Nine Point Five: Stuck in the Middle

I work for my cousin, Vinnie Plum who posts bail for criminals and I was having a shocking day.  A few years ago, I bullied Vinnie into giving me the job and now, I get ten percent of the bail if I manage to bring in the skip.  I usually have to call on Ranger, my mentor for help.

I was after this guy named Nigel Taylor who was wanted for skipping his hearing.  The guy was an accessory to armed robbery and murder.  I spent all day watching his and his house.  Then, when I went for a bathroom break, he left.  I managed to catch up to him at the main intersection, but somehow I got a flat and he got away.  My theory: it was the skip I was supposed to capture.

That wasn't the worst of it.  My rent was overdue.  The only food I had in my apartment was a box of Fruit Loops and a few bottles of beer.  It had been about three weeks since I had made an apprehension.

So, I was back to the office.  I pushed open the door and, my day suddenly looked a bit better.  Connie, had donuts on her desk.  Connie works for Vinnie.  She's the office chick.  She's one of the few women who will take the garbage his dishes out.

I grabbed a donut and sat on the desk next to Connie.

"Where's Lula?"  Lula's an ex-hooker, now filer for Vinnie. 

"Gone to get lunch."

We had donuts.  What else did we need?

"Are there ­any­ easy FTAs?  I'm desperate, Connie.  Beer and cereal are now the two main food groups.  I'm hopeless."  FTA is our jargon for failure to appear. 

Connie didn't say anything.  She wasn't exactly jumping in to save me from wallowing in my world of self-pity.

The door to Vinnie's office swung open and Ranger stepped out.  He paused in the doorway and told Vinnie he'd get Jeanne Ellen to look in on it.

Jeanne Ellen Burrows was a bounty hunter.  She was a female Ranger who also wore all black. She and Ranger had a history.  I didn't know the details.  I don't think I really wanted to know, either.

"Yo," Ranger said when he saw me.  That was his standard greeting.

Ranger's real name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso.  He's second generation Cuban-American and he's exactly as his name sounds – hot.

"Yo, yourself," I said deadpan.

"What's up, Babe?"  He stood in front on me, our knees touching.

I had cut a deal with Ranger that if he helped me, I would spend the night with him.  I asked for his help.  Since that night, our relationship has been different.

"I need help." 

I heard Vinnie go into a coughing fit in his office.

"Could we talk about this elsewhere?"

Ranger led the way past his black Bronco.  He always used his Bronco when he was picking up a skip.  That was just another thing that I didn't have – a serious car.

Ranger silently walked to the deli near the office.  He ordered something healthy on healthy bread.  I ordered a pastrami sandwich.  We sat down in the back corner and ate our lunch.  He was waiting for me to start, but I didn't really want to.

"Babe?"

"I can't always rely on dumb luck.  I need to improve," I started rambling.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"I'm serious about this."

We didn't talk until we were back at the office, which really was only about one minute.

"I'll see you at six at the gym.  I don't want to give you too much time to change your mind."

I arrived at the gym ten minutes early.  I was dressed in my usual running outfit.  Ranger was waiting for me at the door.  He led the way, nodding to a few of the guys who he obviously knew.

He was leading me to a boxing ring.  I just wanted to run back to my car and hide in my bathroom.  There was no way I would even be able to hit Ranger in a fight.

"Stress less, Babe," he said as he stepped through the ropes.

He donned hand pads and told me to punch him.  First a jab and then a cross.

"You punch like a girl," he said after he straightened my wrists.

"I am a girl!"

"Hit me like you mean it, Steph."

"I don't want to hurt you."  This really meant, 'I don't want to punch you.  I don't want to punch anyone.  Hell, I don't want to be here!'

He gave me the you can't hurt me look.  Which was true, considering he was Batman.  So I hit him.  Now I know why he kept fixing my wrists.  If you punch with a bent wrist, you sprain it.  Which is exactly what I did.

Ranger tried to hold back a sigh, but failed.  "Lie down."

I looked at him.  I looked down at the floor.  I looked back at him and decided it would be best to do as he said.  I was waiting for him to tell me to do a hundred sit-ups.   Instead, he straddled my waist.

I bit my lip.  Surely he wasn't planning on doing anything here.  We were in a gym for crying out loud.

"Alright, focus."  He must have seen the lusty look in my eyes.  "I want you to imagine I'm one of the insane skips you have a remarkable ability to get stuck with.  I plan to kill you.  But, before I do, I'm going to rape you."  He paused while he let the details sink in.  "What are you going to do about it?"

None of the words registered.  All I could think about was that night we spent together and sex in general.  Eventually, my brain kicked in.  He wasn't talking about sex.  He was talking about self-defence.  This would have been nice thing to know when Rameriz was after me.

I pushed (half heartedly) against his chest.

"Won't work," he said as he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head.

My brain stopped working.  I was lying on the floor with a gorgeous guy on top of me, with my hands pinned over me head.  Why would I want to get out of this?

"You can do this, Babe.  I've seen you get out of a situation like this before."  He was really enjoying this.  I just wasn't sure what he was enjoying.

There was no way I could flip him while he had my hands pinned.  Ranger taught me to apply pressure in the right place, and eventually, they'll cave in.  I didn't know what Ranger's pressure point was.  But, I figured if he were a rapist, it would be easy to find.

Mentally crossing my fingers, I kissed him.  A soft, teasing kiss, which I hoped would drive him insane.  Or at least distract him.  I think he knew what I was up to, but he went along with it and allowed me to reverse our positions.

He pulled away from the kiss and smiled at me.  "Babe, the point is to buy yourself time to get away.  Not screw your attacker."

At least he had some self-control.  I really didn't want to get it on with Ranger in the middle of a gym.  Maybe I did.  Just a little bit.

I woke up the next day with sore muscles and wrist.  Ranger had set up a whole exercise program.  Fortunately, I only had to go running four times a week.

I spent most of the day in front of Taylor's house.  At five o'clock, I left and headed for the shooting gallery.

One of Ranger's big things was getting used to my gun.  He didn't care that I hated the bloody thing.  I was surprised that even after my display of lust that the gym, he was still willing to continue the training.  Perhaps my dreams to become Wonder Woman would come true after all.

The plan was every Tuesday and Thursday at five-thirty we'd meet at the gallery and shoot at a piece of cardboard with numbers on it.

Now, normally I limit myself to three cups of coffee a day.  But since I decided to do an all nighter after the incident in the gym I'd had twice that.  So, I was a little jumpy.  I kept missing the target.  My stance was wrong.  I couldn't control the recoil.

I've read enough romance novels to recognise a plot device when I see one.  You just think, 'this is so predictable'.  The guy stands behind the girl, their bodies pressed together and he helps her shoot.  When you're in the position, all thoughts of cliché storylines are non-existent. 

After a couple of attempts, I managed to get the bullseye.  I let out a squeal of delight and spun around to give Ranger a victory smile.  I did, however, managed to squash the urge to do a victory dance.

Morelli was standing behind him.  He didn't look happy.