled but terrified at the same time. Thrilled because I’ve been waiting for so long, wondering if I’d ever get to slide my ring on her finger. Terrified because I fully expected this breakdown and it happened, as I expected. This isn’t the last time this will happen, I’m sure, but will the second time be the one that breaks her? The third? Will she make the entire year? Or will I come home and have to congratulate Morelli? Again?
Babe has never shown that she’s good for the long haul in anything that she’s done, except bounty hunting, and she does that in a way that scares the hell out of me. She did that in a way that had convinced me that she didn’t care if she lived or died. I recognize that it was easier for me to keep her on the fringes of my life because I’d go insane if something happened to her or if she left me after I let my guard down and let her in fully. But that didn’t help her. It only confused her. It didn’t give her the reassurance she needed to take a chance on me. I didn’t make it comfortable for her to love me, just confusing.
I recognize I’ll have to make changes and I know I’m going to have to make some apologies. I’ve always assumed that any relationship with Steph would require those two things to happen, and I don’t need Hector banging me over the head with that every time we talk. I know I can’t get everything my way in a relationship. But I need to know that she loves herself. I need her to take herself seriously. I’ve told her I love her. I’ve told her in English and Spanish. I’ve told her in words and in deeds from the moment I met her.
I can’t remember the last time she told me she loves me. Has she ever told me she loves me? Even at the heights of passion she’s never said it.
No man remains this devoted to any woman for this long without being in love. It’s not the sex; I’m not getting that. My words? I recognize that they were shitty. I know I have a lot of ground to cover there. I have a lot to make up for. Some of the shit I’ve said makes me cringe. I set myself up to have this insane situation then got frustrated with Babe for not giving me a chance when I’d encouraged her to believe my words. I have a lot to apologize for and I know it.
But she scares me because, as a commander, I recognized that Steph not only did not love herself but she depended on outside validation to sustain her. Me, her mother, her grandmother, the ‘Burg, everywhere she looked everyone was feeding her their opinions and she hadn’t learned how to let that roll off her back and depend on her own sense of self-worth. She has a low sense of self-worth, no sense of her own value, and you can’t be equals in a marriage or relationship when one person constantly looks to the other for validation and support of their self.
I switch to Chopin. I need something soothing. I sit back and let the music wash over me while thinking about the insanity of my love life.
I love her with everything I have, but I need her to love herself. I didn’t want to encourage her to rely on me, but she does. I didn’t want her to get the training she’s getting now for me. That would be the wrong reason. I wanted her to get it for her, because she was tired of being injured, because she was tired of being hurt. I’m not forcing her to do anything she doesn’t want to do; that would make me no better than Morelli.
I made her run; she whined the entire way. I put bullets in her gun; she left it at home. I put her in a safe house so I could assess the situation on the ground; she stunned Hal, got kidnapped, was beaten and nearly raped. All for what? A fucking wedding shower. A wedding shower was more important than her own life! So I stopped. This Henry Higgins realized that Eliza wasn’t ready to work in the flower shop. This is the problem that I have with Steph. She doesn’t love herself, but she wants me to love her. I do love her, but she has to love herself first.
I believe in Steph and I love her, but my love and belief can’t be what sustains her. I can’t give her a sense of self-worth. That’s why it’s called self-worth. I can only supplement her, encourage her and celebrate her successes, which I’ve done since I met her, but it still wasn’t enough. That’s something she has to find on her own. That’s something she has to develop on her own. It’s not a car or a gun. It’s not a physical need I can meet with money. It’s an emotional need that I can’t meet. Self-worth is self-love and most people are afraid to love themselves. I love myself. I need Steph to love herself.
I want a partner, an equal, and Steph wasn’t that person but I can see that’s changing already. This Steph pulled no punches earlier. This Steph is getting stronger and she’s growing and I’m already in love, all over again, with what I see. I see my partner. I see the woman I always knew was there coming out.
That’s all I wanted her to change. I wanted her to learn to love herself, to know that she has value regardless of what everyone else thinks, and it looks like that’s happening.
This is why I didn’t want to have this discussion until this op is over. Because, even though this op is a cheat, this is the closest she’ll get to test driving my life. She’s running my company, in the care of my men, with trackers and a loaded gun. She hasn’t run from any arguments lately (damn near started one earlier) and Hector says she’s taking the training seriously. She’s getting a chance to see what my life is really like and Hector says it’s been eye-opening for her.
I hoped it would be. She’s experiencing the loneliness and frustration that Ranger wives feel, and she sees what it’s really going to be like to be in a relationship with me. Gone all the time. No communication. Terse messages when I do communicate. Hell, some wives only know their husbands are still alive when they get the return receipt from the email! I needed her to see what I juggle on the civilian end and it’s been enough (lately) to give me some hope that maybe this will work. I need to know she takes her life seriously.
I love every wonderful, insane, maddening thing about her. I was still hanging on, waiting for her to decide she’s ready and now, finally, she thinks she’s ready. OK. She finally told me, out loud, that I have her heart, so I’ll honor and protect her gift. I’ll give it a go, but I’m grateful Les tricked her into this part. This was something else that had to change but, again, I wasn’t interested in forcing her to change. I didn’t want to bully her into giving a damn about her life. I didn’t want to force her to exercise or eat healthier or carry the damn gun and, thanks to Les, I don’t have to. She’s being forced to do it. I’m the motivation but not the reason. Good. You can’t force someone to love themselves and that’s what I needed in order to feel comfortable opening up to her. I needed to know I wouldn’t come home to a headstone or her beautiful blue eyes closed because of a coma.
Show me that first. Prove that you finally care enough to take yourself seriously. It’s the first hint I’ve had that she is starting to love herself. If she’d decided to leave, to tell Angie Morelli that she was ready for a trip to Italy, I would have treated that as final. Decision made. No returns. I would have booted her from my life then because it would have proven that, in the end, she didn’t love herself enough to keep herself alive. She took the easy way out and my life’s not easy. I can’t love you more than you love yourself and that’s what I’ve been doing for years, loving her more than she loved herself.
The guys think she’s the only one being affected by this psyop, but she’s not. I am too. I will never tell them, but they’re forcing me to love me more than her. I have to take care of me first. I have to stop allowing her to bleed me dry. Not just financially, but emotionally. Watching her throw her life away is an emotional rollercoaster for me.
I’m allowing her to take the lead. I’ve already given her my promise, that if she wants to talk about this, I’m ready whenever she is. I was going to wait, going to make her last the entire year, but I realize that Hector is right. I need to give her the reassurance that I appreciate the changes she’s making and I’m open to a relationship with her. She thinks she’s ready so I’m finally taking a stand and saying, ‘If you intend to pick me, welcome to my life. This is who I am and this is what you get. Show me you’re ready for it and I’ll show you I’m ready to bring you in fully. When you’re ready, we can discuss how our relationship will work, how each of us will make the changes necessary to make it forever. If you can’t handle it, then it’s over. We’ll just be friends and no more.”
I’m ready but if it’s too much for her, I’ll end it.
I’ll stop poaching. I’ll stop giving her any hope. I’ll keep our relationship professional because doing anything else would be unfair. If she couldn’t make it through this year, then I know that we’d never make it unless I gave up missions all together and I have no plans to do that any time soon.
I don’t do these missions for fun. I do it (a) because it pays and pays well; (b) I have the skill set necessary to complete the objectives successfully; and (c) I believe in the missions I accept. I understand that there are things that only I can do, missions that are perfect for me that will protect my country and promote its interests. Why do I do it as a mercenary instead of active duty? Because Army pay is shit and I prefer to issue my own orders. Tell me what the objective is and let me accomplish it. That’s why the government pays me the big bucks. Because I don’t fail. I don’t need some desk-riding general trying to take credit for my success. I don’t need a high-level DEA/ATF/FBI/CIA alphabet flunky trying to turn my success into his next promotion. Fuck you. Pay me my money and stay the hell out of my way.
Why did I accept this assignment? Because the job of a federal agent working with a gangs task force is to clear the streets of gang bangers. It’s not to sell out the state agents. Why did I turn down the assignment to capture the MS-13 leadership? Because my job is to reestablish equilibrium, not to do the gangs task force’s job. Second reason? I’m still considered a Latin King. I’m not interested in starting an all-out gang war.
I snort. ALKN vs. MS-13? I love my former brothers, but MS-13 would wipe the ground with ALKN unless they could rally their allies and a gang-war is bad for business.
I come home from missions and go straight to Miami. I have to switch back to ‘civilian mode’ before I see anyone, and Tank knows not to call me until I’ve had at least two weeks to get my head back on straight. Steph? Insanity follows her, and I love her but I can’t take it. I can’t come home from six months in Pakistan or Bolivia to her car explosions and injuries. I love her but I’m still in combat mode. I’m still liable to shoot everything moving. I’d kill Edna if I didn’t have my head back on straight. Does Hector understand that? Does he understand that I’m liable to shoot the love of my life if she makes a sudden noise?
Does she understand that I don’t want to talk? I can’t talk about what happened over there. I’d rather get caught up on her gossip because it’s soothing. Listening to her talk about Trenton and the ‘Burg gossip gives me a chance to relax and unwind. I have all her gossip mentally categorized and memorized because it helps me not think about death and destruction. I sniff her perfume to remind me that I love this scent on that woman. I have a picture of her and Julie (that she didn’t find) in my house to remind me that they are my legacy in the world. The woman and the child that don’t have my name and who I can’t openly claim.
I pull a cotton blanket out and refill the brandy. I move to the sunroom and get comfortable on the couch. I stare out into the starry sky and shake my head. Why did I buy a home at Point Pleasant? Three guesses and you shouldn’t need more than one. This is her favorite spot, not mine. I was planning to buy a house in Strathmere until I heard her talk about her family vacations to Point Pleasant. I came, looked around, and it was way too loud for me, but I bought a house in Bay Head. It’s quieter, right next to Point Pleasant, and the perfect compromise in my opinion. Even my Jersey beach house is a compromise to make her happy. I’m already compromising to have her in my life and she doesn’t notice, but each time she’s needed this place, it’s been there, ready and waiting on her. It’s just another thing that I’ve done, another attempt to make her happy and provide for her, whether she knows it or not.
Stephanie and Julie. That’s what I will leave behind. I’m trying. I guess no one sees that, but I’m already trying to make changes. My daughter doesn’t have my name and I sneak around to see her, but that’s an improvement from only seeing her upon invitation. The fact that my relationship with her is improving is a joy I’m grateful for every day. My daughter sees me as more than a check, more than the mysterious voice on the phone. Rachel? I’m grateful Ron convinced her to give me another chance and even more grateful that Rachel didn’t slam the door shut in my face after Julie was kidnapped by Scrog. No, Rachel actively promoted my relationship with Julie. I fully expected to be cut off from my daughter and instead I’m developing a better, deeper relationship with her. I want the same with Steph. I want this relationship with Steph so badly it hurts.
But I’m scared. I’m scared that she’ll run. I had time, after Miami, to think about this. I’ve had time, on and off, to think about what’s going on with Steph, how I’ve helped her and hurt her, and how this year might change her. I’ve had time to think about how this year will change me. I was afraid of letting her in and coming home from a mission to find that she’s gone. Not just dead, but left me, decided it was too much and gave up. I don’t want to be a part of the 70% number I’ve seen. Those men have dead eyes because the women they swore to love all their lives gave up and left. I was determined never to join their ranks.
I’d tell her all of this, except how do you say that to the woman you love without her taking a week or month-long trip to Denial? How do you tell the woman you love that you’d be open to a relationship with her if she loved herself, if she took care of herself, if her safety and security meant as much to her as it does to you? “I love you but you don’t love yourself.” “I love you, but I need you to carry a gun, care about your health, and work with a partner.” “I love you and I wish you loved yourself as much as I do.” “I need you to do the following things before I will even consider a life with you.”
I snort and sip my brandy. That last one sounds like Morelli and I refuse to do that. I came close when I brought her back from Point Pleasant and had to reel myself in. Every single sentence is emotional manipulation and doing that to her would make me no better than him, Mrs. Plum, and most of the ‘Burg. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I stayed back. I’m not going to manipulate her.
I don’t see exercising and changing her diet as a necessity in our relationship. It’s nice, but what’s important to me is that she honors herself by protecting herself, by putting herself first. The gun’s nice but not crucial. Can she take a man down without getting hurt? Will she learn to trust her instincts and flee a bad situation? Will she stop thinking that her safety doesn’t matter? (OK, maybe the gun is more important than I thought). Shit, she went on a week-long trip to Denial when Morelli decided he’d had enough. I’m sure if I said half the shit I truly think, she might never speak to me again.
I can’t believe I’ve been thinking about this for. . . I check the time. Three hours. I try never to think about this stuff. I’m breaking Hector for this. Steph finally walks in. I’ve been watching her curly head peek in on me for the past 15 minutes. I flip the blanket back and wait.
“Talk to me.”
Quiet, then, “I don’t really have anything to say.” She walks over and settles next to me. My cock is happy to feel her. Soft, sweet, and those curls are in my face. Dolce Vita and Bvlgari. On anyone else they’d clash. On Steph it’s perfect. I wait. “You keep popping up. How does that happen?”
Sigh. “Miami was expected. I knew Julie would invite you for her graduation and I’d already planned to be there, so I planned to be ‘offline’ for a week. I wanted to see you if I could, steal you away from some time together. NYC was an accident. I really was just crashing when I ran into you there.”
“This time?”
Open. Be open. “I was worried.” Steph shifts and looks at me in the darkness. “This is my first time being on this side of the equation,” I tell her softly, “and I’m luckier than all the men I commanded. In a pinch, in a dire emergency, I can get to you. But this is hell. Tell me, would it be easier if I didn’t pop up anymore until this is over? Or can you handle seeing me on occasion?”
Steph sighs and cuddles closer to me. I kiss the brunette curls invading my face. “I don’t know.” Silence, then, “It’s hard when you pop up. You aren’t supposed to be here but I’m happy when you are.”
“But then I’m gone again.”
“Yeah.”
I was right. I know my Babe. This is exactly why I didn’t want to pop up on her anymore. I don’t want her to run from me. She’s already come close once. “Tell me what you need me to do, Babe. After all, this is an aspect of my life that you’ll be getting. Sometimes the mission will be overseas. No popping up. And don’t tell me you could handle it because it’ll be the first time all over again.”
Her eyes are big. “Again?”
I rub her back. “You’re getting a domestic with limited contact. A foreign with no contact is a different beast.”
Steph exhales and closes her eyes. She snuggles closer to me and buries her face in my chest.
“Pop up. I’ll take the time I can get.”
A/N: Before you start writing your comments, I HIGHLY recommend that you check out this story in USA Today: http://usat.ly/RqpsZV.
This story, and many others, formed the basis of Ranger’s POV. He is not trying to be an ass. He is not being difficult. He is a soldier, a highly trained, well-disciplined soldier. Read the story at the USA Today site, and the comments below it, then comment please.
Finally, because I do not want to interrupt the flow of this story, there is a piece I want EVERYONE to read that I will post called “This was a LONG time coming.” Please read.
