Page 5 of The Unbuttoned Ranger (Texas Heat: The Heart of a Texas Ranger #1)

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.

Although they 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.

Putting her phone down, she sifted through the watercolors Carsen had created for her while visiting Mark who always seemed to bring out her son ’ s artistic side.

Although her life here in Chicago wasn ’ t her dream, for now it was where she and her son needed to be.

She didn ’ t have the circle of friends she once had, but she had Mark and Albert who she trusted. And had peace…

She sipped on her tea, her mind traveling back to a time when she had little peace.

Dante had come into her life like a silent tsunami.

He ’ d been charming, kind, funny, and smart, and all her friends had loved him.

It had been impossible for her to ignore the attraction and soon they ’ d found themselves intertwined in a love story that could only be described as a fairytale. Yet, fairy tales weren’t real.

Six months into their relationship, she ’ d found out the biggest surprise of her life.

She was pregnant with Carsen. Dante ’ s first reaction had been one of worry and confusion.

He shut her out and wouldn ’ t talk to her for nearly a week.

One day he ’ d shown up at the restaurant with flowers and a ring, professing his love.

She forgave him and after a whirlwind ceremony with a handful of friends, they settled into a brownstone in New York where he worked in the narcotics division at the police department.

He came home stressed many evenings, but she ’ d learned that he needed time to unwind. His happiness had been important to her, so she gave him as much space as he needed.

However, after Carsen was born things changed. Having the responsibility of a newborn had seemed to weigh heavily on Dante. He started drinking more, working later, and their communication had dwindled.

And then one night…

Giving her head a little shake, she dismissed that particular memory. She didn ’ t like how it consumed her—or set her on edge.

Getting up, she rechecked the door and windows.

All locked. Then she went to peek in on Carsen again.

He hadn ’ t moved. He had his favorite stuffed animal tucked under one arm.

Leaving the door open a crack, she went back to the living room, turned off the light, and settled into the thin cushions of the couch.

The events of that afternoon had her anxious.

That afternoon, she thought she saw Dante standing across the street staring at the restaurant.

But she ’ d blinked and he, or whomever it was, was gone.

Overcome with fear, she ’ d called Mark at once to ask if Carsen was okay.

After speaking to him and getting the assurance that she needed, she ’ d chalked everything up to lack of sleep.

Sleep had become more of a luxury than a necessity these days.

She ’ d barely closed her eyes when she heard footsteps in the hallway outside of the apartment.

Over the last year she ’ d learned the footsteps of everyone who would have reason to be on the floor.

The neighbor to the right walked with a cane and shuffled her feet.

The neighbor to the left worked as a bike messenger and walked fast and with purpose.

These footsteps belonged to neither neighbor.

Then the knock came.

CaDee jumped off the couch so fast that her feet got tangled in the blanket, nearly sending her toppling over.

It was one-thirty in the morning. No one would be here this late.

Quietly, she tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole.

Her instincts screamed. Nausea rose in her. Dante was here, she knew she'd seen him, and he'd been watching. Fear battled with logic as she recalled the plan she'd prepared if he ever found her and Carsen.

She backed away from the door like it was a snake ready to bite.

“ Open the door, CaDee,” Dante said through the door. “ I want to see my son.”

His voice triggered her response.

She raced into the bedroom, grabbed the stack of clothing from the shelf and hurried to pull them on, and then the tennis shoes. Next, she grabbed the duffel bag from the closet, unzipped it and shuffled through the envelope of money and clothes.

Then she remembered her phone was still in the living room.

Retracing her steps, slower this time, she heard the doorknob turn. He was trying to get in. She knew all too well how skilled he was at picking locks.

Grabbing her phone, she wasted no time in shoving it into the zipper pocket of her shirt and going back into the bedroom to scoop her son up along with the blanket he was tangled up in.

He groaned and she whispered in his ear, “ Shh. It ’ s okay, my love.”

The pounding grew louder. Dante was losing his patience. He was drunk and didn ’ t care about waking the neighbors. His ego always led him to believe the rules didn ’ t apply to him. “ I know you ’ re in there, CaDee,” he slurred.

He ’ d be inside soon, that she had no doubt.

As quietly as possible as if Dante might hear, she opened the window and carefully climbed through onto the fire escape while holding Carsen close. The rain had started, and thunder vibrated the air. She took a step and slipped on the wet landing.

She ’ d meticulously planned the escape since they ’ d moved in. Gone over it at least a dozen times inside her head. She ’ d known this day would come. Knew he ’ d find her, and her son.

She balanced her son in one arm and the precious bag with all their belongings slung over the other shoulder.

If they were caught, she ’ d never manage to get away with Carsen again.

She ’ d never go back—couldn ’ t risk having her son in a toxic environment.

The sky opened and the rain came down hard, blurring her vision. The iron stairs wobbled and creaked, but she knew they were safe. She ’ d tested them repeatedly over the last two years.

With each step that took her closer to Mark and Albert ’ s apartment her anxiety grew.

Finally reaching the second level, she stopped to look up through the holes in the stairs. Still no sign of Dante. She couldn ’ t hear if he ’ d made it inside.

Knocking on Mark ’ s apartment window, she waited. Her chest rose and fell as she took each breath. Carsen was growing heavy in her arms.

She knocked harder.

She saw the bedroom light flick on.

Please, hurry!

Her heart raced. Carsen mumbled something. “ Shh, baby.” She pressed her hand against his head to comfort him.

Still no sign of Dante. She wasn ’ t sure why that bothered her more than seeing him.

The light came on and she saw Mark. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked dazed.

She pecked on the glass softly and waved frantically.

He hurried over and opened the window.

“ He ’ s here,” she whispered.

“ Come inside.” He burst out of sleep mode.

“ Take Carsen.” She handed over her son.

“ No, Mommy! Where ’ s Tommy? I don ’ t have him!” Carsen rubbed his eyes.

She felt her heart slip. The plush toy that had comforted him since he was a baby had been left behind. “ I ’ m sorry, Carsen.” She smoothed her hand over his damp curls.

“ I want Tommy!”

At four, how could she explain to him that she couldn ’ t go back.

Seeing his alligator tears fall down his cheeks, she knew what she had to do. He ’ d been through more than he should have. She met Mark ’ s concerned gaze. “ Get him inside. I ’ ll be back.”

“ CaDee? No. This isn ’ t a good idea.”

“ Take Carsen to the location. I ’ ll meet you there.” She retraced her steps up the fire escape and once she reached the open window, she peered through the shadows, listening to any sound.

Nothing.

Tommy was on the bed, less than twenty feet from the window.

Dredging up bravery she didn ’ t know she had, she slipped inside, taking each step with care. The apartment was quiet. Maybe Dante had given up.

But she knew without a doubt that wasn’t true. The Dante she knew never gave up, especially when he was drunk.

Grabbing Tommy, she stuffed it inside of her shirt and took backward steps toward the window, watching any shifts in the shadows. Her eyes played tricks on her.

Her back hit the window frame. She was almost there.

The hair on her neck rose.

She swung her leg through the window and heard, “ You ’ re forgetting something.”

She gasped when he gripped her wrist. Fighting against his hold, she managed to slide away from him and fell through the window, hitting the iron platform hard.

The fire escape shook and rattled. Before she could move, he made it partly through the window.

She felt the tug of his grip on the backpack.

Rain poured over her, her wet hair slung into her eyes as she battled against him.

The backpack slipped off her shoulders and she scrambled to her feet, but he was fast and strong.

His fingers wrapped around her ankle and pulled her feet out from under her.

She hit the iron again. CaDee clutched the rail, feeling the rusty metal cut into her skin, but she didn ’ t stop fighting.

His legs were still inside the window, otherwise he ’ d have her right where he wanted her.

She couldn ’ t allow him to overpower her.

Turning onto her back, she saw his expression lit by the security lamp in the parking lot.

He didn ’ t look like the Dante she once knew.

Evil had chased out any emotion within him.

If she didn ’ t get away, she ’ d be stuck in his clutches.

She ’ d worked too hard to build her life away from him to go down without the fight of her life.

She brought her foot up and hit him as hard as she could in the face. He howled in pain, engulfed by the booming thunder, and his grip loosened long enough so that she could free herself.

As if her life depended upon it, because it did, she soared down the stairs. She slipped and rolled down the last set, bouncing over the steps until she landed on the asphalt and her breath was knocked out of her.

Jumping to her feet, she ran toward the street hearing Dante ’ s bellowed threat, “ You can ’ t hide!”