Title: Full Circle

Disclaimer: The Stephanie Plum series belongs to Janet Evanovich. No infringement is intended.

Summary: An attempt on Stephanie's life forces her to come to terms with her relationship with Ranger and ultimately leads her on a journey into his past, which becomes her imminently dangerous present.

Rating: T for now, will change to M for later chapters. Contains scenes of domestic violence.

Author's Note: This story was originally posted in March, 2011 and was later removed. This is a reposting of that story.

PROLOGUE

The evening air was sweltering, though it was hours after sunset. I could feel rivulets of sweat rolling down my back. It was hard to even breathe; the humidity was so thick in the air. Distantly, I could hear the relentless pounding of the waves on the sand. The sound was soothing and calmed me somewhat, as it always had.

I waited, though it was killing me by slow inches. One wrong move, and it would go wrong. So wrong. My eyes squeezed shut briefly as I thought of what the consequences would be, and for a moment, my heart seemed to stutter in protest. No. I couldn't think about that. I flexed my fingers, keeping the blood moving.

The lightest of movements, barely above a whisper in the darkness, and my eyes flew open. It was time.

CHAPTER 1

I stood in the cold, the icy wind biting right through my sodden clothes. My teeth started to chatter so I clenched my jaw tightly to make them stop. Sirens wailed in the distance and I listened with dismay as they gradually grew fainter. The sleet beat against my face, feeling like tiny pinpricks of ice against my skin. I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear them.

I could no longer feel my hands. The rope binding them had cut off the circulation and they'd long since gone numb. Glancing down, I saw the dark water swirling twenty feet below the short platform on which I was standing. To my eyes, the water seemed like it was hungry and just waiting for me. Bitterly, I thought of how I'd gotten in this situation.

I'd been on the tail of a skip, as usual. Darrin Tessler had been arrested for stalking and injuring his ex-girlfriend. And by injuring, I meant she no longer had a left arm. He'd been released on bail because they hadn't been able to conclusively prove that it hadn't been an accident.

Tessler was very smart and he had an odd hobby – booby traps, which probably explained how he'd hurt his ex. His cleverness combined with him being a sociopath made him much more dangerous than I had anticipated. He'd booby trapped his house so, when I entered looking for him, I'd been unceremoniously knocked unconscious. By what, I never discovered because when I woke, I was bound and gagged. He'd forced me at gunpoint to this pier and out onto the precipice where I now stood.

Tessler was long gone now and I know what you're thinking. If he was gone, why was I still standing in the freezing rain on a much too narrow piece of plywood above the freezing waters of the Delaware River? The answer is that Tessler thought it would be funny to leave one last trap before leaving town.

You see, on the other side of my little plank which rested on the safety of the pier was a large bucket of sand. The bucket had a hole in the bottom which allowed the sand to slowly seep out, falling through the cracks of the pier into the water below. The weight of that sand was what kept my end of the plank from dropping me into the depths. I could just walk up the plank, except Tessler had rigged me as well. A thin wire was tied to my belt loop, the other end of which was hooked to an explosive device affixed to the underside of the plank beneath my feet. If I so much as moved an inch forward, I could set it off. When the sand got low enough, the plank would drop in the water and render the explosive inoperable, but by then it wouldn't matter anyway. With my hands tied and my mouth gagged, I wouldn't stand a chance in the dark, angry depths of the river.

Honestly, I didn't know what to do and tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. It made me angry that I was just standing here, waiting to die. If I took a step forward, the end would be mercifully quick, but it didn't seem I had the guts to do that because my feet just wouldn't move.

I watched in morbid fascination as the sand continued its unhurried descent from the bucket. I'd lost track of how long I had stood, freezing in the rain and trying not to shiver. It was late and I wondered if Joe would be worried. Probably not. We'd been on the outs again and I'd moved what few things I'd had at his place back into mine a couple weeks ago. He wouldn't think to go looking for me – he wouldn't even know I was missing. No doubt he'd think I was shacking up with Ranger, since most our fights and subsequent breakup was because of him.

Ranger. My eyes leaked copious amount of fluid now but I told myself it was the sleet. Ranger was the Forbidden City, the Holy Land, a force of nature unto himself. And I've been in love with him for a long time. Maybe that's why I just couldn't make it work with Morelli. I loved Joe, too, but I lived and breathed for Ranger. Of course, Ranger had made it perfectly clear that any relationship with him beyond friend and colleague was a transient one. He didn't want to marry or even anything long-term. He was the poster child for men with Commitment Issues. Not that I could blame him, not really. His job was one that didn't invite confidants or lovers, much less a wife. Not that I would marry him. Not that he had asked.

I took out a memory, dusting it off in my mind and replaying it. The one and only time we had been together. I seldom allowed myself to think about it anymore, it just hurt too much. If I had known then how he'd take my heart and walk out the door with it, I don't know if I would have let him make love to me. But then again, my sense of self-preservation wasn't so great even at the best of moments.

I had tried to go on as usual, pretending something monumental hadn't shifted in our relationship. God knows he'd been able to. I'd pushed myself to try and make my relationship with Joe work out. But in the end, my heart wasn't in it. Joe had known I was in love with Ranger, though I had never admitted such a thing to a living soul. And now, I never would.

I was shivering violently now, but I couldn't bring myself to care. The sleet had turned to snow and I could feel it coating my head and shoulders. A few flakes landed on my eyelashes and I noticed absently that they gave everything I saw a smudged appearance. I didn't know how much longer I could remain standing. My feet were numb now as well. Looking back down at the water, it no longer seemed angry and turbulent. Now it was almost welcoming, like a large blanket waiting to envelope me and make the pain stop.

Because that's all I felt now. Pain. And not just physically. My chest felt like someone had driven a knife in it. All the regret for holding back, for not taking whatever Ranger would have offered me, beat at me in a never ending litany that would have brought me to my knees, if I could have still felt my knees.

If you're ever given the choice between a quick death or a prolonged one, may I offer you some advice? Take the quick way out. I didn't know which was worse – that Tessler had left me here to die or that he'd made sure I had plenty of time to contemplate my death before the event itself. Time to relive every mistake, regret every word unspoken and many that had been.

Tears were streaming down my face now, freezing almost instantly on my cheeks, and it felt like a mask of ice was forming over my skin. My hands had started to feel warmer and my shivering had stopped. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was so tired.

"Babe."

My lips curved in a small smile, the tender skin splitting as it stretched. Ranger. I could hear him. That was a nice way to end it. I could stand it if it was his voice that followed me into the dark water. I felt myself sway a little on my frozen feet.

"Stephanie!"

That tone made me open my eyes. It was strident and urgent, not the tender caress I'd been hoping for. Everything was blurry, as if my eyes had trouble focusing. I blinked slowly. Well, I meant to blink but my eyes wouldn't open again once they'd slid shut. I swayed again.

"Please, Babe. Look at me."

I had to obey. It was never a question, really, when Ranger said please. I'd probably jump off a cliff for him, so long as he asked nicely. With a monumental effort, I pried open my eyes. What I saw made me come fully awake from the cold-induced stupor into which I'd fallen.

Ranger stood a mere six feet from me, the toes of his boots just meeting the edge of the pier.

I drank in the sight of him. Dressed in his usual black, he'd discarded his coat and stood in his cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He'd removed his gun belt as well. The snow was settling softly on his shoulders and his dark hair, melting as it touched his skin. Well, of course it would. Not even snow would dare to mar the perfection that was Ranger.

"Give me your hand."

I looked down. He had a hand stretched toward me. I hadn't even noticed. I looked at it for a moment and my heart leapt. Unthinkingly, I tried to move my arm and was brought up short when I remembered I couldn't. Dragging my eyes up to his, I sadly shook my head a little, wishing I didn't have the gag in my mouth so I could talk to him. His hand slowly dropped back to his side.

"Your hands are tied, aren't they?" he asked but it wasn't really a question. He knew. I nodded. My head swam with the movement and I closed my eyes, swaying as the world tilted.

"Stephanie!" Ranger barked and my eyes flew open again. Our eyes met, and for the first time ever, I saw what looked like fear in his.

"Stay with me, Babe," he said. "Don't close your eyes. Just keep watching me, okay?"

That was an order I was happy to obey. Nothing was better than watching Ranger, except kissing him. God, I wished I could kiss him one more time. I wished I could just talk to him, tell him I loved him, was in love with him. That he meant everything to me and that yes, he'd ruined me for all other men. I tried to say all this with my eyes, but he was no longer looking at me. He was frantically looking around at the predicament I was in, trying, I knew, to find a way to get me out of it. As usual, Stephanie was in another scrape and had to be rescued. I wondered if he ever got tired of it.

"I'm going to get my truck," Ranger said. "I'll park it on top of the plank and so it'll hold both of us." I struggled to understand this, my mind moving sluggishly. He was going to walk out on the plank to get me.

"Babe." I focused on him. His dark eyes seemed to burn with intensity as he gazed at me. When he was sure he had my attention, he spoke again.

"Don't move," he commanded. "Promise me. Promise me you won't move."

I'd promise him anything, if he'd ever asked. Unfortunately, this was the only time he had. And I was going to have to lie. Because I knew he could never come out on this plank to get me. I knew something he didn't – there was a bomb underneath my feet. If he moved me to try and save me, the bomb would trigger.

The choice which had seemed so hard to make earlier was now an easy one. There was absolutely no way I was going to let Ranger be hurt, especially when I could prevent it. He was an amazing man, risking his own life over and over again, and so many times on my behalf. Tears leaked from my eyes again as I realized this was it, this was the last time I'd see Ranger. I searched his face, memorizing its contours, before returning my gaze to his. I tried to put all the love I felt there for him to see in my eyes. And maybe he saw it because his jaw tightened into steel bands and this time when he spoke, there was a note of desperation in his voice.

"Promise me, Babe."

Shakily, I nodded, anxious now for him to go, for this to be over and done. Once the decision had been made, the only thing left was the act itself.

He tore his gaze from mine and ran for his truck, parked a short way down the pier. I took one last look at his retreating form.

My eyes slipped close and I stepped backward into nothing but air.

RPOV

The explosion behind me stopped me in my tracks. I spun around in horror, only now realizing what Stephanie had been trying to tell me with her eyes. Goodbye.

Cursing, I ran back to the end of the pier. I skidded to a halt and frantically searched the water below, catching a glimpse of something in the swirling waves. I watched as it disappeared beneath the surface before tearing off my boots and diving headfirst into the churning river.

The icy water hit me like a fist in the gut. I ignored the pain, pulling myself through the water to where I'd last seen her. The current was strong and I could feel panic clawing at the edges of my mind. Steph had been nearly insensible with the cold, I knew there was no way she was going to last long in this water. Especially with her hands tied.

I broke through the surface, dragging a breath deep into my lungs, then dived back under the black water. I wouldn't, couldn't lose her.

The current pulled and pushed at me, like a living thing, fighting my efforts to reach Stephanie. Anger gave me strength and I focused my energy on cutting through the depths. I was forced to surface again for air and I gasped once before submerging again. Pain knifed through me as I thought of the time that had already passed.

The current shoved me aside and I bumped against something. My hand reached out and closed around cloth. With a desperate hope, I kicked toward the surface, pulling my burden along with me.

My head broke through the water and I pulled Stephanie's head up as well. The gag was still in her mouth and I roughly pulled it off. She didn't seem to be breathing.

I swam as quickly as I could for the shore, the current fighting me the whole way. I gritted my teeth in frustration, the seconds ticking painfully by.

I grappled for a handhold in the dirt that lined the river. With a last mighty effort, I heaved myself up, pulling Steph with me. I took a deep breath and started CPR. Her skin was like cold marble, her lips blue. I pressed my mouth to hers in a sick parody of a kiss, breathing into her. My hands moved to her sternum, making her heart beat.

I repeated the motions over and over, losing track of how many I had done. Desperation drove me but her stillness under my hands made a mockery of my efforts.

Then, miracle of miracles, she coughed. I sat up, panting, and watched in overwhelming relief as Stephanie coughed up more water. I gently turned her to the side so she wouldn't choke, and she threw up more water. I pulled the rope off her wrists, noting the deep red welts marking her skin. Fury filled me until I was shaking with the force of it. I would find the bastard that had done this to her and make him regret the day he was born.

When she seemed to have regained her breath, I pulled her limp form into my arms, holding her to my chest. It had almost happened. She'd nearly been taken from me. The sound of her breathing was a balm to my soul.

The icy wind cut through my clothes and I realized I had to get her out of the cold. I heaved myself to my feet and pulled her up into my arms. The climb up the riverbank was one of the longest in my life, the snow now falling with a vengeance, making the ground slick.

A few feet from the top, I saw Tank peering over the edge. When he saw me, he turned and gave a shout behind him. In mere moments, Tank and Lester were helping me up the slope. Lester tried to take Stephanie from me but I growled a warning and he retreated.

Someone had the back door open on a Rangeman SUV and I carefully placed Stephanie inside before climbing in after her. I settled her head on my lap, gratefully accepting the blankets that were handed to me.

"Knife," I barked out and one was placed in my hand. With quick, efficient movements, I sliced through her clothes, pulling the dripping wet garments off her and tossing them out the window. Tank slid behind the driver's seat and started the car, turning the heat up full blast. I wrapped Stephanie in the blankets. She had begun to shiver, which was a good thing. I wanted to hold her but knew my clothes would only make her wet again. I consoled myself with touching her hair, my fingers sliding through the tangled curls.

"What the fuck happened?" Tank asked from the front seat, glancing in the rearview mirror as he drove.

"Tessler had tied her up and left her at the end of the pier," I explained. "She was booby trapped. I turned my back for a second and heard an explosion. When I turned around, she was in the water."

"What set off the trap?"

It took me a moment to answer, forcing the words past the pain in my chest.

"She did."

"What?" Tank was incredulous. "What the fuck would she do that for?"

"I think...she was trying to save me." My voice was like gravel.

"Holy shit," Tank breathed. He didn't ask any more questions after that which was a good thing because I didn't have any more answers.

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, exhaustion overtaking me, though my hand remained in Stephanie's hair.