Vanessa was in his arms so fast that Tex didn’t have a moment to step back, making her miss her leap. When she planted a kiss on him, it surprised him—and, whether he liked it or not, part of him woke up and growled at the idea of Vanessa in his arms. She’d been a wildcat in bed, up for anything, and it had been a fun and exciting time, but in the end, she’d been wilder than him, and meaner than him, too. They’d started hooking up right after his second tour, before he’d even begun to dig himself out of the deep, dark hole that experience had left inside him. When he’d decided to go onto a “normal” life, he’d asked her to come along with him. But whatever made Vanessa tick, it needed the blood and the thunder in a way he didn’t. In a way he couldn’t. So he’d walked away from her. Which had infuriated her.

 

And now, she was here. Which was a huge fucking complication that he neither wanted, nor needed.

 

He made his brain override the reaction of his dick and put his hands on her hips to push her away. She took that as a signal he was enjoying himself, apparently, and wound herself even closer, digging her fingers into his scalp as she tried to deepen the kiss and ground her hips against his. He heard Jessie’s shoes rushing away, and he cursed at himself. He pushed harder at Vanessa, and managed to get free of her.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” For one moment, it didn’t matter that she was going to ruin everything; he had not wanted to be kissed, not like that, no matter how his body responded, and he felt a little sick in the aftermath.

 

“Hey, baby. I missed you, too,” she said, stepping into him again.

 

He shook his head, putting his hand out to stay her approach, but she didn’t seem to notice. “No,” he said, and she pouted. Her lower lip was deliciously bitable, and when he’d nipped at it during sex, she’d growled as she came. Dammit, you shit for brains, get her out of here and go fix things with your girl before they’re unfixable. “I didn’t miss you, Vanessa. What the hell are you doing in Castello?”

 

She crossed her arms and popped a hip, rolling her eyes. “Well clearly, I’m up here looking for you, dumbass. When I heard you were in fucking nowhere selling drugs, it was perfectly clear you’d given up on those circle-jerking grease monkeys and planned on getting back to real life. I came up here to…” She stepped in again, and Tex took another step back. She finally seemed to realize what he was doing, and the pout intensified. “…welcome you back. If you want to be welcomed.”

 

He racked his brain for an excuse that wasn’t going to make things worse. “Last I heard, you were with Gunner. Is he planning to welcome me back, as well?” His heart pounded, and he had to fight to keep his expression neutral. Vanessa could not know how much power she had over him in this moment, or everything was going to go to shit, and people would get hurt.

 

“I am with Gunner,” she said. “For now. He got promoted, you know.”

 

Tex did know—Gunner Masterson was the VP of the goddamn Racketeers—but it was better to act like he was clueless. After all, when he’d left LA, he’d left that life behind. Or at least, that was what people needed to believe. “I hadn’t heard. Shit.” He pushed his face to look disappointed, and Vanessa laughed, that wild cackle that used to turn him inside out.

 

“Gunning for the second-in-command spot, huh? Good old Tex. What’s up with that stupid new name, anyway? Finder? You’ve been a fixer since I’ve known you.”

 

“I’m done with killing, Nessa, I told you that. A long time ago. I can find all the shit that there is to be found, though; that skill set did not leave me.”

 

“And what about the girl?” Vanessa stepped into him again and, this time, he made himself hold steady.

 

God, he should have researched better; he should have known Gunner was in town, and had brought his girl with him. Goddamnit, he was a fucking moron. Blinded by pretty dark eyes. Shit. “It’s serious, Vanessa,” he said.

 

“We were serious once.”

 

“And then you left because I wanted the kind of life that might eventually lead to me having kids and a family.”

 

“That’s not what I wanted.”

 

He shook his head. “That’s your choice, and I respected it. I get it. But we’re walking different roads, Vanessa. And if you’re happy with Gunner, you should be happy with Gunner.” He paused long enough that he hoped it wouldn’t be incredibly obvious. “Did you tell him about us?”

 

“No, idiot. Obviously not. A fucking patch to the Racketeers can’t have been the leader of a rival club. Even if you’re not going to fuck me all over again—and I invite you to come visit if the townie doesn’t work out, Gunner wouldn’t mind the company—I’m not going to mess up your chances.” She grinned and ran a single finger down the front of Tex’s shirt. He fought off the shiver. “After all, my best chance of convincing you that leaving me was the stupidest thing you ever did is to get to spend time together again. Remind you how much fun we used to have.”

 

He gripped her hand, gently, and pushed it away from his shirt. “Thank you,” he said. “But please stop kissing me, okay? I’m serious about the girl. And I’m not a patch.”

 

Vanessa shrugged. “Not yet. But you’re trying to sell drugs to the club. It’s just a matter of time.” She stepped away and settled in the salon chair, crossing her legs as ostentatiously as Sharon Stone. Tex found himself incredibly glad for her skinny jeans, even as he kept his gaze pointedly focused on her forehead. “So, I’m here to find out what you can access and what you can offer.”

 

It was time to slip into the persona he’d sworn he’d never inhabit again. This is for Danny. He pushed himself into a grin. “Then step into my office.” He had no clue how he was going to get Jessie to forgive him, after what she’d just seen, but he had to remember that getting revenge was bigger than anything else. He’d made a blood oath that day, when Danny lay in the street, and he couldn’t walk away from that. Even if he could convince Jessie to love him, he’d be half a man. She deserved all of him, or none of him.

 

Vanessa smirked as she followed him down the little hall into the massage room. “Kinky,” she commented, and draped herself elegantly over the massage chair in the corner. Most of his customers, he’d found, preferred the table, but sometimes, the chair was just a better choice, so he liked having both options. She patted the tiny space next to her—he would have fit about one ass cheek onto the seat next to her—and he ignored her, sitting down on a stool.

 

“I have contacts in Canada,” he said. “Right now, I specialize in getting controlled meds across the border without the hassle of a prescription. It’s good for clients who don’t have sympathetic doctors, plus those whose health insurance still hasn’t caught on to the idea of affordable health care.”

 

She waited a moment, her eyebrows up. “Really? That’s what you have?”

 

He shrugged. “What’d you think was going to happen, you’d show up, and I’d flip the Racketeers enough horse and molly to keep them rolling in dough for the rest of their lives? I don’t deal with that shit, Vanessa—never have, never will. I don’t have the skill set to make it, and it’s deadly if you fuck it up.” He paused. “But I do know folks that make high quality stuff, really excellent highs, and I will introduce a rep from the Racketeers to the people I know. But it’s just an introduction. I won’t be a part of that crap.”

 

She shook her head. “Gunner won’t like it.”

 

“Gunner can suck my cock if he’s unhappy. I don’t remember him getting a pharmacist’s degree so he could practice chemistry in his basement.”

 

Vanessa chuckled. “I’ll let him know. He’ll probably want to meet, but there’s a chance he’s really not going to like this, baby. Like, violently not like it.”

 

“Just because I left the Sons doesn’t mean I forgot them,” Tex said, but he let a little quaver creep into his voice, like he didn’t believe what he was saying. “I don’t think they’d appreciate someone coming after me.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Tex,” she said, and his heart beat too fast for a minute. “The Sons are still down in Los Angeles, and even if they were up here, they wouldn’t give a rat’s ass what happens to someone who blew them off like you did. They wouldn’t cross the street to piss on you if you were on fire. They-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said, ducking his head like his bluff had been caught out. “You’ve made your point. You can shut up now. When’s the meet?”

 

“Give me your phone,” she said, holding out an imperious hand tipped with a geometric manicure. He handed it over, and she tapped in some details into a contact screen. For the photo, she lifted the phone up and took a selfie of herself, biting her lip in that pose that used to drive him wild. That still didn’t entirely leave him unaffected, no matter how much he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.

 

“Okay,” he said. “Now get out of here, so I can repair the damage you just did to my life.”

 

“You know we’re meant to be, right?” For a moment, her voice sounded so small, so much like a sad little girl, that it tore him inside out. He knew she wasn’t honestly a bad person; she’d had a hell of a life, and she needed therapy, and maybe meds, and someone who loved her. But he wasn’t that person. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t put in the work. But her kind of crazy and his kind of crazy—they fed off each other, driving the fires higher, instead of calming them down. He’d done shit with her that he wouldn’t have done in a warzone, and he’d laughed like a hyena at the after effects.

 

“No, Vanessa, we’re not,” he said, as gently as he could. “I loved you once, and I’ll care about you forever, but I left for a reason. Even if this thing with the Racketeers takes off, you and me, we’re just friends now. Associates.”

 

“If you patch, you’d be my brother.”

 

He had to laugh. “What, the Racketeers decide to join the 21st century and start patching ladies?”

 

She glowered, and he knew he’d said something incredibly wrong. He made himself smile.

 

“Anything else you need to say to me right now, Nessa?”

 

“No,” she said. The conversation wasn’t done, though. She was angry now. That last comment had been one push too far, and she was pissed. He was going to pay for that, later. Hopefully, not by her blowing his cover to Gunner.

 

“All right, then,” he said. He stood up and walked out of the small room. After a minute, she followed him. He walked her to the front door and held it open for her. She hesitated for a moment, and he wondered if she was going to try and kiss him again. He balanced lightly on his feet, ready to dodge. Maybe she read the movement, because she didn’t try to move in.

 

“Goodbye, Tex,” she said. “We’ll catch up soon.” There was a sad, soft layer to her voice. At a different point in his life, he would have melted, curled into her, begged her to forgive him for whatever he’d done that upset her. But he’d moved on. Not just from her, but from the man who had needed to do that.

 

She went through the door, and he didn’t wait for her to walk away before he flipped the latch and drew the shades. He’d heard Delilah’s office door close, and he turned back, ready to go beg, borrow, or steal his way inside to sort things out with Jessie before they got even worse.

 

Instead, however, she was standing in front of the office door, her arms crossed tightly over her belly. Not like she was angry, like she was holding back some intense emotion. There were streaks of tears running down her cheeks, leaving marks in the subtle makeup she wore. A surge of need rolled through him, driving him to hold her, clutch her to his chest and kiss her hair. But she looked too fragile, too afraid. If he squeezed too hard, he might put her pieces back together, or he might fall apart.

 

So he didn’t grab at her. He walked slowly across the room, his hands at his side and neutral. He kept his gaze on her face, but not specifically her eyes. That would be too intense right now, for both of them. “Hi,” he said, as soft and careful as he would have said it to a frightened animal. “What did she say to you?”