A collection of quirky little one-chapter
stories. If you believe a hairy man who has once cuffed a woman to her
shower curtain rod and trashed her apartment deserves to be happy, you'd
better not read this story. Babe HEA, of course. Theme Song: Don't You
Want Me by The Human League.
Title: 57 Ways To Dump A Man
Category: Books » Janet Evanovich
Author: Two Guns and a Knife
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M
Genre: Humor/Drama
Published: 10-23-12, Updated: 10-23-12
Chapters: 1, Words: 578
Category: Books » Janet Evanovich
Author: Two Guns and a Knife
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M
Genre: Humor/Drama
Published: 10-23-12, Updated: 10-23-12
Chapters: 1, Words: 578
Chapter 1: One For The Zombie
One For The Zombie
He wakes up in his death.
He
lets out a low ragged moan and for the very first time senses the
burning hunger deep down within. Brains, he craves for brains. Warm,
gooey, bloody, fresh human brains. Yes, he used to be a tall dark movie
star handsome hairy man, but now he has become a zombie. He doesn't care
about "why". He doesn't want to know "how". His brain cells are already
dead. He is a walking corpse. He is a monster of the night. He is a
creature of darkness. He is a greyish green zombie. He won't feel pain.
He won't feel ashamed. He doesn't remember who killed him: He doesn't
care. He won't want to revenge. He just wants brains. He wants to chew a
human head open. He wants to stick out his decomposing tongue to lick,
and then sucks out the soft creamy yummy greyish pink brain inside the
cracked-open skull. Sweet, fluffy, pudding-like brains. His sole
addiction. The only meaning and purpose of his miserable existence.
He
leers, and showed his off-white, uneven teeth. He tries to move and
break away from his confining bondage. He fails. He tries again, and
fails again. He has lost the ability to feel confused the moment that
silvery cake knife stabbed through his heart and killed him on the spot.
He didn't even have time to ask Stephanie "Why, Cupcake? Why?" before
she packed a bag, grabbed Rex, and fled. He didn't scowl when the blonde
gorilla named Hal, one of Ranger's thugs, let himself in, squatted down
beside him, checked his vital signs, made a couple calls, and left. He
didn't protest when the RangeMan clean-up team silently arrived and set
to work immediately. He couldn't. Even if he wanted to. He was already
dead. He was lying stark naked on Stephanie's floor, with a hot pink
bubble gum flavored condom in his hand. He'd been so sure she would fall
madly in love with all the little knobs.
Oh boy was he wrong.
Blood
was everywhere. He will never know why Stephanie was so mad. He will
never know he'd made the biggest mistake in his life. He was no longer
alive. He was but something that needed to be hide, to bury, to destroy,
to be made disappear. And now here he is. A hungry zombie. A living
dead. A supernatural phenomenon. A decomposing human remain trapped
inside a huge block of concrete sunk at the bottom of the cold merciless
sea. Deep-sea creatures flow past him. Nuclear submarines sail overhead
above him. Stephanie and Rex are living happily with Ranger. The
RangeMan clean-up team know what they are doing. Hal gets a call from
his petite fiancée and blushes fiercely. Bob the dog sniffs the scent of
tomato sauce inside Mrs. Morelli's living room and once again starts
howling. Grandma Bella murmurs to herself and places the Eye on Snooki.
Joe Morelli, the world's most unfortunate zombie, tries to move and
break away from his confining bondage. And fails. And fails. And fails.
And fails.
"Cupcake..." He moans.
"Cupcake..." He groans.
"Cupcake..." He drools.
"Cupcake..." He struggles in vain against his destiny. "Yuuuuuuuuum..."
And some poor souls think he's happily married to his high school sweet heart, the cold-eyed mob Barbie, Terry...
Chapter 2: Two Boxes Of Bullets
"I
have proof you killed Abruzzi." The tall dark lean muscled man sneers
through tightly clenched teeth. "And you won't get away this time,
Manoso."
He takes a step closer to the tall dark still silhouette, his movie star handsome face contorted. The contempt and resentment in his chocolate-colored eyes are as chill as the midnight autumn wind. "I have given you enough warnings. I have warned you to stay away from Stephanie. I have told you to stay out of my business. But you are just too stupid to listen, aren't you?" He narrows his eyes, balls his fists, and almost bares his teeth. He can feel the rush of adrenaline through his body. Yes, he's all too ready to close in for the kill, but he wants to take his time and prolong the suffering. He wants to tease and to torment his arrogant and unwelcome challenger. He wants to bring that crazy mercenary down to his knees. He wants to make the goddamn Cuban bastard to taste fear and admit defeat.
"You see, I have it all planned. All I have to is snap my fingers and you will be squashed like a bug." He grants the silent man a generous smile. He feels like a hunter on a safari aiming his gun at a rabid lion. He knows he's doing the whole fucking society a service. In no time at all the streets of Trenton will be safer. The ex-military thugs and ex-gangsters won't last long without their sly shady leader. And his on-and-off blue-eyed wild-haired girlfriend will crawl back to his bed and finally know her rightful place and learn her lesson.
"But I am a good decent man. And tonight, I am feeling generous." His smile grows into a smirk. A sense of victory swells up and swirls within his chest. He looks straight into those cold dark brown eyes and for the very first time feels no fear. Oh yes, he's got the upper hand. He's the one who's calling the shots here. And soon he will get what he wants and become the sole winner of this endless game. "Get your ass out of Trenton and don't ever come back. You've got 1 day to pack and leave. Keep your dirty paws to yourself and erase yourself from Stephanie's life. If I find out that you get in touch with Stephanie by any means, I'll—"
He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence. He might or might not feel the slicing burning pain in his head and chest as the 2 bullets shot through his heart and brain. He didn't even have time to widen his eyes. He just staggered backward, fell to the ground, and then died without a sound. He had been a bossy cocky police detective for too long. He had crossed a line that should never be crossed. He had been blinded by his anger, frustration, and desire. He had forged the evidence and planned to plant it on his cold-blooded, calculating, manipulating, invincible opponent.
And he had also forgotten who he was dealing with.
Several tall muscular men step out of the darkness and start cleaning up the scene. The calm silent tall dark handsome drops his gun in a bag and hands it to one of his men. He's not only their boss but also their brother and friend. They are all perfectly trained and expertly experienced. They leave no trace behind. They have been through Hell together. They have saved each other's sanity and live for countless times. They don't appreciate to be treated like trash or threatened. They happen to know just the perfect spot to dump a dead man. And yes, he will never be found.
Their leader's cell phone vibrates. He knows who's calling at this hour. He knows she gets lonely whenever he's late. He knows she just wants to hear his voice. He knows soon she'll hung up, let out a sigh, and bites her lip. He smiles and holds the phone to his ear.
"Babe," He softly says.
Chapter 3: Three Monkey Plams
He
closes his eyes, lets of a small sigh, and dreams a dream. He is
flying, and floating, in the blue cloudless sky. He feels so light and
so free. Everything is so quiet and so bright. He looks up but can't see
the sun. He feels the wind in his face. He smiles a hearty smile, all
his burdens, worries, and pain forgotten. But somehow he still remebers
his name. Yes, he always knows he's handsome, dark, and tall. He can be
charming whenever he wishes. And he always gets what he wants. He never
claims to be normal. He's not exactly kind or nice. He vaguely remembers
his dark shady past. A brutal father. A submissive mother. A not very
smart elder brother and too many naughty, nasty cousins. He also has a
sister, he thinks, and a dog, and a house, and a car, and a job, and...a
gun? Yes, a gun. The gun he didn't have the chance to use when the
blazing bullet tore through his heart and killed him on the spot...
Yes, he's dead.
He was killed by the woman he thought and still thinks he loves. The rage and pain in her stunning blue eyes disarmed him. The Gloak in her hands took him by surprise. He tried to blink. He tried to call her name. But he didn't need to ask her why. He'd killed the man they both knew she loved. He'd shot him from behind. He'd seen the tall dark muscular man fall to the cold hard ground before driving away from the crime scene in the pouring rain. He'd smelled the rusty scent of the warm Cuban blood. He remembers. He laughs. Oh yes, unlike his brother, he's pretty heartless and smart. A bullet the heart from behind the back. A perfect revenge. A most deserved payback. No one steals from him. No one. Whoever snatches his Cupcake away from him shall pay the price. He had it all planned out. He had the evidence all wiped out. He knows he has left no trace behind. How did Stephanie find out? He had just stepped out of his shower when she appeared in front of his eyes with that gun in her slightly shaking hands. He'd just killed her mentor, her friend, the love of her life. He'd planned to sit down on his couch, turn on his TV, drink his cold beer, chew his pizza, and watch a ball game to celebrate Ranger's death.
But his Stephanie, his Cupcake, his currently "off" girlfriend shot him through his heart and rained on his parade.
He lets out a sigh. The air suddenly turns cold. The sky suddenly turns dark. And an unseen formidable force grasps hold of him and starts pulling him downward. He tries to scream. He tries to yell. He feels cold and lonely. He feels the blinding pain. He feels the unbearable hurt. He feels the burning humiliation. He chokes on his murderous anger. It wasn't his fault. She shouldn't have left him. She shouldn't have gone to Ranger. She shouldn't have spent the night in Ranger's bed. She shouldn't have accepted Ranger's Halloween gift. She shouldn't have worn it around her white slender neck. She shouldn't have shown the whole damn world that fucking diamond and topaz Tiffany Key.
With an inaudible thud he drops from the sky and lands on the earth. He opens his eyes and immediately sees those familiar muscular men clad in black and the motionless body of a man at their feet. He recognizes his own hairy naked body. He starts to panic. He fears the coldness of the concrete. He fears the merciless sea. He tries to run but can not move. He tries to shout but makes no sound. He has no idea where he is. He doesn't know how much time has passed. He's flowing along with a river. He hears the silence coming from the barge. He senses the presence lurking under the murky water. He smells the scent of wilderness and death in the midnight air. He stares in terror as one by one, piece by piece, different parts of his body are thrown into the dangerous river and devoured by hungry greedy gators. He feels like he's watching a sick, twisted version of Peter Pan. He wants to laugh. He wants to scream. He wants to tell himself this isn't real. He's not dead. He's still alive. This is a dream. A terrible horrible most unpleasant dream. Stephanie will be by his side in his bed when he wakes up. She will smile at him and tell him she loves him and wants to marry him and bear him children. They will spend the rest of their lives together. They will be happily ever after. And Ranger will still be dead, dead, dead.
The very last piece of his chopped up torso falls inot the gaping waiting mouth of a cold-blooded gator. A bottomless hole appears out of thin air in the middle of the river. The irresistibly strong force pulls him toward the hole. No no no it wasn't his fault. He just wants to be happy. He just wants Stephanie. He just wants Ranger out of his way. He had it all planned. He has gotten rid of that unregistered gun on his way home. He's sure there's no witness. He didn't personally check but he knew Ranger was dead. He will appear on Stephanie's door step when her sorrow ebbs with his most charming smile, a bunch of red, red roses, and a shining diamond ring. He will make her forget her lost love in no time at all. He will make her let go of her memories and move on with him. Ranger is already dead. She is still alive. She is still young and beautiful. There's no reason for her to spend the rest of her life in loneliness and sadness. She will see to reason. Her mother will make her see to reason. They will get married. They will soon have babies. And she will forget everything, everything, about Ranger...
The invisible force drags him toward the hole. He tries to fight. He tries to resist. He tries to scream for help. The barge sails away. The gators submerge under the water. He falls into the hole. He keeps falling and falling and falling. The hole closes up and disappears. Everything is peaceful. Everything is quiet. The men in black remain silent. Thye know how to keep a secret. The gators go back to sleep. The frogs croak. The wind sighs. The stars blink. Miles and miles and miles away, a wild-haired blue-eyed woman says another prayer. The tall dark handsome man slowly wakes up in the hospital bed. The woman lets out a sob and calls his name. The nurses run. The doctors come. The man named Tank smiles a wide happy smile as his boss and best friend, Ranger, takes hold of Stephanie's hand and softly says:
"Babe,"
Their Happily Ever After has just begun.
Chapter 4: Four To Nothing
He
drinks himself away. The everlasting pain within his chest feels raw
and refuses to relent. He can't sleep at night. He tosses and turns in
his cold lonely bed. He knows he will dream of her. And once he dreams
of her, he knows he's gonna cry. He never knew it would hurt this much.
He thought losing her would be no big deal. Now he's afraid even to
close his eyes. He sees her smiling face and bright blue eyes whenever
he closes his eyes. He hears her crystal laughter whenever he unlocks
his heavy front wishes he can forget that summer day. The sun was high,
the wind was blowing in from the sea and thus tasted salty. He knew she
would say yes should he propose right there on the afternoon beach, but
for some reason he hesitated. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to get
married. He was used to his simple and carefree lifestyle. He was
already a happy man. He just had to walk and feed Bob and wait for the
pizza boy or the Chinese takeout guy. He didn't have to worry about her
all the time: Ranger was always there to save her butt and lighten up
the day; sleek shining black cars would materialize out of nowhere
whenever her car got blown up. He could have her in his bed while Ranger
and his muscular dangerous(and probably demented) men helped her out
and kept her safe. So he swallowed the words back down and bought her an
ice cream cone instead. Salted caramel and mixed nuts. He will always
remember that flavor till the day he grows too tired to live and finally
dies.
He thought he had time. He was not yet 35; he could wait a couple years to have kids. He would pop the question when she got older and ready to settle down. He knew for a fact that she knew her clock was ticking. Her mother had been applying more pressure. He wouldn't have to wait too long. She could get a wedding dress on Black Friday the year after next. It would be much cheaper. He would let her worry about the church, the wedding reception hall, the flower arrangement, and the guest list. He would see if he could lay his hands on Grandma Bella's antique wedding ring. He could use the his money on more worthwhile stuff such as a new TV or a new iMac. Yes, he had it all planned. Then one day out of the blue things suddenly changed.
Ranger got shot trying to protect her, and he almost died in her arms while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. It was all her fault. She was, as usual, being stubborn and careless. And her foolish mistake almost cost Ranger his life. She broke down and cried. She wouldn't talk to anyone. She wouldn't leave Ranger's side. She sat in the waiting room, shaking. She looked sorrowful and scared. She was covered in Ranger's blood. She didn't even look at him when he rushed to the hospital and tried to take her home. She didn't even respond to his voice when he called her "Cupcake", her favorite nickname. She just sat there grabbing hold of Tank's arm. As if he didn't exist. At that moment a little voice in his head told him he had lost the everlasting cat and mouse game. He knew it was telling the truth but still he refused to believe. He would give her some time, he decided.
Maybe Ranger would die. Maybe one of Ranger's other women would arrive. Maybe Ranger would wake up and get mad and and eventually tell her to quit her job and get lost.
She would finally realize what a burden she had been to Ranger. He would open his arms and welcome her back with his warmest, most harming smile. Ranger would be out of her life. Forever. And everyone would be back to their rightful places. She would learn to be happy and contented. She would stop dreaming all those impossible dreams. They would settle down, get married, and start making kids. No, there was nothing to worry about. Yes, he would give Stephanie all the time she wanted. So he turned around and left the hospital. So he started wondering if he should pray for Ranger's death or recovery. Stephanie might be in love with Ranger. But she was not, and would never be, the right kind of woman a mercenary needed. Soon she would be rejected. Once again she would knock on his door and come back to him. She always come back to him. She always, always did. And maybe, just maybe, Ranger wouldn't make it. And she would have no choice but to return to him...
He started praying for his happiness on the drive home. He had never ever prayed so hard in his life before. He knew Ranger was the one who took Abruzzi's life. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Even the most nasty and heinous criminal deserved a fair trial. Maybe now was the time for Karma to catch up and make Ranger pay the price. He prayed and prayed and prayed. He waited and waited and waited. He wanted to go back to the hospital. He was too afraid to go back to the hospital. He wanted to make sure Stephanie was alright. He was too afraid to see the fear and love and pain in Stephanie's teary eyes. The little voice in his head sighed. He closed his eyes and covered his ears. He fed Bob and took him out for a walk. He ordered pizza and Chinese and washed the food down with beer. He turned on his TV. He watched the Yankees lose. He went upstairs to sleep. He woke up, took a shower and went to work. He didn't call Stephanie. He didn't ask anyone about Ranger. He ate his doughnuts and drank his coffee. He chased bad guys and brought them to justice. He went to his mother's to have went home and watched a late-night movie on cable. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and went to bed. His day ended and started again 7 hours later. He lived his life and said his prayers. But Stephanie didn't back and Ranger didn't die.
And now here he is. All alone in his nice cozy lovely 2-story house. He doesn't know what exactly happened. He just knows that Stephanie moved in with Ranger when he was finally discharged by the hospital. She never changes her phone number. But he's still too afraid to call her and ask her why. He knows why. He was there in the hospital waiting room when she cried. He was there by her side when she told Tank she would kill herself if Ranger died. And she didn't even look up at him. She didn't even hear his pleading voice. She treated him like he didn't exist.
Well, I told you. The little voice in his head whispers in his ears. She's in love with him. All she wants is him. All she needs is him. The two of you were nothing but fuck buddies. You never loved her enough. She never wanted your love. She had been in love with him for were never the one she truly wanted. He sinks onto the couch and says nothing. He's known all along he would not be the winner of the cat and mouse game. He was just too proud to admit it. He is just too proud to let go of Stephanie. He's not sure if he really loved her. He doesn't know if he still loves her. Maybe he's just afraid of loneliness. Maybe he just wants to be with someone safe and familiar. Maybe he never wants to be a father. Maybe he never wants to get married. Maybe he just wants to prove to the world that he has overcome the infamous Morelli Curse. Maybe he just...maybe he just...
He holds his head in his hands and stops thinking. He tries his best to ignore the hollow feeling within his chest. He closes his eyes and listens to Bob's even breathing. It's almost 5 in the afternoon. Somewhere down the quiet narrow street a little child start crying. If only you knew what you wanted. The little voice softly says. If only you knew what you wanted.
Chapter 5: Highway No 5
I love her. I really do.
I never meant to wave my arms and yell at her in public. I never meant to make her feel timid and small and stupid.
I just want her to be safe.
I just need her to be safe.
I just wish one day she will see to reason and embrace her true inner self.
I just wish one day she'll wake up and finally realize how childish and immature she is.
I just wish one day she will know her limits and come back to her rightful place.
She needs to grow up. She needs to be smart. She needs to stop being the Queen of Denial.
We are a match made in heaven. We will be happy together. We will both be contented and fulfilled.
We will have wonderful amazing kids. We will walk the dog and play in the yard. We will be surrounded by love.
We will be just like everyone else.
I will bring home bread and bacon. She will read a story to our children and make the world's best pasta.
I have faith in her. She's her mother's daughter.
She will learn to make the most perfect pot roast, gravy, pineapple upside-down cake, and mashed potatoes.
She will keep our lovely 2-story house tidy, cozy, and clean.
She will be the best wife ever.
She will be the best mom ever.
She will be my darling sweet fluffy airy Cupcake forever.
She will be.
She will.
She will let me love her and love me back.
She won't call me a hairy jerk.
She won't call me a selfish prick.
She won't hate me for cuffing her naked to her shower curtain rod. She won't mind I trashing her stuff.
She will forgive me for trying to slap her when they let me out of the meat truck.
She will know I had every reason in the world to be mad.
She will understand my frustration.
She will accept my shortcomings and flaws.
She will love me for not being perfect.
She will shrug her shoulder, kiss me on my lips and let bygone be bygone.
She won't tell me she resents me for all the things I did to her.
She won't tell me she hates herself for always letting me have my way with her.
She won't tell me she thinks we are not right for each other.
She won't tell me our relationship is sick and not healthy.
She won't tell me our history makes her feel cheap and easy.
She won't tell me she's just realized she doesn't love me.
She won't tell me she doesn't want me.
She won't tell me she doesn't need me.
She won't tell me I've never loved her.
She won't tell me I should've been the one to help her out, to save her butt, to bleed money and blood to keep her safe.
She won't tell me we are but friends with benefits.
She won't tell me there will be no future between us.
She won't tell me she can't spend the rest of her life with someone who doesn't love her for what she is.
She won't tell me she's in love with someone else. For years.
She won't tell me I know that someone else. For years.
She won't put my keys on the table and say, "Goodbye, Joe" as if nothing ever happened and we are nothing.
She won't stand up from the table and walk out of Pino's, her extra cheesy pizza, beer and meatball sub untounched.
She won't get in that tacky overpriced German car.
There won't be a loud flasy diamond ring on her slender hand.
People won't look at me like I am something escaped from Circus De Freaks.
And I won't be tasting my hot burning salty tears.
I won't be.
I won't.
I won't...
This is not happening.
This isn't real.
This has to be a dream.
A dream.
A dream.
A dream...
And I never believed when they said love will break your heart.
Chapter 6: Savvy Six
She
raises her gun and pulls the trigger. She has had enough. The bullet
races forward and penetrates the target. The smell of gunpowder spreads
in the air. Blood. And then death. Her friends widens their eyes and
stare. She takes a deep long breath and relaxes her shoulders. Yeah, she
killed him, out of a fit of simple rage. Of course it wasn't her fault.
He got what he deserved. She had warned and warned and warned him, but
her never ever listened. He never took her seriously. He only had
himself to blame. He shouldn't have thought of her as a joke. He should
have showed some respect for her profession. She is an independent grown
woman. She is not a plaything. She is not a sex tool. She is the one
and only rightful owner of her body. And when she says "No", it means
"No". She didn't appreciate the way he treated her in public. She's not a
hooker. She's not a sex slave. She is an educated modern woman living
in the 21st century. She deserves proper respect. It's not fun to be
molested at the age of 6. It's not romantic to hear the whole city
talking about how you lost your virginity and how soft and moist and
tight you were. It's actually humiliating and borderline creepy when the
man you thought you loved told you time and time again how the image of
you being cuffed naked to your shower curtain rod turned him on. This
is your life, not a pron movie. The history between you and the man you
thought you loved shouldn't left you scarred and traumatized. He should
have listened to her. He should have turned away and walked out of her
life. He should have respected and accepted her decision. He should have
said goodbye and wished her a happy life when she said for the 13th
time it was over between them. he shouldn't have taken that step
forward. He shouldn't have told her, "It ain't over till I say it's
over, Cupcake" in that cocky taunting tone. He shouldn't have reached
out his hairy hand and hooked a finger into the collar of her chic black
blouse and peeked at her breasts. He shouldn't have smirked and leaned
in to whisper in her ear, "The boys miss you, Cupcake". He was lucky she
chose to shoot him between his melted chocolate bedroom eyes instead of
chopping off his head with a machete.
Her weasel of a cousin sticks his head out of his office, sees the dead body on the floor, rolls his eyes, and says, "Geez". Connie rushes from behind her desk to lock the front door of the bonds office. Lula places a hand over her heart and says she needs 2 more dozens of fresh fried doughnuts. She calmly takes out her phone and speed-dials the familiar number. She lets out a sigh and nonchalantly(well, she tries as hard as she can) says, "Boston, we have a problem."
Chapter 2: Two Boxes Of Bullets
Two Boxes Of Bullets
He takes a step closer to the tall dark still silhouette, his movie star handsome face contorted. The contempt and resentment in his chocolate-colored eyes are as chill as the midnight autumn wind. "I have given you enough warnings. I have warned you to stay away from Stephanie. I have told you to stay out of my business. But you are just too stupid to listen, aren't you?" He narrows his eyes, balls his fists, and almost bares his teeth. He can feel the rush of adrenaline through his body. Yes, he's all too ready to close in for the kill, but he wants to take his time and prolong the suffering. He wants to tease and to torment his arrogant and unwelcome challenger. He wants to bring that crazy mercenary down to his knees. He wants to make the goddamn Cuban bastard to taste fear and admit defeat.
"You see, I have it all planned. All I have to is snap my fingers and you will be squashed like a bug." He grants the silent man a generous smile. He feels like a hunter on a safari aiming his gun at a rabid lion. He knows he's doing the whole fucking society a service. In no time at all the streets of Trenton will be safer. The ex-military thugs and ex-gangsters won't last long without their sly shady leader. And his on-and-off blue-eyed wild-haired girlfriend will crawl back to his bed and finally know her rightful place and learn her lesson.
"But I am a good decent man. And tonight, I am feeling generous." His smile grows into a smirk. A sense of victory swells up and swirls within his chest. He looks straight into those cold dark brown eyes and for the very first time feels no fear. Oh yes, he's got the upper hand. He's the one who's calling the shots here. And soon he will get what he wants and become the sole winner of this endless game. "Get your ass out of Trenton and don't ever come back. You've got 1 day to pack and leave. Keep your dirty paws to yourself and erase yourself from Stephanie's life. If I find out that you get in touch with Stephanie by any means, I'll—"
He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence. He might or might not feel the slicing burning pain in his head and chest as the 2 bullets shot through his heart and brain. He didn't even have time to widen his eyes. He just staggered backward, fell to the ground, and then died without a sound. He had been a bossy cocky police detective for too long. He had crossed a line that should never be crossed. He had been blinded by his anger, frustration, and desire. He had forged the evidence and planned to plant it on his cold-blooded, calculating, manipulating, invincible opponent.
And he had also forgotten who he was dealing with.
Several tall muscular men step out of the darkness and start cleaning up the scene. The calm silent tall dark handsome drops his gun in a bag and hands it to one of his men. He's not only their boss but also their brother and friend. They are all perfectly trained and expertly experienced. They leave no trace behind. They have been through Hell together. They have saved each other's sanity and live for countless times. They don't appreciate to be treated like trash or threatened. They happen to know just the perfect spot to dump a dead man. And yes, he will never be found.
Their leader's cell phone vibrates. He knows who's calling at this hour. He knows she gets lonely whenever he's late. He knows she just wants to hear his voice. He knows soon she'll hung up, let out a sigh, and bites her lip. He smiles and holds the phone to his ear.
"Babe," He softly says.
Chapter 3: Three Monkey Plams
Three Monkey Plams
Yes, he's dead.
He was killed by the woman he thought and still thinks he loves. The rage and pain in her stunning blue eyes disarmed him. The Gloak in her hands took him by surprise. He tried to blink. He tried to call her name. But he didn't need to ask her why. He'd killed the man they both knew she loved. He'd shot him from behind. He'd seen the tall dark muscular man fall to the cold hard ground before driving away from the crime scene in the pouring rain. He'd smelled the rusty scent of the warm Cuban blood. He remembers. He laughs. Oh yes, unlike his brother, he's pretty heartless and smart. A bullet the heart from behind the back. A perfect revenge. A most deserved payback. No one steals from him. No one. Whoever snatches his Cupcake away from him shall pay the price. He had it all planned out. He had the evidence all wiped out. He knows he has left no trace behind. How did Stephanie find out? He had just stepped out of his shower when she appeared in front of his eyes with that gun in her slightly shaking hands. He'd just killed her mentor, her friend, the love of her life. He'd planned to sit down on his couch, turn on his TV, drink his cold beer, chew his pizza, and watch a ball game to celebrate Ranger's death.
But his Stephanie, his Cupcake, his currently "off" girlfriend shot him through his heart and rained on his parade.
He lets out a sigh. The air suddenly turns cold. The sky suddenly turns dark. And an unseen formidable force grasps hold of him and starts pulling him downward. He tries to scream. He tries to yell. He feels cold and lonely. He feels the blinding pain. He feels the unbearable hurt. He feels the burning humiliation. He chokes on his murderous anger. It wasn't his fault. She shouldn't have left him. She shouldn't have gone to Ranger. She shouldn't have spent the night in Ranger's bed. She shouldn't have accepted Ranger's Halloween gift. She shouldn't have worn it around her white slender neck. She shouldn't have shown the whole damn world that fucking diamond and topaz Tiffany Key.
With an inaudible thud he drops from the sky and lands on the earth. He opens his eyes and immediately sees those familiar muscular men clad in black and the motionless body of a man at their feet. He recognizes his own hairy naked body. He starts to panic. He fears the coldness of the concrete. He fears the merciless sea. He tries to run but can not move. He tries to shout but makes no sound. He has no idea where he is. He doesn't know how much time has passed. He's flowing along with a river. He hears the silence coming from the barge. He senses the presence lurking under the murky water. He smells the scent of wilderness and death in the midnight air. He stares in terror as one by one, piece by piece, different parts of his body are thrown into the dangerous river and devoured by hungry greedy gators. He feels like he's watching a sick, twisted version of Peter Pan. He wants to laugh. He wants to scream. He wants to tell himself this isn't real. He's not dead. He's still alive. This is a dream. A terrible horrible most unpleasant dream. Stephanie will be by his side in his bed when he wakes up. She will smile at him and tell him she loves him and wants to marry him and bear him children. They will spend the rest of their lives together. They will be happily ever after. And Ranger will still be dead, dead, dead.
The very last piece of his chopped up torso falls inot the gaping waiting mouth of a cold-blooded gator. A bottomless hole appears out of thin air in the middle of the river. The irresistibly strong force pulls him toward the hole. No no no it wasn't his fault. He just wants to be happy. He just wants Stephanie. He just wants Ranger out of his way. He had it all planned. He has gotten rid of that unregistered gun on his way home. He's sure there's no witness. He didn't personally check but he knew Ranger was dead. He will appear on Stephanie's door step when her sorrow ebbs with his most charming smile, a bunch of red, red roses, and a shining diamond ring. He will make her forget her lost love in no time at all. He will make her let go of her memories and move on with him. Ranger is already dead. She is still alive. She is still young and beautiful. There's no reason for her to spend the rest of her life in loneliness and sadness. She will see to reason. Her mother will make her see to reason. They will get married. They will soon have babies. And she will forget everything, everything, about Ranger...
The invisible force drags him toward the hole. He tries to fight. He tries to resist. He tries to scream for help. The barge sails away. The gators submerge under the water. He falls into the hole. He keeps falling and falling and falling. The hole closes up and disappears. Everything is peaceful. Everything is quiet. The men in black remain silent. Thye know how to keep a secret. The gators go back to sleep. The frogs croak. The wind sighs. The stars blink. Miles and miles and miles away, a wild-haired blue-eyed woman says another prayer. The tall dark handsome man slowly wakes up in the hospital bed. The woman lets out a sob and calls his name. The nurses run. The doctors come. The man named Tank smiles a wide happy smile as his boss and best friend, Ranger, takes hold of Stephanie's hand and softly says:
"Babe,"
Their Happily Ever After has just begun.
Chapter 4: Four To Nothing
Four To Nothing
He thought he had time. He was not yet 35; he could wait a couple years to have kids. He would pop the question when she got older and ready to settle down. He knew for a fact that she knew her clock was ticking. Her mother had been applying more pressure. He wouldn't have to wait too long. She could get a wedding dress on Black Friday the year after next. It would be much cheaper. He would let her worry about the church, the wedding reception hall, the flower arrangement, and the guest list. He would see if he could lay his hands on Grandma Bella's antique wedding ring. He could use the his money on more worthwhile stuff such as a new TV or a new iMac. Yes, he had it all planned. Then one day out of the blue things suddenly changed.
Ranger got shot trying to protect her, and he almost died in her arms while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. It was all her fault. She was, as usual, being stubborn and careless. And her foolish mistake almost cost Ranger his life. She broke down and cried. She wouldn't talk to anyone. She wouldn't leave Ranger's side. She sat in the waiting room, shaking. She looked sorrowful and scared. She was covered in Ranger's blood. She didn't even look at him when he rushed to the hospital and tried to take her home. She didn't even respond to his voice when he called her "Cupcake", her favorite nickname. She just sat there grabbing hold of Tank's arm. As if he didn't exist. At that moment a little voice in his head told him he had lost the everlasting cat and mouse game. He knew it was telling the truth but still he refused to believe. He would give her some time, he decided.
Maybe Ranger would die. Maybe one of Ranger's other women would arrive. Maybe Ranger would wake up and get mad and and eventually tell her to quit her job and get lost.
She would finally realize what a burden she had been to Ranger. He would open his arms and welcome her back with his warmest, most harming smile. Ranger would be out of her life. Forever. And everyone would be back to their rightful places. She would learn to be happy and contented. She would stop dreaming all those impossible dreams. They would settle down, get married, and start making kids. No, there was nothing to worry about. Yes, he would give Stephanie all the time she wanted. So he turned around and left the hospital. So he started wondering if he should pray for Ranger's death or recovery. Stephanie might be in love with Ranger. But she was not, and would never be, the right kind of woman a mercenary needed. Soon she would be rejected. Once again she would knock on his door and come back to him. She always come back to him. She always, always did. And maybe, just maybe, Ranger wouldn't make it. And she would have no choice but to return to him...
He started praying for his happiness on the drive home. He had never ever prayed so hard in his life before. He knew Ranger was the one who took Abruzzi's life. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Even the most nasty and heinous criminal deserved a fair trial. Maybe now was the time for Karma to catch up and make Ranger pay the price. He prayed and prayed and prayed. He waited and waited and waited. He wanted to go back to the hospital. He was too afraid to go back to the hospital. He wanted to make sure Stephanie was alright. He was too afraid to see the fear and love and pain in Stephanie's teary eyes. The little voice in his head sighed. He closed his eyes and covered his ears. He fed Bob and took him out for a walk. He ordered pizza and Chinese and washed the food down with beer. He turned on his TV. He watched the Yankees lose. He went upstairs to sleep. He woke up, took a shower and went to work. He didn't call Stephanie. He didn't ask anyone about Ranger. He ate his doughnuts and drank his coffee. He chased bad guys and brought them to justice. He went to his mother's to have went home and watched a late-night movie on cable. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and went to bed. His day ended and started again 7 hours later. He lived his life and said his prayers. But Stephanie didn't back and Ranger didn't die.
And now here he is. All alone in his nice cozy lovely 2-story house. He doesn't know what exactly happened. He just knows that Stephanie moved in with Ranger when he was finally discharged by the hospital. She never changes her phone number. But he's still too afraid to call her and ask her why. He knows why. He was there in the hospital waiting room when she cried. He was there by her side when she told Tank she would kill herself if Ranger died. And she didn't even look up at him. She didn't even hear his pleading voice. She treated him like he didn't exist.
Well, I told you. The little voice in his head whispers in his ears. She's in love with him. All she wants is him. All she needs is him. The two of you were nothing but fuck buddies. You never loved her enough. She never wanted your love. She had been in love with him for were never the one she truly wanted. He sinks onto the couch and says nothing. He's known all along he would not be the winner of the cat and mouse game. He was just too proud to admit it. He is just too proud to let go of Stephanie. He's not sure if he really loved her. He doesn't know if he still loves her. Maybe he's just afraid of loneliness. Maybe he just wants to be with someone safe and familiar. Maybe he never wants to be a father. Maybe he never wants to get married. Maybe he just wants to prove to the world that he has overcome the infamous Morelli Curse. Maybe he just...maybe he just...
He holds his head in his hands and stops thinking. He tries his best to ignore the hollow feeling within his chest. He closes his eyes and listens to Bob's even breathing. It's almost 5 in the afternoon. Somewhere down the quiet narrow street a little child start crying. If only you knew what you wanted. The little voice softly says. If only you knew what you wanted.
Chapter 5: Highway No 5
Highway No. 5
I never meant to wave my arms and yell at her in public. I never meant to make her feel timid and small and stupid.
I just want her to be safe.
I just need her to be safe.
I just wish one day she will see to reason and embrace her true inner self.
I just wish one day she'll wake up and finally realize how childish and immature she is.
I just wish one day she will know her limits and come back to her rightful place.
She needs to grow up. She needs to be smart. She needs to stop being the Queen of Denial.
We are a match made in heaven. We will be happy together. We will both be contented and fulfilled.
We will have wonderful amazing kids. We will walk the dog and play in the yard. We will be surrounded by love.
We will be just like everyone else.
I will bring home bread and bacon. She will read a story to our children and make the world's best pasta.
I have faith in her. She's her mother's daughter.
She will learn to make the most perfect pot roast, gravy, pineapple upside-down cake, and mashed potatoes.
She will keep our lovely 2-story house tidy, cozy, and clean.
She will be the best wife ever.
She will be the best mom ever.
She will be my darling sweet fluffy airy Cupcake forever.
She will be.
She will.
She will let me love her and love me back.
She won't call me a hairy jerk.
She won't call me a selfish prick.
She won't hate me for cuffing her naked to her shower curtain rod. She won't mind I trashing her stuff.
She will forgive me for trying to slap her when they let me out of the meat truck.
She will know I had every reason in the world to be mad.
She will understand my frustration.
She will accept my shortcomings and flaws.
She will love me for not being perfect.
She will shrug her shoulder, kiss me on my lips and let bygone be bygone.
She won't tell me she resents me for all the things I did to her.
She won't tell me she hates herself for always letting me have my way with her.
She won't tell me she thinks we are not right for each other.
She won't tell me our relationship is sick and not healthy.
She won't tell me our history makes her feel cheap and easy.
She won't tell me she's just realized she doesn't love me.
She won't tell me she doesn't want me.
She won't tell me she doesn't need me.
She won't tell me I've never loved her.
She won't tell me I should've been the one to help her out, to save her butt, to bleed money and blood to keep her safe.
She won't tell me we are but friends with benefits.
She won't tell me there will be no future between us.
She won't tell me she can't spend the rest of her life with someone who doesn't love her for what she is.
She won't tell me she's in love with someone else. For years.
She won't tell me I know that someone else. For years.
She won't put my keys on the table and say, "Goodbye, Joe" as if nothing ever happened and we are nothing.
She won't stand up from the table and walk out of Pino's, her extra cheesy pizza, beer and meatball sub untounched.
She won't get in that tacky overpriced German car.
There won't be a loud flasy diamond ring on her slender hand.
People won't look at me like I am something escaped from Circus De Freaks.
And I won't be tasting my hot burning salty tears.
I won't be.
I won't.
I won't...
This is not happening.
This isn't real.
This has to be a dream.
A dream.
A dream.
A dream...
And I never believed when they said love will break your heart.
Chapter 6: Savvy Six
Savvy Six
Her weasel of a cousin sticks his head out of his office, sees the dead body on the floor, rolls his eyes, and says, "Geez". Connie rushes from behind her desk to lock the front door of the bonds office. Lula places a hand over her heart and says she needs 2 more dozens of fresh fried doughnuts. She calmly takes out her phone and speed-dials the familiar number. She lets out a sigh and nonchalantly(well, she tries as hard as she can) says, "Boston, we have a problem."
And the man she now knows she truly loves and wants to share a life with almost smiles. "Babe,"
Chapter 7: Seven Tears
Seven Tears
A slender woman unlocks his door and steps in his dark apartment. She kicks off her shoes, drops the bags in her hands and puts an old aquarium on his kitchen counter. She's wearing a cute little black tank top and a pair of old jeans. Her hair is wild and free. She has been crying. She doesn't bother to wipe away her melted mascara. She knows she looks like a panda. She is beyond caring. The diamond ring on her hand flashes as it catches a ray of light.
"Babe," He leans against his bedroom door frame and quietly says. "You can't run to me every time you have a fight with Morelli."
She bites her lower lip and refuses to look at him.
"You accepted his ring. You are going to get married in 5 weeks." His voice is as soft and calm as always.
She lowers her head. Another drop of tear rolls down her cheek.
"You said this is what you want. You want to settle down, start a family, and be happy." He walks up to her and cups her teary face in his gentle hands. "You said you want to be Mrs. Joe Morelli. You said you love him."
But she knows she was lying.
She didn't mean to give in. She didn't believe Friday night movie date could change anything. But all the pressure and frustration had been eating her, and the disappointment in her mother's eyes was too overwhelming. And somehow she really, really wanted to believe the "changed man" theory. Joe was a mean nasty boy but he isn't a bad man. Everybody has done something stupid. He has grown up and matured. He's now a different man. He yells because he cares. He just wants her to be safe. He loves her. He really does. He has a respectable job. He has a dog and a house. He's good-looking. He's Catholic. He's Italian. He's white. He's familiar. They are perfect for each other. What happened between she and Joe was special. He had had his eyes on her since they were both little kids because they are meant to be together. She needed to believe something. She didn't want to feel stupid. She was not defending her molester. She was not a victim of Stockholm Syndrome. And she never had the courage to step out of her comfort zone.
So she said yes the Friday night Joe proposed. She gave up her apartment and moved in that nice cozy 2-story house. They agreed that she will quit her job once she gets pregnant. Her mother broke down in happy tears. Everybody said they were happy for her. But nothing has ever changed. They still fight like a pair of pit bulls from time to time. And she has been using Ranger's apartment as her temporary shelter. This is her third trip here in the past 6 months. She can't blame Ranger for getting tired of her cliché.
"You have to make your final decision, Stephanie." Ranger's hands feel warm and rough against her skin. "This is not healthy." He kisses her on the top of her head and lets go of her. He opens the refrigerator for a bottle of water and drops several blueberries for Rex.
Stephanie stands there feeling lonely and cold. She looks down at the ring around her finger. It is loud and flashy and quite expensive. It makes all her friends "Ah" and "Wow". It keeps Bella from giving her the Eye. It keeps her mother off her back. It makes Joe smile his charming smile every time he takes hold of her hand. But she doesn't even like its style. She flat-out hates its design. And somehow she feels more and more like it's choking her. She wants to be happy. She wants to be free. She wants to climb on top of a highest mountain and shout at the top of her lungs. She just wants to love and be loved.
She turns around and looks at Ranger. She watches the ripple of his muscles as he drinks the water. She knows his broad shoulders. She knows his lean waist. She knows the smoothness of his flawless skin. She knows the touch of his perfect lips. She knows his silence. She knows his smile. She knows he loves her in his own way. And she misses him like Hell.
Ranger turns his attention to her and raises his brow a fraction. She looks straight into his eyes and sees the man that has always been there. If she leaves now. If she stays. Does she want a ring? Does she want love? Or does she want something else? She has to make her decision now. And there won't be turning back.
Stephanie's hand moves to her ring and stays there for a long, long while. Then very slowly she takes it off. Ranger stays where he is. She turns and walks into his dark bedroom. She heads for his clean spacious bathroom. She smells the familiar scent of his shower gel. She sees her brush, his razor and their toothbrushes. She still has clothes and shoes in his closet. Sometimes she will sleep on his side of the bed when she's in a particular mood. Sometimes she talks in her dreams but he never snores. She lowers her eyes and looks at the ring in her palm. She extends her arm and drops her engagement ring in the toilet. She reaches out a hand and flushes the toilet. She frowns a little as the ring disappears. She knows she's going to be in a hell of trouble. Blood is gonna flow. Heads are gonna roll. But what has been done can not be undone. And she feels so relieved and so happy and so free.
She turns off the light and walks out of the bathroom. Ranger is on his side of the bed. His eyes move to her hand but he doesn't say anything. She squares her shoulders and exhales the long held breath. She smiles a little bit awkwardly and finally bravely asks:
"Do you want to discuss rent?"
Stephanie Plum has made her final decision. She wants love, not a lie/ring.
Chapter 8: Silent Eight
Silent Eight
It rains all day and I become moody. I still care. I wish I can change. And I want to be happy. I look at myself in the mirror. I can't even smile. I know I am feeling lonely. I never catalog myself as a slut or a bitch. But from time to time I want to yell and pull at my hair and blame myself for everything. Yes, it was all my fault. I have made too many mistakes. I am too lazy to tell the difference. I am too chicken to change. I know I need to find myself a back bone. I know I need to grow a brain. I am too much like a stupid child. I am too stubborn to say "I can't" and "I am sorry". I just keep on lying. It's simple and much easier.I catch a glimpse of the sorrow in my eyes and it stares right back at me. Blank, and emotionless. Oh yeah, I am in denial. It's an old trick I master. I can always close my eyes and pretend. I can always fake. I can always put on my new cute little black dress and sexy boots. I can always put on my lip gloss and 2 layers of mascara. I can always tell impeccable lies. I am such a good actress that I don't even blink. But my heart knows the truth and it won't stop crying blood. I hate this weather. I hate this coldness. I hate myself for being such a coward. I hate myself for being a hypocrite. I hate hating myself. I am too tired to care. I just want to be loved. Is it too much to ask?
Tonight I have a date. Pizza. Movie. Beer. Familiar kinky sex. Just like Jersey Shore. For I am a Jersey girl. I know how to run my hand down a hairy chest. I know how to ignore garlic breath. I know when to close my eyes and tilt back my head. I know when to moan. I always have perfect timing. I try my best not to forget my pill. Sometimes I will also take a couple morning after pills just to be sure. I pull my hair back into a ponytail. I wish I know what I am doing. I am in a serious relationship and my mother is happy. For herself? Or for me?
I feel like laughing. I am such a phony. I am no better than the stupid women written by those untalented paperback romance writers. I am cheap and easy. I am familiar and convenient. I am no trouble at all. I have learned to give in. Children. House chores. Marriage. Ordinary. Average. Safe. Simple. Normal. Exchanging vows. Growing old together. Till the day I die. Bounty hunter from Hell. Wonder Woman my ass. A Burg house, after all. Just like my mom. Just like everyone else. Eat, drink, sleep, sex. And then die. I laugh out loud. I laugh so hard that I cry. I wipe away my tears. I wipe away my makeup. I blow my nose. I look at myself in the mirror. I look miserable. I look sad. I look like a 30-something confused woman. I am unhappy. I am lonely. My heart is bleeding. A part of my soul runs away screaming. My tears return. I will be late for my date.
I put on my new cute little black sexy dress. I put on my black sexy boots. I let my hair down. I grab my bag. I stand in the middle of my small living room. I have been living here for many years. This place is full of memories. Dark ones. Happy ones. Meaningless ones. Unforgettable ones. My crappy couch. My wobbly coffee table. My worn threadbare carpet. The things I want and the things I desire. The things I need and the things I don't have. My never-ending lies.
I lock my door. I start my car. I wait for the red light. I feel the evening air against my skin. I can drive all the way to New York. I can drive all the way to Philly. That's not where my heart is, but I don't feel like stopping. I am not young any more. The clock won't stop ticking. And I am afraid to be alone. I don't want to wake up one day and find I am old and lonely. I want to be happy. I want to have someone by my side. I want to have kids. I want to make sacrifices and all the necessary changes. I am just a woman. I have my dreams, my hopes, and my fears. I want my life to be something. I can't be a bounty hunter forever. I need something steady and more permanent. I need a shoulder to cry on. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to hold me in his arms and tell me everything's gonna be alright. I need to spend the rest of my life with someone I know and love and trust. I want to love him with all my heart. And I need him to love me back.
I take the turn. I stop the car. I square my shoulder and brace myself. I unlock his door. I close the door behind me. He looks up at me from the couch. The TV is not on. I take a long deep breath. He raises a brow. He doesn't smile. He knows I am not supposed to be here. He knows I have a date with another man. I blink twice. I tell myself not to bite my lips. I know I have to be brave. I am my own woman. I know what I need. I know whom I love. I don't want my life to be a blank. I don't want to have any regrets. It's okay if he doesn't want kids. But I want to be a part of his life. I walk toward him. I know he likes my dress. I know he likes my boots. I know my eyes are all puffy and swollen. I also know I am probably as pale as a zombie. I've got to take the chance.
"I need a date." I tell him as calmly as I can. My eyes never leave his. "And I love you."
He almost smiles. His eyes soften. "Babe,"
How can you love someone so deeply?
Chapter 9: 9 To 5
9 To 5
"Babe," He looks into her eyes and calmly says. "I need a date.""Okay." She widens her eyes and bravely says, her voice barely a whisper.
He knows what he needs.
She knows what she wants.
Joe Morelli is irrelevant.
Chapter 10: Ten Fire Dancers
Ten Fire Dancers
It
was a late Saturday night or an early Sunday morning. Everything was
cold and quiet. Icy rain kept falling from the darkness moonless sky.
The street was deserted. She sat inside the silent car, trying her best
not to fidget or squirm. She was anxious, and a little bit tired and
frightened. She sneaked another peek at the man besides her. He looked
as yummy and dangerous as ever. She let out a secret sigh. She wished he
could say something. Anything would do under this current circumstance,
as a matter of fact. She stifled a sudden yawn. She had a thousand
questions. But she wasn't sure if she would ever be ready for those
answers. She was afraid they might lead to a series of disappointments.
And that would definitely kill her. All of a sudden she thought of his
feet. He had well-shaped nice-looking feet, his toes lean and strong.
They looked good in anything: boots, loafers, sneakers, sandals and
socks. Her own feet, on the other hand, were too pale and too thin
compared to his. There was a tiny scar on the inside of his left ankle. A
souvenir from the war, he'd once told her. A roadside bomb had caused
the damage. A couple people had been killed that day and several
wounded. He still remembered the blazing sun, the hot merciless wind,
and, of course, the smell of burned human flesh and too much blood.
"Only the dead have seen the end of war, babe." His voice had been calm and soft, his eyes gentle and dark. And his
undetectable sadness had almost made her cry.
She lowered her eyes and bit her lip. Not 3 hours ago the other man in her life had gotten down on one knee and proposed with a diamond ring. It was moderately-priced and nothing fancy, but the smile in those melted chocolate eyes was warm and genuine. She had gaped and stared at that familiar handsome 5 o'clock shadowed face for 2 whole minutes before she'd jumped to her feet and fled the crowded pizzeria like a thief. She had caught a glance of an average nice future life, and she didn't like what she had seen. It was pretty, cozy, and tempting. It was many girls' dream. But it was not what she really wanted. She needed something and someone else. She'd turned off her phone and driven through the night with no specific destination in mind. She had no idea whatsoever where she was, but once again the man she truly loved had managed to find her. She knew he had been in the middle of something when he'd set out to track her down. She hated herself for always being his burden. But she couldn't stop wanting to cling to him for the rest of her life. She loved him too much. She didn't want to let go and watch him move on. She knew she was being selfish, but there was nothing she could do. Love is both a bliss and a curse. She just wanted to be a permanent part of his life no matter what.
Ranger started the engine of his brand new sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo S Cabriolet. Stephanie wondered if his invisible scar still hurt sometimes. Together they headed back to Trenton. The familiar Chevrolet Tahoe was parked in front of the RangeMan building. Joe Morelli stepped out his navy blue SUV. Stephanie winced and cringed a little at the sight of the unhappy 4th generation Italian American. Ranger pulled the Porsche to a stop.
"Do
you want to marry him, Stephanie?" His beautiful dark brown eyes looked
straight into Stephanie's soul. Without blinking she vigorously shook
her head. Her hair danced wildly around her face, her eyes as deep as
deep blue ocean. Ranger lowered the car window. Joe Morelli stayed where
he was and didn't walk over.
"She has made her choice, Morelli."
Chapter 11: The 11th Night
The 11th Night
They like each other. They tolerate each other. They have sex and make not so funny jokes. They drink beer, eat pizza, and watch TV. They sometimes talk about having kids and all kinds of boring things. But do they love each other? Are they in love with each other? They have doubts, but they never ask the Million Dollar Question. They are scared shitless of what they may find out. They both feel insecure and frustrated. They are both good liars and actors. They both wish they can stop longing for the persons they truly want but an not have. And sometimes they can't stand the sight of each other. They pick fights on purpose and break up from time to time. They get back together and pretend everything is peachy and fine from time to time. They are afraid to make commitment. They are not ready to make compromises and sacrifices. They are not willing to change. They feel trapped and lonely. But they just can't say no to their mothers.
Tonight they are both depressed and angered. He dreams of the cold-eyed curvy blonde every night. She wants to wake up every day in those Mocha Latte arms. He wants her to stop hanging around with her dangerous crazy mentor and get a safer job. She wants him to mind his own business and stop bossing her around. Things quickly get out of hand. But they are too angry and too upset to give a damn. They poke at old scars. They sneer and make cruel remarks. They are thirsty for blood and they bare their fangs. They have known each other for ages. They know how to make each other hurt. He lets out a bark of laugh and makes an extremely rude and improper comment. She glares at him with blazing eyes and slowly spits out the poisonous toxic forbidden words.
She wins.
Pain, regret, sorrow and humiliation tear through his heart. His mind becomes clouded and blank. He can hear his boiling blood thrashing through his veins. In a sudden fit of cold murderous rage he draws back his hand as if to slap her across the face. People around them stare in shock and gasp. She stands there looking at him with widened eyes. She doesn't have enough time to react. The resilience and defiance in her eyes help him catch himself in time. He lowers his hand. His anger ebbs. All those people are watching. He feels ashamed. He has thought he's not the same. He has thought he's stronger, braver, and smarter. He has thought he broke the family curse. He's not a mean drunk. He's not a nasty gambler. He's not a notorious cheater. He has never ever raised his hand to a woman. Until now. He has let his rage get the better of him. He is no different from his grandfather, father, uncles, cousins, and elder brother. He is this close to marry a woman he doesn't really love. He is about to move in to a world made of lies. He's too afraid to go to the woman he loves and confess his love. He doesn't want her family background to become an obstacle in his has great dreams. He is too ambitious. He keeps lying to himself and the rest of the world.
He is a Morelli man.
He opens his mouth trying to say he's sorry. Stephanie grabs her bag, turns around, and flees. He can hear people murmuring not exactly under their breath. He can feel people staring hard at him. He can feel his own face burning. He can see his mother frowning. He can feel his chest tightening. He feel tired and sorry for himself. He has unwittingly burned the bridge. There is no way Stephanie is coming back to him. Not after this. She has been beaten, threatened, kidnapped, and once tortured. It's not a national secret how she feels and thinks about violent men. He has shown the dark unpleasant hidden side of him. In public. He can still feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. He can still feel the the tempting, teasing, taunting sensation. He has tasted the power lying deep down within. And somehow it feels good and satisfying. He has awoken the beast. He has no idea if he will ever be able to coax it back to sleep. And now he is both frightened and excited.
Joe Morelli closes his eyes for a second to collect himself. He takes a long calming breath. He pays the check and walks out of the crowded pizzeria. He holds his head high and his back straight. He gets in his brand new Chevrolet Tahoe and starts the engine. He heads for his 2-story lovely cozy sweet silent empty house. He thinks of Bob, his goofy friendly playful dog. He thinks of Terry Gilman, the woman he loves and wants but can not have.
He's glad that this time Stephanie Plum is not coming back.
Chapter 12: 12 Tolls Of The Bell
12 Tolls Of The Bell
"It
wasn't my fault!" She shivers and angrily yells. Her voice breaks a
little as her tears threaten to fall. She's hungry and a bit shocked.
She feels angry, frightened, and cold. Why can't he understand? She
hates it when he yells make all kinds of false accusations. She was just
trying to do her job. She did nothing wrong.The choking smell of burning rubbers and metals fills the after midnight/early morning air. The narrow street is lit by the 2 burning cars. The sky is dark and the wind is chill. The few bystanders cast curious glances at the scene with widened eyes. One of the firefighters curses under his breath as he trips over something and almost falls. Somewhere not very far away, a dog starts to howl.
"It wasn't your fault? Jesus Christ, Cupcake! You almost got an innocent man killed!" His voice is filled with anger and frustration. His face is contorted with worry and rage. He's on the verge to puking out all the roasted turkey he's just ate. He's too old for this shit. "Did it ever occur to you that he has a wife and a little kid waiting for him at home? It's fucking New Year's Eve for God's sake! Why couldn't you just take a day off and give us a break, Stephanie? You are killing me here!"
His heart is still thumping in his ears. One day it's going to fail because of her. His hair has starts to turn grey. Hell, he has also started losing hair. He's running out of patience and courage. His stomach is now full of holes. He sometimes loses sleep and has nightmares. The unpleasant burning smell makes his eyes watery. The coldness makes his teeth sore. What has he done to deserve this? He is a decent hard-working man. He has good work ethics and impeccable reputation. All he wants is a little happiness. All he wants is a normal life. Surely he deserves some peace and quiet? So this is the price he has to pay? His punishment for loving a woman like her? Why does she have to be so difficult? Why does he have to care? Why can't he just let go and move on? Why can he just walk away and find someone else to love? Maybe they will both be happier that way, he sometimes thinks. But every time he looks into her blue eyes, whatever resolution he has simply melts away. He has unwittingly become a prisoner of love. He has fallen victim to her unique charm.
He rubs his face with both hands and lets out yet another frustrated sigh as he sees the resilience and defiance in her eyes. He braces himself for her irrational rage. He knows what is coming. Another one of their typical fights. In front of a small crowd. On New Year's Eve. Ain't that great? Just what he needs. He feels the familiar headache building behind his eyes. What he wants from her is simple and reasonable: Quit her job. Find new friends. Get rid of her commitment phobia. Stop fighting against herself and the world. Accept herself as who and what she is. Settle down. Move in with him. Pick a ring. Plan their wedding. Talk about future plans. Decide on the number of kids. He just wants her to be safe. He just wants her to be happy. He just want to stop her from hurting herself chasing impossible dreams. She's a grown woman now. She needs to stop being naïve. But has she ever listened to him? Suddenly he feels old and tired. Maybe it's time to pray for a miracle. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe she will finally listen. Maybe she will finally understand.
"Cupcake—" Joe Morelli opens his mouth to speak but is immediately interrupted by the chirp of Stephanie's cell phone. He suddenly notices the 2 sleek black SUVs that have been parked nearby. Tank, the huge black man-mountain, is talking to an uniformed officer. A somewhat familiar-looking muscular bald tattooed man is staring at him with cold blank eyes. Joe Morelli clenches his teeth. He already has enough problems on his hands, and the goons have to be here to complicate things. He feels his anger rising as his body tenses. He now scores a glorious 9.9 out of 10 on the upset scale.
Stephanie's face softens as she lowers her head to read the text message. "Babe," It says. Ranger's currently out of the country. But still he manages to keep track of her. A smile finds its way to her face. Now she doesn't feel so cold and so alone. A new year has arrived. Does she want to stay the same? Does she need to make some changes? Does she want to be happy? Does she want to love and be loved? Does she want to keep lying to herself? Does she want to keep letting irrelevant people write the story of her life? Does she have enough courage to grasp the chance? What exactly do you want in life, Stephanie Plum? She asks herself and holds the phone tight in both hands. She takes a not so deep breath and turns to face Morelli. She has things to say and questions to ask. She has a statement to make.
"Joe, why do you want to marry me?" She looks into the familiar dark lean handsome face and for the first time in her life sees the tired impatient lonely angry 30-something man beneath the face. She's not sure if she likes what she sees. "Do you want to wash my dishes and do my laundry? Do you want to dust my curtains and vacuum my carpet? Iron my bras and panties? Sew on the buttons? Put flowers in the vase every morning and cook me meals? I am nobody's maid. I am in need of a maid. I am who and what I am. I am not going to change for anyone's sake. To me marriage is a burden and a trap. I don't want to spend the rest of my life buried in house chores. I don't want to spend the rest of my life cleaning up after a dog, a husband, and a couple kids. I tried that once. It was awful. I paid a terrible price for that mistake. Maybe I am scarred for life. Maybe I have learned my lessons the hard way. Now I am happy to inform you: I am nobody's Cupcake. I am not your Cupcake. I am not my mother's Cupcake. I am done being a Cupcake. I'm not soft, moist, fluffy, sweet, or airy. I'm not cheap and easy. I'm not convenient and handy. I don't cook. I don't clean. I hate doing laundry and dishes. I don't do marriage and babies. I am who and what I want to be. I am just me. I like being me. Happy New Year, Joe. It's been fun, but now I'm done. Go find someone else who's willing to clean, to cook, to pop out babies and look after you. I'm in love with someone else. I've been in love with him for years. And I think you know who that someone is."
Joe Morelli stands there stunned. He feels dizzy. He feels unreal. His mind is a mess. He knows he, too, has a lot to say. He knows he needs to say something quick. He knows he needs to confess his unconditional love. He knows he needs to tell her that he can cook, he can clean, he doesn't mind doing laundry and dishes, and that he's most willing to take care of Bob and the babies. But he just stands there frozen, unable to make a sound, watching Stephanie turn around, walk away, get in Tank's SUV, and then disappear. Snow starts to fall. He just stands there, remaining where he is. A massive wave of loneliness washes over him.
A new year has begun.
