The Ranger's Passionate Love

by Nicole Jordan

  “Hmm,” she said. “Let me see.” She let her hands wander over his jacket, tugging the zipper until the layers beneath it were exposed.

  “You can go straight where you're headed if you line it up with a tree,” she quoted, tugging up on her clothes to kiss along his belly just above his cock.

  “If a trail works in loops, it's harder to get lost,” she murmured, curving her kisses around to head back down toward his pants. He reached for her, running his hands along her thighs, trying to work upwards, but she swatted his hands away with a tsk.

  “Uh uh. If I get soaked, it could be very dangerous. Staying dry is staying alive.”

  Jason groaned as she pressed against his erection.

  She moved suddenly to straddle his lap, her hands looped behind his back as she stared into his eyes.

  “We should get in the sleeping bag,” she told him.

  He nodded, his mind clearly on the steps after that.

  She kissed him, once, with quiet passion.

  “After all,” she said. “Outside can freeze, but not your heart.”

  Then there was no speaking for a long, long time.

  Kyara hummed to herself as she bustled around the kitchen, expertly keeping four dishes going as once, even as she kept an eye on Crystal's work as well. The weeks had blurred together into months, but all happy ones.

  A bell dinged from the dining area, and Crystal swept over to check on it with the ease of long practice. She moved with the same vibrant energy Kyara did, despite it being the first day of her Christmas break.

  I was prepared for sulky teen. It's easy to forget that she's graduating in a few months. I wonder if she'll want to come work here full time? I could sure use her. I was worried business would slow down, either with the cold or when the novelty wore off, but we seem to be doing just fine.

  Kyara heard a small, “ummmmmmm” from the window. She spun, wondering what Crystal could be seeing to produce such a sound. Though snow hadn't stuck for more than a few days at a time, everyone had moved indoors lately, and the closer quarters were making people a little testier.

  Crystal was staring at the ticket as if she'd never seen one before.

  "Kyara," said Crystal, her voice full of curiosity and caution. "I think this one is for you."

  Kyara bustled over. Crystal handed her the ticket without a word.

  The ticket was not in the handwriting of any of the dining room staff. In large, blocky letters, the note read.

  "SOME OF MAMA'S FRIED CHICKEN, AND A HUG FROM MY SISTER."

  With a cry of surprise, Kyara rushed into the dining area.

  Two large, black men stood awkwardly in the center of the dining room.

  The older, Trip, had the build of a linebacker. His face was just starting to go round, but that couldn't hide his square jaw and high cheekbones. His suit fit him perfectly.

  The younger one, Marcus, was just a few inches shorter, but leaner, made of hard muscle. A thin pencil of a mustache, one he insisted made him look older, twitched above his tightly compressed mouth.

  While Trip seemed cool and collected, Marcus' eyes tried to take in the entire room at once, darting from white face to white face as if he expected them all to attack at any minute.

  Kyara stood, staring at them in total shock. They stared back. Then, without a word, Trip swept forward, catching her up in an enormous bear hug. Helplessly, Kyara submitted to her brother's embrace, shuddering a little under the impact when her other brother joined in as well.

  "Boys," she choked out eventually, "It's wonderful to see you, but I'm gonna need some air."

  Wordlessly, they placed her feet back on the floor without backing up.

  Kyara became aware of the overwhelming silence in the dining room. She smiled, by now completely used to how quietly nosy the whole little town was.

  That said, she decided, no sense in making more of a scene.

  "Well," she said at last. "I only have one order for the two of you. Sit down and order proper. And no bullying my staff. I've got a business to run here, and you two can just wait until after the dinner rush is over." She nodded, shooing them away with her hands just like their mother had always done. The giant men responded, Trip with an amused twist to his mouth, Marcus with a glare.

  Kyara whisked back into the kitchen, her mind reeling.

  It's wonderful to see them, but what are they doing here?

  More importantly, how did they find me?

  The dinner rush ended later than usual, more or less the whole town seeming to stop by to take the measure of the two strangers waiting, not entirely patiently, for the restaurant to close. Eventually, though, Kyara managed to get the kitchen shut down, Crystal promising to finish up the prep for tomorrow.

  Both eager and worried, Kyara swept out to meet her brothers.

  They sat in the corner, Trip reading a faded paperback, Marcus practically vibrating in his seat. Marcus jumped up the moment she appeared.

  “About time,” he barked.

  Kyara arched an eyebrow at him, doing her best to channel their mother.

  “Why don't you boys join me upstairs,” she said, trying to sound gracious. “I expect we all have a lot to say.”

  The two men followed her through the kitchen, barely fitting in the tight confines of the interior stairs up to her apartment.

  She let them in, quickly scanning to make sure she, or Jason, hadn't left any signs of their latest encounter.

  Last thing I need is to have to explain that one.

  “Come on inside,” she told her brothers. “It's not much to look at, but it's home. Not like I spend much time up here anyway.”

  That's it, she told herself. Keep control of the situation, just like Mama. These are naughty little boys intruding where they're not welcome. Don't let them make you feel bad. Kyara repeated the thought to herself again and again, trying to project it with every movement.

  “Now,” she said briskly. “What do you two think you're doing up here?”

  That's when things came off the rails.

  “What are we doing up here?” shouted Marcus, his voice filling the house. “What the hell are you doing here? Where the fuck have you been?”

  “Watch your tone with me,” snapped back Kyara, still trying to control the situation.

  “The hell I will,” yelled Marcus. “You disappear for nine months with no word, just gone, and you tell me to watch my tone. Bullshit, Kyara. Bullshit. You owe us an explanation.”

  “I don't owe you anything,” responded Kyara, hands on her hips.

  Trip's large hand reached out, gently tapping his brother. Even as Marcus shook off the hand, Trip spoke.

  “We worried you were dead, Kyara. We didn't know where you'd gone.”

  That stopped her short, all her righteous indignation fleeing at the thought of them, silently worrying over her.

  “I left a note,” she said, her voice far less certain now.

  “I have an opportunity to go start a new life. Please let me be. Love, Kyara,” quoted Trip from memory.

  “And you couldn't follow those directions?” responded Kyara, trying to regain her momentum.

  “Directions? That's barely a note,” started Marcus again, his patience clearly gone. “You just up and disappeared, no explanation, no warning, and you just want us to sit by and take it? What is that supposed to ...”

  Again, Trip interrupted.

  “Perhaps,” Trip said, his deep, powerful voice overriding his brother's harsher tones, “now that we're here, you might be willing to explain why you left.”

  Silence followed his statement. The air grew heavy, both brothers waiting for her to talk.

  Kyara broke first.

  “I had to. I had to get away.”

  Her brothers continued to look at her.

  “Because of Dad?” Marcus asked eventually.

  “Yes. No. Kind of,” said Kyara, sinking down into a chair across from her brothers. “I ...”

  Kyara took a deep breat
h, and started again.

  “You know how I spent so long talking to the police after it happened?”

  Both brothers nodded.

  “I ... I thought I knew whose car it was.”

  Both brothers froze.

  “And you didn't tell us?” asked Marcus, sounding equally hurt and outraged.

  “I tried to tell the cops, but they said it wasn't enough evidence. Not enough to get a warrant. I couldn't be sure, and there were no plates, just something I thought I saw. And then they came to me, the gang, and told me I better keep my mouth shut, or, or they'd kill you, too.”

  Marcus tried to speak again, but Kyara kept going.

  “And I knew you, what you'd do it you thought they were threatening me. I knew you'd just get yourself killed, and then I'd be responsible for getting you killed, too. So I made a plan and left. I came all the way up here and I didn't tell you where I was so they wouldn't think that you knew, either. To protect you.”

  Both brothers watched her, piecing together what her life must have been, what she'd given up, and why. Silence stretched as she watched her brothers' anger slowly fade into realization and concern.

  “Who was it?” asked Marcus at last. “I mean, we all know it was the gang, but how could you know who in particular?”

  Kyara shook her head.

  “Let it go,” she said, “It's still better if ... I don't want you getting hurt.”

  “Hey, I can take care of myself,” said Marcus, but Kyara shook her head.

  “It wasn't enough, OK? And you didn't see them, you didn't talk to them. They will kill you if they think you know.”

  “Which raises the question,” said Trip, always the deeper thinker, “why they didn't just kill you.”

  Kyara didn't answer, avoiding his eyes.

  “Yeah, see,” Marcus jumped on the thought, “they're full of empty threats. So tell me. Tell us. We have the right to know.”

  Kyara kept her mouth shut.

  “Goddamnit,” cursed Marcus, yelling again. “Just say it.”

  “That's enough, Marcus,” said Trip firmly.

  “No it isn't fucking enough,” yelled Marcus. “She needs to tell us. We deserve...”

  “I said, that's enough,” stated the huge elder brother, his deep voice getting louder for the first time all night. “You agreed to keep it in check if I let you come with me.”

  “That was before...” tried Marcus again, but Trip cut him off once more.

  “Before nothing,” stated Trip flatly. “Take a breath, or you can fly yourself home right now.”

  Marcus stood from the table abruptly, every inch of him protesting the constraints he was under. Without a word, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  I wonder what he'll do when he realizes he just stormed into the bathroom? Kyara had to wonder, too tired and worried to find much amusement in it. She let her eyes return to her older brother.

  “He agreed to keep it in check?” she asked tentatively.

  Trip shook his head.

  “He wanted to come up here with handcuffs and a sack and bring you back. We had to have a long talk before I agreed to pay for his plane ticket.”

  Kyara took that in.

  “I though his physical trainer job was paying well?” she asked, her exhausted mind flitting over insignificant details instead of returning to the real topic.

  “Not as well as being a lawyer,” pointed out Trip.

  “Oh, right,” said Kyara. The side-conversation dwindled away.

  “It was Devante, wasn't it?” Trip asked into the silence.

  Kyara's head jerked up, her mouth falling open.

  “How did you? How long have you known?” she asked, astonished.

  Trip shook his head.

  “I had my suspicions when you were going out. You just confirmed them, was all.”

  “And you didn't tell me?”

  Trip shrugged. “Wasn't any of my business. You made that clear when I looked into that boy you went with in high school.”

  Kyara sighed, collapsing into her chair.

  “I didn't even know until... until the shooting,” she confessed.

  Trip reached out and took her hand.

  “Not your fault,” he said.

  Kyara shook her head, her jaw clenched against unshed tear...

  “I should have known,” she said, her voice strangled.

  “Maybe,” allowed Trip, “but we all see what we want to see. Dad did most of all.” A choked sob escaped Kyara at this statement, but Trip continued. “Thing is, most of the time people lived up to what he saw. It made the world a better place. I don't think that he would have done things any different, even if he know how it'd turn out.”

  He's right, Kyara acknowledged to herself. Papa never would have let it change how he did things. Not like me. The thought made her ache.

  “I can't say what you should have done, Kyara, or what you could have done. But I know you. You never did any of it with bad intent. I know that. You trusted, just like Dad. I think, in the end, you got to forgive yourself for that.”

  Then he came around the table, hugging his sister in his arms, and said nothing more at all. And Kyara let him hold her as she just felt, really felt, the blame and loss which had followed her since the day her boyfriend had helped murder her father.

  A knock came at the outside door.

  She drew back from Trip, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. She wasn't sure how long she'd been crying. She was suddenly aware of her brother, still telling her it wasn't her fault and that he loved her.

  Marcus was still missing, though the sound of the shower going in the bathroom told her that he'd found something to do with himself.

  The knock at the door came again, more loudly this time. Kyara rose and went to the door, sure she looked like hell, but equally sure that, if someone was knocking on her door at this time of night, it must be important.

  When she swung it wide, it revealed her three friends, K, Caitlin, and Ashley, huddled together on her tiny landing, waiting impatiently for her response.

  “It's cold out,” announced K. “Mind if we come in?”

  Kyara stood to the side, a little bemused, as her friends filed in, rubbing their arms to get warm. They'd never even come upstairs before, never mind shown up as a group.

  They came to make sure I was alright, realized Kyara, and to make sure the boys aren't upsetting me. The thought filled her with a warm glow.

  Her brother was rising from the table, trying to look unimposing, but failing.

  All three women were eying him accusingly.

  Kyara let him hang for a moment of awkward silence before coming to his rescue.

  “Trip, these are my friends, Caitlin, Kaitlyn, and Ashley. Ladies, this is my brother, Trip. He and my brother Marcus stopped by for an unexpected visit,” said Kyara.

  “Ladies,” acknowledged Marcus, offering them each his hand in turn. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  Caitlin smiled a little, and Ashley accepted his hand, but K wasn't prepared to let him off the hook that easily.

  “Not polite to show up uninvited,” said K, ignoring the irony.

  Trip blinked at her.

  “Respectfully, Ma'am, I was invited,” he said.

  “Ma'am? Did you just call me Ma'am?” asked K, but Kyara had picked up on a different part of the statement.

  “Wait, what?” asked Kyara. “Invited? I didn't even know you knew where I was.” All three girls looked at her after this revelation, but Kyara's eyes were fixed on her brother.

  “We got an invitation from a young man named Mr. Waite. He's letting us stay at our apartment so we can come visit with you,” stated Trip.

  Silence fell on the apartment, all four women taking that in.

  “He... implied that he knew you well, and that seeing us would be good for you,” Trip further explained, his voice growing a little uncertain.

  That overbearing, controlling, know-it-all asshole. He had no r
ight... he...!

  “Did he?” responded Kyara, her voice flat.

  “Oh, shit,” punctuated K.

  The tension was broken by Marcus emerging from the bathroom wearing only a towel.