Jalapeño

A look into the RangeMan crew's life from a different perspective. 
Theme Songs: It's My Life by Bon Jovi and Now We Are Free from the Gladiator. Babe HEA, of course.

Title: Jalapeño
Category: Books » Janet Evanovich
Author: Two Guns and a Knife
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M
Genre: Drama/General
Published: 08-15-12, Updated: 09-14-12
Chapters: 5, Words: 2,725

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Chapter 1: Jalapeño

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Jalapeño

He stays put and doesn't give in. He can tell by her voice that she's getting impatient and frustrated. He knows she wants to leave. He wishes she can stay. He loves her, but he can't go with her. He feels bad when she crumbles to the carpeted floor by the king size bed and starts crying. He doesn't know what to do. He always hates to see her tears. He's never ever meant to hurt her, but he has to do the right thing. He really, really has no other choices. He has to stay where his heart and loyalty are. And she's not the one he loves the most in this world...
So he remains where he is while she wipes away her tears, and watches her go. Deep down in his heart he knows this is the last time. She won't be back. She can't stand and doesn't want this life. She has had enough. All the worries. All the secrets. All the fights. All the make-up sex. Because sometimes love is just not enough. He hears the sound of the front door being locked. He gets out from under the bed and rushes to the window. The cab driver puts the suitcases into the trunk. She gets in the car and closes the door. She turns to look at their home as the car drives away. He's not sure if she sees him or not. "Don't go!" He finally feels panic and cries out.
But it's too late. She's already gone. Her ruby wedding ring lies quietly on the bedside table. The house is eerily empty though he can still smell her sweet perfume. He sits by the window and starts to wait. He listens to the loud silence and soon falls asleep. The sky is already dark when he wakes up. He's hungry but has no appetite. He waits, and waits. He sees the familiar black car stop at the curb and runs immediately to the front door. He then meows out all his loneliness and sorrow when the door opens and the light goes on. He purrs like a little princess when Papi picks him up and holds him tight. Papi knows Mama has left them, he suddenly realizes.
They eat their late dinner in silence. He sits on the lid of the toilet when Papi takes a long cold shower. And that night he sleeps on Papi's muscular chest, trying all he can to keep Papi warm and heal Papi's soul. He can't help feeling sorry and sad. He loves his Mama with all his heart, but Papi is the one who killed the bad man and saved his life. And he couldn't let Papi come back home from his mission to an empty house. He just couldn't. He closes his eyes and wishes he can cry. The both of them fall asleep when dawn finally comes.
He's Jalapeño Santos, Lester's cat. He weighs 10.5 pounds and has no fear. And his great adventure is just about to begin.

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Chapter 2: Santos

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Santos

It was too late. There was nothing he could do for the mother cat and her other babies. So he picked up the tiny kitten—the sole survivor of the whole family—and ordered their bone-thin and numb-looking local interpreter to take them to a vet ASAP. He had no idea if they had vets for small animals here. But it had been a beautiful, modern and prosperous city not that long ago, he'd once been told. The pride and joy of this far away country. A beautiful oasis in the desert. Though it was nothing but a sad pile of bombed debris now, a living proof of the cruelty of war. There must be something left. Firmly he told himself and started to pray. He was never a good Catholic. He hadn't prayed or been in the church in years. And right now he was frantically praying to God, to the Buddha, and to Allah. For this fragile little cat. For all the exhausted and sad local people who stared at the world with emotionless empty eyes. Their tears had run dry, he knew that for a fact. And they were not complaining. They had learned to accept whatever Fate dropped onto their heads with submissive resignation. But he, on the other hand, hadn't, and didn't plan to. There was always hope. He refused to give up without putting up a fight. He had always been a stubborn fighter and hopeless optimist ever since he was a child.
But the little kitten didn't make it.
He—or she—died in his arms on the way to a vet clinic. And he cried. Without making a sound. He had never cried so hard in his life. He felt like everything he'd ever believed in had ceased to exist in a blink of an eye. Their cars stopped. Someone opened the door and said something. He paid no attention. He just broke down and cried. He saw the beautiful eyes of the mother cat. He saw the tiny kittens. He saw the big brownish dog. He saw the goats. He saw the boy and the girls. He saw the old couple. And they were all dead. Dead. Dead. Just like the hundreds and hundreds of people and animals he'd seen along the road. Someone took the kitten from his trembling hands. Someone hugged him and patted him on the back. Someone buried the kitten. Someone said a prayer. No one said a word to him. They remain friends after leaving the Army. He was not the first one who fell apart. And he was not even a cat person at that time.
A couple years later, he killed an asshole to save another kitten. On another beautiful summer day. In his own country. Once again the mom cat and her other babies didn't make it. But the tiny, bone-thin kitten survives.
Lester Santos opens his eyes and gently wraps his arms around his snoring cat. He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He has thought love is the answer for everything. But his wife, the woman he loves with all his life, has chosen to leave him. And even though she loves him truly and deeply, she's not coming back. But at least he has the sole custody of his child, his Jalapeño, his Super Cat...

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Chapter 3: Sweet Pea

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Sweet Pea

Sweet Pea Jenkins lets out a sigh. It was yet another lazy summer day, and she is still hopelessly and helplessly in love. Life can be such a cruel joke at times. She fell for the love of her life the moment she saw him at the waiting area of the vet clinic. She was a 5-month-old great Dane pup. He was a severely wounded tiny cat. The differences between them are too vast and too difficult to deny or overcome. She has known all along there will be no future between them. But, thankfully, their Dads are co-workers and very good friends. Now she and Jalapeño have also become the best of pals. And they get to have sleepovers at each other's house from time to time. Sweet Pea yawns and wiggles her tail as her Dad walks by with his cell phone to his ear, but he doesn't stop to pat her head. He's talking with Jalapeño's Papi in rapid Spanish. And he sounds concerned and a bit frustrated. Sweet Pea wonders what's going on. She hopes nothing bad happened. She likes Jalapeño's Mommy very much. Mama Santos is very kind and always smells so nice. She has the most beautiful smile in the world and makes the best homemade doggie treats ever. And she never ever waves her arms or yells when Sweet Pea and Jalapeño break things while playing chase and hide-and-seek. But from time to time she would wrap her arms around Sweet Pea(Jalapeño doesn't like to be hugged) and quietly cry when both Dad and Papi Santos were out of town for a job.
Sweet Pea knew how Mama Santos must have felt. Because she, too, sometimes feels the same.
She doesn't like to be left alone. She doesn't like to feel worried. She hates being scared. She hates feeling fear. She gets antsy when waiting. She gets jumpy and anxious when Dad is late. She tries to be strong. She tries to be brave. But most of the time she simply fails. She can't eat. She can't sleep. And she flat-out hates it when Dad comes home bruised, limping and bandaged. She wants him to be safe. She needs him to be safe. She doesn't want him to keep on challenging fate and death. She loves him too much to lose him. She doesn't want him to come home in a casket. And he won't even get a nice beautiful flag and a free burial site, jeez.
But Sweet Pea has no choice but to respect Dad's wish. "Someone has to do the job." He tells her from time to time when he's cleaning his guns and knives. This is his chosen path. This is what he's good at. This is his way to make a living. He's a highly trained professional. He's very experienced and smart. He comes back to her every time. He always does. And it's not like she can talk him out of it. Sweat Pea rolls her eyes and thinks of snorting, but soon decides against it because that's not very ladylike. She stand up and walks over to lick Dad's unwounded hand when he ends the phone conversation and leans against the kitchen counter in resignation.
"Damn." Howell "Zero" Jenkins says as he places his bandaged hand over eyes. "Damn." His best friend's wife has left their home with all her belongs except her wedding ring. He knows how devastating a blow it is to his friend, but there's nothing he can do to help save their marriage. Not any more. How can Esmé walk away like this? What more does she want from Lester? Why does she always have to change him? Why can't she just accept him and love him as he is? Does she not know how much Lester loves her? Does she not know how Lester longs to start a family with her? What is she thinking? What is so wrong with her? Why can't love be enough for her? Why?
Zero exhales a sigh as he thinks of his own failed marriage. He sits down on the floor, holds Sweet Pea in his arms and kisses her on top of her head. "At least I still have you, baby. At least I still have you."

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Chapter 4: Daredevil

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Daredevil

He enters the door and smiles nervously as he takes a small step forward. His smile falters as the two pairs of beautiful, calculating and suspecting eyes size him up. This is really not a big deal. He knows he shouldn't be scared. He is an animal lover who grew up on a small farm in a Midwest state. All the cats and dogs and hamsters and guinea pigs in the neighborhood loved him. Both Grandpa and Aunt Maisie were hardworking small-scale organic farmers, and nearly all the cafés and diners in the nearby towns bought pies and homemade breads from Grandma and Uncle Henry. He had always been a big kid and was never the brightest student in his class. And he, as well as everybody else, also knew that he wasn't smart enough for college and would never become the best linebacker in NFL history. So he cried his heart out the day Shadow, his big black mutt, died of old age and decided to join the Marines after high school. He was 17 that year. And now he's 29, has a steady and well-paid job, live a somewhat regular life, and is happily engaged to his high school sweetheart, a brilliant and soft-spoken woman he loves with all his heart.
He takes a deep breath to collect himself. He hasn't been this nervous in years. He was born an optimist but he's not naive. He knows a lot of people think he's stupid just because he's big, tall, and mild and has a redneck accent. The 8 years he served in the Marines and the 3 years of working experience at RangeMan have not only taught him to take advantage of people's prejudice, but also taught him that life is full of twists and turns and surprises and accidents. Anything can happen. The sky may still fall upon your head even if you are ready and prepared. Just take a look at Miss Plum's everyday life. And now he can't help feeling he's doomed. How he wishes Mei Ling is here. Everybody—kids, pets, moms and grandmas—loves Mei Ling. She was born with a kind heart and natural charm. She has always been the light of his life and the source of his strength. She will know how to babysit Jalapeño and Sweet Pea, a pair of famed troublemakers, without getting into trouble for 72 hours.
Hal Carpenter blows out a sigh. He has just bought a house at a decent price. his petite fiancée is moving in with him next week. They're going to get married in 3 months. Hopefully they will be welcoming their first baby in 2 years. Santos and Zero will definitely kill him or send him to a third world country if something goes wrong and he screws up. And Hal doesn't even want to think what Ranger will do to the three of them when he finds out about the two little—well, a 120-pound Great Dane is not exactly little, as a matter of fact—stowaways inside the RangeMan building...

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Chapter 5: Sweet Giant

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Sweet Giant

One by one the muscular men clad in black sneak inside to take a peek or say Hi. Some of them just want to have a quiet warm hug. Some of them come bearing gifts(turkey, tuna, sliced hard-boiled eggs, whole wheat tomato and cheese sandwiches, unsweetened yogurt, carrot sticks, lettuce, etc.). And some of the braver ones get lucky and walk away with only a scratch or two after rubbing the not-yet-asleep cat's belly. And just when the two famed trouble makers wake up from their nap and are about to get bored, Tank, the ebony mountain of a man they both love, finally arrives.
It's hard not to like Tank. He's big and strong and quiet and fun. He knows how to tickle a dog and rub a cat. He always has super delicious and healthy treats in one of his many pockets. He always smells of cats: mom cats, baby cats, homeless cats, all kinds of cats. And there's something about him that made both Jalapeño and Sweet Pea feel safe and relaxed around him they very first time they met. They have known Tank forever. He was there the day Dad took Sweat Pea home from the shelter. He was there the day Papi took Jalapeño home from the vet clinic. They know they can trust him. He will never hurt them. He will always protect them. And Papi is right, Jalapeño smirks, Tank does have the sweetest smile in the world when he's watching Animal Planet.
Together the three of them sit on the couch and watch TV. Soon they all fall asleep. Silently the door opens. Silently a tall dark handsome man comes in. His dark brown eyes fall on the three of them and his brow raises a tiny fraction of an inch. Sweat Pea's ear twitches in her sleep. Jalapeño snores on peacefully. Tank's eyes snap open and his face pales immediately. "It wasn't my fault." Without thinking Tank murmurs under his breath.
And Ranger almost smiles. Almost.

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Chapter 6: Home

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Home

Vince Cooper is a handsome man. On their wedding night his wife Lorie admitted that she fell for his bright eyes and killer smile the first time they met. He put an end to his career as a Navy SEAL and started working for RangeMan after his third child and only daughter was born. "Your country needs you. But your children need their father more." Lorie had said the night he flew back from Germany and rushed to the hospital. There was no tear in her eyes. There was no anger or sadness in her voice. But her fear and exhaustion were too obvious. It was sheer luck that she didn't lose their then-unborn daughter in the car accident. "And I need you, too." Her misty green eyes held him prisoner. Her hand felt small and cold in his. The bruise on her face shook his heart and left a deep crack in his soul. He didn't have the heart to tell her that twice he had almost been killed just the previous week. He didn't have the courage to tell her that someone had to step up and do the right thing. Too many of his friends and acquaintances had sacrificed their lives and left their loved ones behind. Aging parents lost their brave strong sons. Devastated wives passed out in a dead faint or froze on the spot upon receiving the heartbreaking news. Children of all ages never got to hug their fathers again. Cats and dogs kept waiting for the humans who would not be able to return.
Vince raised his wife's hand to his lips. The two of them didn't say anything the rest of the night. He was now facing a tough decision. The toughest in his life, as a matter of fact. They both knew she would stay by his side no matter which path he chose. They both knew how much he wanted to keep his country safe from the treacherous enemies. They both knew how much he wished he could be with his family every day, every hour and see his children grow up. The next morning Vince unlocked the door, stepped into his home and immediately got knocked down on the floor by his sons and dogs. "Daddy!" The twins wrapped their arms tightly around him. Fluffy and Buster wiggled their tails and licked his face happily. He struggled to sit up. His mother-in-law dapped at her eyes with the corner of her apron. Somewhere in the house Shadow the cat meowed. The heavenly scent of chocolate chips and blueberry pancakes danced in the air. There were more than one way to serve your country, he told himself as he gathered his sons in his arms and made his decision.
And though sometimes he still feels the longings deep down within, he's happy and contented now. Vince Cooper grins as the huge Great Dane yelps and jumps happily around a laughing Zero. He watches Santos—the legendary hot-blooded, fun-loving badass—kiss the cute purring cat. Yes, it feels good to be home. And Yes, he can't wait to tell his 2 pals Ranger has already found out about their perfect little plan.

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Chapter 7: Notorious

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Notorious

Jalapeño falls asleep waiting. His water bowl is still nearly full but his food plate is half empty. Outside the dark silent house the November rain keeps falling and makes everything look grey and cold and empty. The divorce papers Lester received earlier today lie on the dining table. Esmé wants nothing from him. She comes from a respectable rich family, and the thing she needs and wants the most is what Lester can't give her. He can't change who and what he is. He can't have his memories altered or erased. He has too many scars and gaping wounds. He has caused harms and done terrible things, and no shrinks in the world can do anything about his guilt. Esmé has wanted to know everything that has been tormenting him, but he just couldn't bring himself to bare his soul to her. He was too afraid. He didn't want to scare her away. He thought everything was going to be okay if he kept saying "I love you" and wrapped her in his muscular arms long enough. But, alas, like most women in this world, his beautiful wife needed more than that.

She didn't feel safe when time after time he jerked awake in the middle of the night because of the same nightmare. She grew frustrated when time after time he refused to open up to her. And then one day she decided she'd had enough. She wants a normal life. She wants a husband who can truly laugh, joke, and enjoy his life. She wants a husband who has no shadows in his dark brown eyes. She needs a husband who can fully let go of his dark disturbing past and move on without looking back. She wants to move back to the sunny West Coast city where she was born. She wants him to cut all his ties and start anew. She wants him to meet new people, make new friends, and find a new job. She likes his friends but she wants to be close to her family and friends. He can work for her father if he wants. They can start their own family. They will be happy. They have been through so much together. They deserve to be happy. He deserves to be happy. She deserves to be happy.

But Lester doesn't want to part ways with his friends. He loves his job. He knows who and what he is. He doesn't want to forget and then pretend. He wants to remember and then heal. It will most probably take a very long time. But that's the only way. He has to put himself back together. He has to grow out of it on his own. All he asks of the woman he loves is a little more patience. All he wants is a second chance. He never likes her brothers and their snobby wives. He can't say he like her mother. Her father is a good man but what he does for a living is boring. And he doesn't want to tear Jalapeño and Sweet Pea apart. He needs and wants to stay true to himself.

He and Esmé are too much alike. They are both stubborn, headstrong, passionate, and hot-tempered. And that fatal day they both lost their temper and chose the wrong things to say. A lot of hurtful words. A lot of untrue accusations. Then their disagreement evolved: A heated argument. An ugly fight/yelling match. A destructive conflict. A separation. And now a divorce...

Jalapeño wakes up and yawns the moment the sleek German black car stops at the curb. He's already waiting at the door when a tall dark familiar man half carries Lester inside. Jalapeño stays at the bedroom door watching curiously and worriedly as Ranger puts a murmuring Lester in bed. The strong smell of tequila fills the air. He meows and rubs against Ranger's legs as the silent man checks on his water bowl and fills his food plate. He jumps onto Ranger's lap and starts purring as a large warm Mocha Latte hand gently scratches him under the chin. He always likes Ranger: he's so quiet and so calm and somehow reminds Jalapeño of sunlight, of the moon, of the wind, of the sea and far away places. Ranger was there the day Jalapeño almost died. He is the one who took the gun out of Lester's hand and told him to get the dying kitten to the vet ASAP. He is the one who stayed behind to get rid of the gun, clean up the scene, and bury the dead mom cat and her babies. He is the one who found the perfect house for Tank and all his cats. He's the one who knows all the right spots to make a cat purr and he also has those most wonderful, magical hands.

Jalapeño curls into a ball and falls asleep. In his dream he sees his mother and siblings. In his dream Mama and Papi are still laughing so happily. In his dream Sweet Pea's Mommy didn't move to Atlanta, merry someone else and have babies. In his dream the world is perfect and no cats and dogs have to die just because they can't find a home. He dreams on. His tail and paws twitch slightly. He starts snoring. He feels safe and protected. And the large warm Mocha Latte hand never leaves him.

Nefarious 19

Title: Nefarious 19
Category: Books » Janet Evanovich
Author: Two Guns and a Knife
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M
Genre: Drama/Horror
Published: 09-10-12, Updated: 09-10-12
Chapters: 1, Words: 205

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Chapter 1: New Moon On Monday

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New Moon On Monday

I killed him.

Slowly my anger ebbs. But no one, not even God, can undo what I have done in cold murderous rage.

I blink and take a long calming breath.

Blood is everywhere.

He lies there, forever asleep in death.

His once handsome face freezes in shock and pain.

A green fly appears out of nowhere and lands on his bare furry chest.

The shattered bottle of love potion has soaked through the cheap thin carpet.

The unused condom is still in his hand.

I can't help but laugh.

My ragged, almost silent laughter echos through the air and sounds rough in my ears.

My thirty-three years of life is worse than a joke and a total mess.

My brand new silvery cake knife protrudes from his chest, buried to the hilt.

I thought I was destined to be caught between two lovers and torn between two men.

But Fate decided to intervene and thus forced my hand.

Now there is only one left.

And I desperately hope he hasn't walked away.

My name is Stephanie Plum.

I am not exactly sure why I killed Joe, truth be told.

But I feel no remorse, and no regret.

Don't, Don't You Want Me?

I changed my blood-stained clothes.

I wash my face and hands.

I pack a bag and grab Rex.

I quietly lock my door and quickly go down the stairs.

I never claim to be the most rational and reasonable woman in the world.

I start my car and head toward nowhere.

I never claim to be smart or brave.

I stop for a red light and chew my lips.

I have killed before, in self-defense.

I fish my second-hand iPhone out of my pocket and stare at it.

But this time I have no excuse for what I did.

I don't want to end up in jail.

There's a dead furry naked man on my apartment floor.

Who's going to take care of poor Rex when I am locked up in a cell?

The dead body won't just go away on its own.

I take a left turn when the traffic light changes.

I wish I can find the Bat Cave and hide in there.

I jump a little as my iPhone rings.

I pull over and almost cry in despair.

I brace myself and answer the call.

"Miss Plum," Hal, the sweet giant of a man, politely says.

"Call me Stephanie." I automatically correct him, once again.

"Um, Miss Plum," I can hear Hal blushing fiercely.

"There's a dead man on your floor." My shaky smile freezes on my face.

"Do you need any help with, um, relocating Detective Morelli?"

I open my mouth but no sound comes out.

I choke on my own silent tears.

My stomach groans like a rabid beast.

"Don't worry, Miss Plum." Gently Hal says. "The clean-up team is already on the way."

There is a god up there somewhere.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

I takes off my shoes before entering the door and place the keys onto the silver plate.

I puts Rex on the spotless kitchen counter and give him a slice of Ranger's apple.

The 7th-floor apartment is so quiet and serene.

I think Rex looks extraordinarily happy and relieved.

Too bad he's not a dog or a cat, I tell myself. I can use a big warm hug right now.

I place my bag on Ranger's couch.

I take off my clothes and take a long, long shower.

The water is comfortably warm.

The scent of Bvlgari is, as always, enchanting.

I wash my hair twice.

I scrub myself squeaky clean.

I have just killed a man.

A man I'd thought would always be a part of my life.

A man I'd thought I would always love and spend a part of the rest of my life with.

But now all of a sudden things have changed.

He was not the man I'd thought he was.

And I am not the old me.

I think of my brand new silvery cake knife.

I think of my fucked-up life.

I think of all the blood on my walls and carpet.

I think of the Vordo Night.

And then I stop thinking about what's happening in my shabby apartment right now.

No, I will not cry. I am Stephanie Plum, the Bounty Hunter from Hell.

I am never famous for being smart or extremely intelligent, but now I think at least I can start to learn.

And maybe I can be strong and tough too, just like Ranger and his Merry Men.

I think of the grin on Joe's face when he took off his clothes and showed me the hot pink bubble gum flavored condom in his hand.

Hot pink.

Bubble gum flavored.

I would fall madly in love with all the little knobs on the surface of the condom. Joe said as his grin deepened.

And I'd never ever felt so cheap in my fucking mess-up life.

Or so angry.

Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

I bought that silvery cake knife at the Farmer's Market in New York City a lifetime ago.

I was a 20-something pretty woman who dreamed big.

Life was pink and sparkly.

My future was bright and promising.

I was in love with Dickie.

We were going to get married and start our own family.

I had my dream wedding.

Everything changed in a blink.

I never got to use my silvery cake knife.

I can't remember why I took it out of the drawer this morning and placed it on my wobbling coffee table.

I wrap myself in Ranger's towel.

The ultra-expensive, thick, soft towel.

The towel that has once wrapped around his perfect muscular Mocha Latte naked body.

I blush, and maybe moan a little.

Now I smell just like him.

But I will never be as brave, smart and motivated as he is.

I sit down on Ranger's couch and turn on the TV.

I flip through the channels until I find The Rock's Tooth Fairy.

I lose myself in the movie.

I almost forget I have just killed a man.

I wonder what I saw in Joe.

I wonder why I was so obsessed with him.

I feel like I was under a curse.

A nasty mean old witch came to my dream every night and whispered in my ears.

And then the next morning I woke up and made all the bad decisions and stupid mistakes.

I look down at my hands and yes, I know I am trying to find an excuse.

I flat-out hate it when people say we only have ourselves to blame.

It can't always be my fault, can it?

I feel the oh so familiar tingle the on the back of my neck.

The door silently opens.

The keys drop onto the silver plate.

Ranger looks at me in the eyes and almost smiles.

The hot pink bubble gum flavored condom once again pops up in my mind.

I'm so, so glad I finally had the chance to use my silvery cake knife.

You Might Think...

From time to time I see the similarities between Ranger and The Rock.

They are both muscular and strong.

They are both handsome and tough.

They both have smooth dark skin and penetrating eyes.

They can both raise one brow.

They have the same blinding Million Dollar Smile.

And they can be both scary and beautiful at the same time...

My train of thoughts derails.

I let out a sigh and try not to fan myself.

I have just killed a man with my silvery cake knife.

And now I'm already ready to put everything behind me and move on.

Geez.

A drop of tear rolls down my cheek.

Am I cold blooded or what?

I feel no remorse and no regret, and I am really, really hungry now.

"Babe," Ranger wraps me in his arms and softly says.

I hide my face in his perfectly muscled chest.

He kisses me on top of my head.

I feel so warm and so safe.

The doorbell rings.

Ella arrives with a plate of food.

She gives me a bright friendly smile and quietly leaves.

I join Ranger at his table and with grateful tears gobble down 

the fruit salad, roasted stuffed tomatoes and steamed brown rice.

To Hell with Joe and his little hot pink knobs.

I am still kicking and very much alive.

And I feel much, much better now.

"Hot pink." Ranger says.

I almost spit my tea.

"Bubble gum flavored?" Ranger asks.

My eyes start to twitch.

"And with...knobs." The Big Bad Wolf actually laughs.

And still I love him so, so much.

Que Sera Sera

I sometimes wondered how my life will end up.

Will I be famous?

Will I be rich?

Will I be happily married and surrounded by kids?

Will I live long?

Will I die young?

Will I be loved and cherished by the man I love?

Will I be able to tell him I have been in love with him for many, many years?

Or will I end up a slave labour at a Cupcake factory?

Well, I guess the last question is no longer necessary.

I turn off the TV, biting my lip.

I stand up from the couch, taking a deep calming breath.

I take the first tiny step.

I push the unlocked door open.

Bravely I march forward, my heart thumping in my ears.

The familiar divine scent surrounds me, teasing my senses.

Will his love finally come with a ring?

I wrap my arms around him from behind.

Do I really, really need that ring?

I hid my face in his broad muscled naked back.

Warm water flows down, soaking me to the skin.

He's so perfect...maybe too perfect for someone like me.

He leans back against me, his hands grab hold of mine.

I've just killed a man, a man I've known almost all my life, a man I once thought I loved and loved me back.

"Babe," He tenderly says. I know he knows I'm crying.

I've made countless stupid mistakes, bad choices and wrong decisions. Sometimes I can't help feeling cheap and easy.

He turns off the shower. He helps me take off my clothes. He wraps me in his towel. Slowly my tears stop.

I want to be happy.

I want to be free.

I want to be be brave.

I want to be smart.

I want to be pretty.

I want to be loved.

I want to be cherished.

I want to be trusted.

I want to be respected.

I want to be able to be rely on.

I want to take responsibility for my own life.

I want to hold my future in my own hands.

I want to look him in the eyes and tell him I love him and need his love.

But now I just want to lick him dry...

Yum.

Ah, the story of my life.

Domino Dancing

I am back inside my apartment, wearing the same clothes.

I have blood on my face.

I have blood in my hair.

I am staring at my bloody hands.

And I'm trying not to shake.

No, I am not frightened or scared.

I know I am dreaming.

I know I have just killed a man.

And still I have no remorse and no regret.

"Cupcake." The dead man smiles up at me and croaks, his eyes two pools of blood, his mouth a gaping toothless hole.

I killed him because he thought I was easy.

"Cupcake." He tries to get up but can't. Through his unbeating heart my silvery cake knife pins him to the floor like a butterfly.

I killed him because he made me feel so cheap.

"Cupcake." His chest hair and the hot pink condom glisten in the light. My eyes catch the little knobs.

He knew all along what was going on between me and Ranger.

Still he came to me for balls-to-the-wall wild animal sex like nothing had happened.

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

He loved me in his own way, too.

His love came with nothing but a condom, too.

He didn't do stupid things like marriage and babies, either.

He was a calculating mercenary and a manipulating opportunist, too.

But Ranger never ever lies to me.

Never.

But Ranger is always there to catch me when I stumble, trip over my feet and fall.

Always.

And I kept choosing the wrong man.

Sorrow, shame and self-disgust clouded my vision.

Something deep down inside me snapped.

My rage erupted.

I grabbed my cake knife.

I stabbed Morelli many many times.

I took him by surprise.

He didn't have time to react.

He didn't have time to yell.

Just like that he fell back and died.

I blink and laugh.

Or maybe I am crying like a child...

I wake up in Ranger's arms, his husky voice whispering comforting words in my ear.

I'm shaking and bathed in tears.

I may be traumatized but I know the truth has to come out.

"I love you." So I keep telling Ranger over and over again. "I love you."

And I will always love him even if his love won't come with a ring.

Sirius

I am not a cold-blooded murderer.

I have killed before, in self-defense.
I did what I had to do to stay alive, but still from time to time I feel shame and guilt.

They are dead. And I am alive.

Maybe that's why I never talk back to my mother when she wants me to quit my job and find a man.

Maybe that's why I never think about making myself a better bounty hunter and carrying a loaded gun.

The survivor's guilt, I believe that's what it's called.

Yeah, I am a complicated and confused woman.

I am not extraordinary beautiful or especially smart.

I became the laughing stock of this stupid little town when my first husband cheated on me with the Town Skank.

"Poor Stephanie," They whispered and snickered behind my back, "she fell in love with the wrong man."

My mother looked at me with her pained blue eyes.

My father never looked up once from his mashed potatoes with gravy and perfectly cooked pot roast.

My Grandma wouldn't stop talking about open-casket viewings.

I felt so stupid and lonely.

I fell for the man who took advantage of me sexually TWICE when I was young and, yes, stupid.

I fell for the man who broke in my apartment, cuffed me naked to my shower curtain rod and trashed my things like a shameless thug.

I fell for the hot gooey pizza in his hand.

I fell for his bad boy smile and melted chocolate eyes.

Or maybe I just wanted to brag to the whole world that I tamed Joe Morelli, the Notorious Beast, and made him mine.

Maybe I just wanted to shout at the top of my lungs and let people know I was not a good-for-nothing.

I stick my fork through my pancake. I envision Morelli flowing at the bottom of the sea being nibbled by hundreds of thousands of fish, crabs and shrimps.

I am a terrible person.

I feel no remorse or regrets.

But I am not cheap, brainless or easy.

I wonder how Hal found out about the dead body on my floor.

I wonder what the RangeMan clean-up team did with the naked dead body.

I sneak a peek at Ranger and decide that there are things I don't really want to know.

See? I can be smart if I want to be.

He knows I love him.

He knows I have been in love with him for years.

He said he thought it was best to let me figure it out on my own.

He said he didn't want me to run away screaming like a headless chicken.

Alright, he didn't say "headless chicken".

And no, he didn't make love to me, either.

He just held me in his arms till I calmed down and finally fell asleep.

And when I woke up this morning he was already out of the shower.

I don't want to go back to my apartment.

I'm not afraid of ghosts, really.

But Rex likes it here.

And I haven't got the chance to lick Ranger dry...

Eye In The Sky

I spend my day inside Ranger's apartment.

I don't have any FTA.

I still have some money in the bank.

I am a terrible liar.

I've kind of moved in with Ranger.

I don't want Connie and Lula to sniff the air around me and say, "How come you smell just like Ranger, Stephanie?" with smirk on their faces.

I don't think I can remain calm and collected when people come asking, "Do you know where Joe is, Stephanie?"

I don't want them to know something is off and fishy when I pale and start to stammer.

I have absolutely no idea where Joe is at this moment, I swear.

But I do know he's no longer alive. I also know who killed him in a fit of blinding rage.

Suddenly I recall the time when he withheld the truth and deliberately made me believe I was the prime suspect of my ex-husband's murder.

I narrow my eyes and clench my fists, my Italian temper roaring like a rabid lion in my ears.

I wish I can use my silver cake knife to stab that lying rat bastard to death again.

He put me in danger and fear so that he could lure the real bad guys out and solve the case.

I so want to dug him out of his block of concrete to kick him in the ribs.

I so want to fish him out of the bottom of the sea or a murky river to knee him in the crotch.

I so want to give myself a head-slap for being such a stupid bitch.

I can't believe I forgave him and let him back in my bed.

I can't believe I had once thought about starting a serious, committed relationship with him.

"Calm down, Stephanie." Sternly I tell my seething self. "Get a grip of yourself. It's all in the past. You are with Ranger now."

My brows draw together as in confusion and excitement I frown.

Did I hear it right? My heart jumps in my chest.

I am with Ranger now? I feel a little dazed.

Really? He did tell me that he knows I love him, but...

I am with Ranger now? I start hyperventilating.

"Yeah, really." A warm, firm hand settles on the back of my head. A gentle masculine voice whispers in my ear.

"Deep breath, Stephanie." Ranger says. His heavenly scent dances around me in the air.

OMG. I'm with Ranger now.

I close my eyes and faint.

I am with Ranger now...

Yay...

Circle In The Sand

I wake up in Ranger's bed. Alone. With my clothes on. Damn.

I sit up, yawn, and set out to find my perfect Mocha Latte man.

Sooner or later the police will ask.

Sooner or later people will know.

Sooner or later my mother will call.

They will look at me funny. They will whisper behind my back.

Everybody will know what I have done but no one will ever have the proof—well, I desperately hope so.

Joe Morelli is dead. Dead. Dead.

Even his Grandma's evil Eye can't bring him back to life.

I honestly have no idea how my mother will think or react.

Will she be appalled that I killed another man?

Will she be relieved that I have finally found myself another man?

Will she find it hard to look at the Morellis in the eyes and say Hi?

Will she get mad and stop making me chocolate chips cookies and pineapple upside-down cakes?

Will she be upset that Ranger and I are living together in sin?

Will she and my father team up and pressure me for grandchildren?

Will my always quiet and seemingly indifferent father tell me he wants to meet his grandson before he dies?

Will my father want to take my son to New York for a stroll in the Central Park and a Yankees game?

Will my father hold little Carlos's hand and buy him ice cream, hot dog and Cracker Jacks?

What if little Carlos, like his father, only eats healthy food?

What if little Carlos, like his father, is a Phillies fan?

What if little Carlos tells me he doesn't like hamsters and he wants a cat?

OMG! My child doesn't like my pet!

What's a mother gonna do?

My head starts spinning. My vision begins to blur. My heartbeat quickens. I stumble and walk head-on into a wall of muscles.

Ranger wraps me in his arms and then silently laughs.

Geez. I hope he's not going to tell me poor Rex won't be around when our son is old enough to want a cat.

He smells so nice. He feels so good. A smile sneaks onto my face as I close my eyes and melt into him..

I never knew I can so deeply love a man.

It's about trust.

It's about care.

It's about faith.

It's about us.

It's about give and take...

And later that night I finally, finally get to lick him dry. Yay...

And nope, I feel no remorse, and no regret.

Emotion In Motion

I hope I am the woman he really needs.

I hope I am the woman he truly wants.

I don't know when I started wanting more and more.

I want his body. I want his heart.

I wanted his friendship. I want his love.

My delicious knight in shining black armour.

He alone holds the key to my happiness, love, and heart.

I snuggle closer to Ranger and almost cry.

I've always been afraid that I am an epic failure that will never be good enough.

I've been a disappointment to my mom.

I've been a disappointment to myself.

I can't live with myself if I fail him, too.

I'm not smart enough.

I'm not brave enough.

I'm not exactly heartbreakingly beautiful or drop-dead gorgeous.

I'm never the sexy kitten type.

And I've just killed a man out of unreasonable rage in a fit of violent temper with a cake knife.

I miss my silvery cake knife. I know I will never be able to get it back.

I should've stabbed that rat bastard with the cheap cutting knife I bought in a garage sale last year.

Or was it the year before that?

I place my hand on Ranger's muscled bare chest.

I press my leg against his smooth naked thigh.

I try to think but can't concentrate.

I know he's a busy man.

I know he's had a long day at work.

I know he has to wake up early tomorrow and that he needs his sleep.

However, to know is one thing, to restrain my roaming hand and lips is totally another.

Well, my hand, lips, and tongue, truth be told.

And maybe a little teeth...

Sigh. My life is so complicated.

I'm so, so glad that the man I love with all my soul wakes up in time and decides to make me feel much, much better.

Soon all my fears and worries melt away and disappear.

Tomorrow is another day.

I will wake up in Ranger's arms...and in our bed.

Somewhere out there Joe Morelli's dead decomposing naked hairy body being nibbled by worms or fish.

But frankly, people, I don't give a damn.

Right now I have better things to do, dreams to fulfill, and a life to live.

And nope, I feel no remorse, and no regret.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

I can't hole up inside the 7th-floor apartment forever.

I don't want people to get suspicious and link me with Joe Morelli's murde—um, disappearance.

I stop the Cayenne outside the bonds office.

I force a shaky, twisted smile on my face, open the door and put the doughnut box and coffee on Connie's desk.

"OMG, Stephanie!" Both Connie and Lula look at me with widened eyes and squeal like the chipmunks in the Disney cartoon.

"Where have you been?" Lula pays absolutely no attention to the sweet creamy coffee and the heavenly doughnuts.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Somehow Connie's mustache actually looks quite cute under the bright morning light.

"Did you hear?" They ask in union. "Joe Morelli eloped with Terry Gilman!"

I blink. I gape. I feel faint. Joe Morelli eloped with Terry Gilman? What the fuck? What the Hell? Am I in the Twilight Zone?

"Terry sold her car and house, cleaned out her bank account and left her mom a note!"

"Terry's fiancé—you know, the big shot mobster from New York City? Marco Whatshisname? He went berserk!"

"Old man Vito got real mad and bust a vein!"

"They said he put a hit on Morelli's head in his hospital bed!"

"Bella put the Eye on Vito and Marco and all their men!"

"They said she also put the Eye on Terry, your Grandma, and probably you!"

Connie and Lula talk non-stop and laugh and giggle like a pair of happy, carefree teenage girls.

I open the doughnut box, grab hold of a Strawberry Delight, and in 2 bites wolf it down.

My life is better than a fairy tale.

Today I woke up naked in Ranger's arms.

We showered together.

Ella made us breakfast.

For once Rex didn't bite me on my finger.

Ranger kissed me on my lips and told me not to get crazy before he headed down to his office.

He's going to meet me here at noon and take me back to my apartment to pack my stuff.

Hal blushed and smiled shyly when I ran into him in the garage. As if nothing has happened.

The RangeMan clean-up team know what they are doing.

No body. No murder.

They are all loyal to Ranger.

And Joe Morelli, the cocky and ambitious Trenton police

detective, had made some enemies over the years.

The countless mobsters he blackmailed or extorted into cooperating.

The people he used, abused, manipulated and trampled on to achieve his goals and get his promotion.

I have nothing to worry about, really.

Ranger will always protect me and keep me safe.

He lends me cars. He offers me help. He's always there to save my ass.

I gulp down the coffee and gobble down a Chocolate Surprise.

He made Eddie Abruzzi killed himself.

I don't really want to know what happened to Terry Gilman. Not right now.

I still have to turn on my cell phone and call my mom...

Sail Away, Sail Away, Sail Away

My mother sighs, and sighs again.

Both my eyes start to twitch.

Her unsaid "Why me, Stephanie? Why me?" is shouting right into my ears and driving me crazy.

I just want to throw my phone on the floor and run all the way back to the RangeMan building.

I just want to jump onto the Ranger's heavenly king-size bed and hide under the blanket.

I just want to be her favored child. I just want to make her smile. I just want to make her proud.

I can never forget the fear in her eyes when she ran over that rabbit and saved my life.

So I lied to her about the cello. And pretty much about everything else.

I was too afraid to tell her the truth. I was too afraid to show her my foolishness.

I was too afraid to see the undisguised disappointment and sorrow in her clear blue eyes.

My tear is about to drop. Then I feel the pricking sensation and turn and see Ranger get out of a RangeMan car.

He's clad head to toe in black.

He looks dangerously sexy and sexily dangerous.

And he's mine, mine, MINE.

My heart bursts into a flame of happiness, all my worries and sadness forgotten, and I smile.

Lula frowns and sniffs the air. Connie widens her eyes and does the same.

"OMG! Stephanie!" The two of them excitedly exclaim. "You smell like Ranger!"

"What did I just hear, Stephanie?" My mother asks. "What do they mean that you smell like Ranger? Stephanie? Hello? Are you there?"

"It wasn't my fault." I blink, swallow, and finally say.

My two friends look at me like a pair of hawks.

"Hello, Stephanie? Hello?" My mother keeps saying in my ear. "What do they mean that you smell like Ranger?"

My breath catches in my throat. My stomach does a flip. My head goes blank.

"Babe," Ranger comes through the door and nonchalantly says.

He's mine, mine, all mine, and mine alone.

I turn off my phone. I grab my bag. I give Connie and Lula a little finger wave.

Nothing else matters anymore.

Even if I killed my ex-on-and-off-boyfriend in a fit of cold murderous rage.

Anywhere Is

The door slides open with a groan.

The air smells cool and clean.

I grab hold of Ranger's black shirt and press into him.

No, there's no hairy decomposing dead man on my living room floor.

Downstairs in the parking lot Joe's navy blue Ford SUV is nowhere to be seen.

My messy silent apartment looks just the same.

No blood. No trace. No anything.

My refrigerator hums. My answering machine blinks. My 86-year-old next door neighbor dances and sings.

I rest my head against Ranger's back. I let out a long held breath.

A patch of sunlight shines down on my couch.

A hint of breeze dances blows through my dusty window.

We stand watching the spot where Morelli exhaled his very last breath.

He won't turn into a zombie, will he?

His ghost won't come back to haunt me, will it?

I'm not going to Hell for this, am I?

Why is it I don't feel a bit guilty? Why is it I have no remorse?

I bite my lower lip, trying not to panic.

I'm not turning into a cold-blooded heartless murderer, am I?

What price will I pay for this eventually?

Can I still be happy? Can I still be free?

Can I still be loved, protected, and cherished?

Ranger gathers me into his arms, kisses me on top of my head, and says nothing.

He just holds me tight for a long moment.

His silence and warmth comfort me.

He propels me toward my small bedroom.

I think of the night he came here, said "Nice tackle, babe", and then kissed me.

I think of the night he came here, ate a cookie, and made love to me.

I think of the night he came here, got shot, and almost died.
Yes, he is magic.

And I almost lost him.

How different my life would've been had I not been such an idiot and made him tell me to repair my relationship with Morelli.

I slap myself hard on the forehead, moan in pain, and start packing.

Nope. I still don't want to know what exactly happened to Terry and Joe Morelli's furry dead body.

Heaven

I pack my stuff.

I zip my bags.

I cast a look around my bedroom for the very last time.

I can hear Ranger talking softly on his phone outside.

Yes, I know he's a busy man who has a business to run.

Yes, I remember the look in his eyes when he told me "no
price".

I now have a new bed.

I now have a new home.

I now have a new life.

I now have the man I love and yay he loves me back.

I will move on, focus on our future, and let go of my messed-up and somewhat hideous past.

But still I wish I can jump in a time machine and go back in time to smack my stupid self on the back of my brainless head.

I can't believe the young foolish me let Joe Morelli take advantage of me sexually twice.

I can't believe the foolish lonely me let him back into my bed after he cuffed me naked to my own shower curtain rod.

He tried to attack me when the police let him out of the meat truck that day in front of a small crowd.

I'd just proved his innocence, for crying out loud. Instead of thanking me he just wanted to smack me around.

And like a hopeless horny idiot I actually wanted to have a relationship with him.

Like a helpless brain-dead moron I actually believed he had become a good decent man who deserved true happiness.

I even thought about quitting my job, settling down with him, cooking his dinner, and popping out little Morellis.

Geez.

Was I blind or retarded or what?

I give an exasperated sigh, decide against slapping myself hard on the forehead again, and pick up my bags.

I stagger out of the bedroom, drop the heavy bags by my crappy couch, and collapse beside my Man in Black.

He raises a perfect brow at me and gathers me closer with one perfect muscled arm.

Yes, he has told me to give him a holler when I finish packing.

But I'm not a fragile delicate red, red rose grown inside a freaking humid stuffy greenhouse.

I can be smart. I can be tough. I can kill a rat bastard in a fit of anger without blinking my clear blue eyes.

Suddenly I wish I had told him "Go ahead and make my day" when he said he could give me a baby if I really wanted one...

My eyes glaze over and I moan a little as the image of me carrying our baby appears in my mind.

We will make the most beautiful babies, I'm sure of that.

They will have Ranger's hair. They will have Ranger's eyes.

They will have Ranger's smile.

They will be smart and cute and perfect, just like their father...

But what if one of them has my crazy hair, my not exactly beautiful look, and my pathetic excuse of a brain?

My eyes widen. My heart panics. What if the Bat Sperm is defeated by my imperfect genes?

And why am I fantasizing about having the Bat Babies?

Wait a minute! Babies? I'm going to have babies?

"Yeah, maybe start next year," Nonchalantly Ranger says as he kisses and nibbles me on my neck. "And one at a time."

And just like that he got me all hot and bothered.

Like he always does.

And this time Grandma is not here to interrupt us.

Lucky, lucky me.

Yay...

Send Me An Angel

I put on my shoes.

Ranger picks up my bags.

It's very late in the afternoon. I'm most happy and...satisfied.

With the apartment keys in my hand and a smile on my face, I open the door.

And voilà, there my mother stands.

She's wearing a scowl. She's about to knock.

She opens her mouth to speak, and freezes upon seeing Ranger and the bags in his hands.

Yea, I know she has been worried.

Yea, I know she loves me.

Yea, I know she wants me to be happy.

Yea, I know she just wishes I can be as normal as everyone else:

No more blown-up cars. No more dangerous job.

No more getting shot. No more freaks, crazies, nutters and lunatics.

No more gossips, rumours, and weird stories.

No more moving in and out of a man's house. No more living in sin.

She's ready to trade her limbs for my second wedding ring.

She may gladly sell her soul so that I can settle down and pop out kids.

I will have a roof over my head, food on my table, and clothes on my back.

I just have to warm a man's bed.

I just have to smile and nod and say "Yes, dear" and listen to whatever he says.

I just have to cook, to clean, to sew, to iron, and to mend.

As long as I have a bottle of Johnny inside my kitchen cabinet and know when to close my ears and eyes, I shall be fine.

Are you kidding, mom? I've just killed a man, my lucky No. 4, and I feel no remorse, and no regret.

"He had it coming!" is all I have to say.

"We are moving in together, Mrs. Plum." Smoothly Ranger says. His hand at the small of my back, his voice calm and polite.

My mother gasps. Her blue eyes wide and shocked, her shaky hand covering her mouth.

"But I thought...I thought she's...she was with Joseph..."

"Detective Morelli is no longer a part of Stephanie's life. She's with me now."

The warmth of Ranger's hand melts into my back. I feel safe and protected.

The hint of a barely there smile stirs something in my heart.

I'm this close to turn around and kiss him silly. Yeah, right in front of my mother...

"We will move on to the next level when we both feel the time is right—"

OMG! He can read my mother's mind!

OMG! He's talking about "Someday"!

Happiness and surprise swell within me.

My mind pretty much goes blank after that.

I feel like a sleepwalker living a sweetest and softest dream.

We—well, Ranger—say goodbye to my mother.

We lock the door of my old apartment.

We go downstairs and get in the Cayenn.

We drive back to RangeMan.

We take the elevator to the bright, airy, serene, tidy penthouse apartment.

He takes my bags to the closet, ruffles my hair, and goes back down to his office.

And leaves me at the Bat Cave.

And the Bat Cave is forever...

I Ran (So Far Away)

Marriage.

A choice.

A decision.

A social ritual.

A boring cliché.

A duty.

A burden.

An obligation.

A bondage.

A mere ceremony.

Sometimes it sucks(like Val's).

Sometimes it morphs into a habit, a daily routine(like my parents').

Sometimes it happens when you did something stupid...

He was young and a little drunk, and maybe just a tiny bit lonely.

And Rachel was really, really cute.

But he did the right thing and took the responsibility, while sometimes I still wonder why the hell I married Dickie.

What was I thinking?

Was I stupid or something?

Was I retarded or mentally challenged?

What kind of name is Stephanie Orr, really?

And someday I am going to get married again. This time to my Man of Mystery.

I stare at the shining twinkling beautiful diamond ring.

My eyes start to twitch.

I start to panic.

I know it must be very expensive.

It's the symbol of a promise.

It's the gift from my Batman.

What if I lose it?

What if one day I decide to do the dishes and it falls down the drain?

What if Rex eats it?

What if...what if...

"Babe," The corner of Ranger's lips curl up a bit. "Stop worrying."

I hope he's not silently laughing at me.

I have every right to worry: I'm the magnet of disaster. Weird things always, ALWAYS, happen to me.

I will most definitely cry my heart out if I lose my engagement ring.

The beautiful elegant perfect ring.

The ring Ranger went to New York and chose for me.

The ring Ranger slid onto my finger on Halloween eve.

Ranger cups my face with his large warm hands and holds me captive with his intense dark brown eyes.

Time stops.

Silence falls.

Something sweet and fierce takes hold of my heart and soul.

His force field wraps around me.

"You are not going to lose my ring," Tenderly Ranger kisses me on my lips and softly says. "Frodo Baggins."

I gape like a goldfish.

My Dark Lord laughs.

And then he kisses me again as my shaking hands travel onto his rock-hard abs.

Yay...

Happily Ever After?

 

I used to think my life was just like Jersey Shore.

A failed marriage.

An unhealthy relationship.

A mother who liked Jack Daniel and always asked, "Why me?"

A father who was obsessively in love with pot roast, mashed potatoes, and TV.

A not very bright brain.

A not exactly beautiful face and a definitely not perfect body.

All the kinky tacky things I let Joe Morelli do to me.

All the dirty words I let he whisper in my ear and say in public.

All the lies I told.

All the mistakes I made.

All the strange people I met.

All the monkeys I fed.

And then that day I lost my temper and killed a horny smirking Morelli.

My life took a sharp turn and was never the same.

I now live with a cool quiet sexy dangerous man.

I now have a shiny diamond ring on my hand.

My mother takes a look at the ring and then faints.

My Grandma widens her eyes, takes hold of my hand and happily says, "Well, ain't that a pip?"

Val and Albert carry my mother into the house, lay her down on the couch, and then gawk at my ring.

My father takes his eyes off the TV with a small confused frown on his face and asks, "Is dinner ready?"

Angie concentrates on her New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzles.

Lisa giggles.

Peggy Sue wails.

Mary Alice neighs.

My eyes start to twitch.

Ranger places his hand at the small of my back.

He doesn't say a word but still I hear that silent amused "Babe,"

He already knows my whole family is crazy.

Every day Connie and Lula keep asking me when we are going to have the Bat Baby.

Terry Gilman is still missing.

One night I dreamed that Joe Morelli became a zombie.

The clock on the living room wall turns to 5:59. My mother opens her eyes, shoots up from the couch and rushes into 

the kitchen.

Great, the pot roast won't be too dry tonight.

And next Friday I am going to meet Ranger's family.

Ah, the story of my life.