TEX

They agreed to work with us. Sure, Sergio wanted to put on a show about it being a trial, how he'll decide later, and yada-yada bullshit. Him and I both knew he was fucked. He didn't have any more men than the ones he'd called outside. We could have taken the ship. We could still take the ship.

But even though Fern was safely locked inside a private cabin only a few feet behind me, that fucker still had her. Because he gave her that cabin. All jovial and friendly. Making her smile. Making her laugh. Making her look at him with big eyes full of fucking wonder. If I tossed his ass off now, she'd hate me, and that mother fucker knew it. He rubbed it in my face with knowing glances and taunting grins.

But Sergio wasn't my issue at the moment. He said they needed an hour before they'd be ready to sail, and they were busy loading supplies onto the ship.

Had the situation been different, I'd have helped just to see what they had. My men would've helped pack faster. Instead, they were clustered across the deck in front of me, dagger-eyed and tight-jawed.

I'd fucked up plenty when I was young, but I'd been corrected. I'd been taught. Pop and Merle and Cecil. Big John and old Pete, God rest their souls. I hadn't fucked up once since Pop was killed. Yet, there I stood. For the first time since I'd taken over as Club President, I hadn't a leg to stand on. "I shouldn't have brought her." It was a lame fucking thing to say, but it was all I had. I'd do it again. I'd do it now. Hell, even in that moment, I was guarding her door more than I was addressing them. If any man so much as stepped in her direction, I'd snap his fucking neck.

The men were quiet for a moment, letting my words echo in the space between us, dormant, hollow.

Cecil snorted. "Was that all? Well, then, honest mistake." His lips pursed as if that were all he'd say. But nobody spoke because we all knew that was never the case. "I probably wouldn't have handed them the fucking guns," he continued. "But I'm just an old man. What the hell do I know?"

"Let the girl go," Reggie mimicked me in a high voice. He shook his head and glanced around before focusing on me, smile broad, eyes lit, pleased to have been proven right. "I don't know what the fuck happened to you, Tex, but that girl must have some wonderful pussy."

The men laughed, and I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood. We couldn't fight amongst ourselves, and it was the wrong time for Reggie to fuck with me, especially regarding Fern. But they had a right to be pissed. After what I'd just done, they had a right to say whatever the fuck they wanted.

"I fucked up." I gripped the back of my neck, but the tension wasn't there. It was everywhere, and the rest of my cigars were tucked away on Lucille. Son of a bitch. I needed one. I needed a drink. A whole goddamn bottle.

Merle huffed. "You know damn well not one of these men would have hesitated to take a bullet for that girl."

Cecil grunted, shaking his head as he flopped down to sit against the closest mast.

Merle ignored him. He looked around the men, daring them to disagree. They didn't. "Fern isn't the problem. She's the only goddamn reason any of us is alive!" His gaze met mine, just as scolding as it'd been when I was a boy. "The problem is the call you made. Anybody with half a brain would know that deal was stupid. You know it. You knew it right after you fucking said it, but you didn't think!" He poked his temple. "That's the problem. You haven't been thinking. You claim we need to take action, and I agree. But what you're doing isn't action. It's reaction. You're reacting." His jaw twitched. "You're jumping the gun and running headfirst through the densest shit anybody has ever experienced on this Earth, and it's fucking stupid, boy!"

The men grunted and muttered their agreement.

It was the truth, and having it shouted by Merle was too much like hearing it from Pop. It burned. It dug into old wounds with a salt covered blade, splitting me open, laying me bare for all to come and look their fill.

Merle exhaled heavily. "Jesus, boy. You ain't the first man to lose his mind over a woman. You won't be the last. But you need to get your shit together. Figure out whatever the fuck it is you want with that girl, then separate all that bullshit." He flung a hand toward Fern's cabin. "From this bullshit." He motioned around us.

"That's what I've been sayin'," Reggie groaned.

I blinked. That couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy. No objections rang up. No demands for me to relinquish my seat at the table. "Y'all are well within your right to call a vote." If our roles were reversed, I'd have already done it.

"Nobody wants a vote, Tex!" Reggie snapped. "We want you to pull your head out of your ass!" He gave a harsh laugh. "Now, please decide who's gonna take first watch on these Russian fuckers so the rest of us can get some sleep."

***

FERN

Tex asked me to stay inside with the door locked, and I agreed. Warbling voices echoed shapeless words that offered no clues as to what would happen next. Would they turn against him? I stared into the inky black of the windowless bedroom, imagining shapes where there were none. Despite having a bed to use for the first time in three years, I didn't lay down. I couldn't. I sat on the edge of the mattress, gripping the blanket on either side, waiting.

If it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have done it. Something had happened between us. At some point, survival became second. His survival was first, and his mistake tonight proved that he held me in the same regard.

The voices stopped, the silence deepened, and time froze as I floated in a void. No light. No sound. I thought about the people below. Had they been hiding like this? Clinging to life somewhere lifeless. They were too thin and so scared. I wanted to hunt. I wanted to build a fire and warm them, fill their bellies, and show the children how to shoot my bow so they would never feel helpless again.

A hard knock jolted me back to reality.

"It's me," Tex said.

My chest eased, but my stomach twisted. His presence let me know the men hadn't formed an angry mob, but that also meant it was time for us to talk about what happened, what I'd done, and the moment we'd shared when I thought I was going to die.

Another knock, softer this time, as if he thought I might be sleeping and didn't want to wake me.

"I'm coming." The words shook, and I took a couple of deep breaths before I stood and blindly crossed the room. If I were hunting, it would be a day without supper. I couldn't center myself. My hands trembled, fingers fumbled, and it took me several tries to get the lock open.

Moonlight blinded me as the door swung inward, and Tex stepped in and closed it before my vision had time to clear.

The room shrunk as he filled it; the inky black deepened. He didn't speak, and my other senses sharpened. Cigar and leather. Deep, even breaths. His warmth as he drifted closer.

I couldn't move, and I desperately wanted to see his face and know which Tex it belonged to. Instead, all I could imagine was how it'd been as we said our final goodbye. In the depths of his silence, I relived that moment, analyzing it in a way I hadn't been able to at the time.

Tex was so much more than just a man I'd met in the woods. We were more than two people making deals. We'd grown together like vines on a tree, intertwining more with each inch we climbed.

I didn't need to ask Mama. I didn't need Daddy or John or Julia or anyone else to explain it to me. It was there, in my gut. It was instinctive, and even if I'd been blind to it before, I wasn't now. Not after that. That moment combined every moment we'd spent together and blatantly rubbed the answer in my face. I couldn't see a thing, but things had never been clearer.

My chest swelled, eyes burned. "Tex?"

He exhaled. "Yeah, Darlin'?"

Our words were breaths, barely spoken. We were telling secrets in the dark. "I don't think we're just friends."

His fingers on my arm, light, then firm as they curled around and gently tugged me closer. "I don't think so, either." His other hand lifted to my cheek as he tilted my head back, my face up. Fingertips in my hair. Thumb on my lip.

My lungs rattled, body trembled. Legs that had carried me miles without rest were suddenly useless. My knees buckled. It was what he did to me, with just a touch. A smile. A laugh. It was what he'd been doing since the first day we met. He made me boneless, senseless, dizzy, light, desperate. "I think this is what love is."

His other arm circled my waist, hoisting me up as he took three long strides and pressed me against the wall. "I think you might be right." His mouth met mine, hot, demanding. It was nothing like the first kiss we shared. There was no sweetness. No soft. It was fire and passion and sin.

Everything about me curled. My toes. My fingers on his shoulders. My legs around his waist.

Tex groaned and kissed me harder as his hands travelled. One gripped the waistband of my jeans. The other slid under my shirt, up my belly, over my breast. He hummed and moved his mouth to my cheek, then my neck. "You're not wearing a bra."

My blush could incinerate. No one had ever touched me there, and the feel of his hand—massive, rough, and warm—stole my breath. "It broke a long time ago."

He hummed again, still kissing my neck, my jaw, the place just below my ear. "I made a decision."

"You did?" My back arched as he rolled my nipple between his fingers.

Tex let out a harsh breath and rocked his hips. "I did." His voice was deeper, rougher. "I've been trying, Darlin'. Trying to stay away, to protect you, to pretend. But I'm not a good man, and goddamnit, I want you." He took my mouth, kissed me hard, pinned me tighter to the wall. "Tell me to stop, and I'll try again later."

"Don't stop."