Page 8 of The Unbuttoned Ranger
“I say we wait and see.”
“You and I both know they don’t give a shit about the team.”
“Most of them probably not. But I trust Delta. He’s on to something that he can’t reveal yet.” Sharp then approached the more sensitive subject.“Think you can stop giving the nurses a rough time?”
Echo growled.“I don’t need to be treated like a toddler. I’m also not going to have a woman old enough to be my mom rubbing my dick. I can take care of that job myself.”
“You are taking some good pain meds, aren’t you?” Sharp laughed.
“There’s nothing wrong with a man not wanting to be bathed,” he huffed.
“What’s the problem?” What Sharp knew about Echo was that he never turned down a woman’s touch.
“It’s been a while, if you get my drift. If one of them touches me near the jewels I’m afraid it’ll turn into a shooting contest. I’ve never been into hitting an innocent bystander if you catch my drift” He sat back in bed, squinting.“Bad enough that when they change my bandages they rub up against me. The pain meds are making me loopy and horny.”
“Then bathe your swamp ass, wear something to cover yourself, and be nice so they’ll release you.”
“Can we change the subject?”
“Fine with me.”
Echo flipped on the TV and scrolled the stations, mainly for background noise.“So, you’re really going to disappear for a bit?”
Sharp nodded.“That’s the plan. Something tells me if the shooters wanted us dead, we would be. At least one of those bullets would have done the job.”
“A warning then?”
“I think so.”
“Any thoughts?”
“I need to think on it a bit.” Sharp stood.“We’ll stay in touch. In the meantime, be good.”
“I’m always good, at least that’s what she said.” He laughed.
A nurse popped in with a tray of supplies.“Looks like someone’s mood has changed. You going to let me draw these labs?”
“I’ll behave, if you think you can handle it.” Echo spread his arms open wide.
“He’s all yours,” Sharp said as he left the room. Good to see his buddy still had a sense of humor.
Chapter Four
CaDee Lang soaked in the tub, relishing the alone time that she barely got. Her four-year old son, Carsen, kept her busy when she wasn’t pulling a twelve-hour shift at the diner.
After her earlier shift, then coming home and reading her son two books and having a long conversation about safari animals before he finally dozed off, she needed a moment to herself. Her feet were killing her. The day had been a doozy. She’d spilled coffee on one customer, served the wrong order to three, and nearly fell and broke her neck on water puddled on the floor. She was too young to feel so old.
She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle music playing from her phone’s speaker. She stayed in that position until she turned into a prune. Using her big toe to push the drain open, she stood and dried off. Pulling on her robe, she stepped down the hallway, peeked in on Carsen, who was sleeping soundly, and she continued into the small kitchen.
While she waited for the water to heat for a cup of tea, she tapped in a quick message to her best friend, and neighbor, Mark…
“Thanks again for watching Carsen today because the sitter was sick. He always enjoys his time hanging out with you.”
Since moving to Chicago from New York, Mark and his partner, Albert, had taken CaDee and Carsen under their wings. She’d met Mark years ago when he lived in Chicago. Althoughthey hadn’t hit it off as a couple, for obvious reasons, they stayed close friends. He’d always been the one she could count on, even after she’d married and divorced—although her ex-husband had never known Mark existed, which was a silver lining.
Taking her cup of tea with her, she checked the locks on the door and all the living room windows before she settled down onto the couch, which also served as her bed. The lumpy thrift store find had seen better days.
She picked up her phone and searched social media, seeing her old life, the one where she’d had friends and worked in a five-star restaurant as a manager. She looked at their sea of smiling faces across the screen as their lives unfolded. CaDee found herself smiling, remembering the good days, before everything irrevocably changed.
