Chapter Twenty-Six
Bianca
Breaking our kiss feels like letting go of something I should hold on to forever. I part my lips from Tank’s, an act that takes every ounce of willpower left in my worn-out body. I blink, rub my eyes, and reality hits me hard: we’re not alone in the parking lot. Ricky is standing there, shifting on his feet, glancing at me and Tank with an expression like a man bracing for impact. He looks like he expects me to shut him down, like he’s waiting for a blow that could knock him flat. I wasn’t ready for this. A confrontation was the last thing on my mind when I agreed to help him, yet here we are.
"I want to see Vanessa," he says. His voice is steadier than I expected. It’s not the pleading or the anger I’ve often heard from him. It’s something else — more solid, like he’s already decided, whether or not I go along with it. This is not the same Ricky from just a few days ago.
I arch a brow, crossing my arms to keep my own emotions in check.
"And why should I let you?"
His jaw is clenched tight, but there’s something vulnerable in his eyes—something raw, something real. "Because I need her to know I’m trying to be better. I need her to know that I love her, that I always have, and I want to prove that I can be the man she deserves." His words tumble out, messy and desperate, but there’s a fierce sincerity in each one.
I blink. I wasn’t expecting that.
Less than a week ago, this man was a drugged-out disaster with a death wish, spiraling so fast I thought nothing could pull him back. Yet here he stands, clear-eyed and clean and asking for a second chance. I’ve seen him make progress — step by painful step — but never did I expect this. Not this soon. Not like this. Something warm flutters in my chest.
I glance at Tank, searching his face for a clue about what to do. But he says nothing — just watches me with that same steady, unreadable expression. Yet now I can see it, a flicker of something warm, something teasing in his steely eyes. It says, ‘Told you.’
I exhale, letting my arms drop to my sides, surrendering to these changes. "Alright," I say. "You can see her. But it has to be supervised. Alex will be with you both. You understand?"
Ricky’s shoulders sag with relief, a visible wave of it crashing over him. "Yeah. Of course. Thank you, Bianca."
I watch him hurry off toward the shelter, calling Alex’s name and not wasting a single moment. He really is different. I shake my head, amazed at it all, at him, at the possibility of redemption. None of it is what I expected. But isn’t that the way things always go? Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life throws you something you never saw coming. Redemptions, revelations, love, and everything in between.
Then I turn back to Tank.
Tank is watching me. Not just watching — studying me.
"What?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.
He tilts his head slightly, rubbing his beard. "Nothing. Just… didn’t expect that reaction from you."
I cross my arms again. "What reaction?"
"That you let your guard down. That, and that you didn’t knee him in the balls for even asking."
I roll my eyes. "I’m not a monster, you know."
"Didn’t say you were," he says, smirking. "Just didn’t expect you to give a guy like Ricky a second chance."
I sigh, looking toward the shelter. "Because I know what it’s like to be desperate for one."
Silence.
Then Tank steps closer, lowering his voice. "I was ready to take Victor apart tonight." I swallow hard. "But I didn’t," he continues. "Because that’s not what you would have wanted." I stare up at him, my throat tightening. "And what you want matters to me."
I don’t even think; I just reach for him, pull him down, and kiss him. It’s instinctive, the way my hands grab hold of him, that need to pull him as close as possible, as if being apart for even a second is unbearable. I want to dive headfirst into the warmth of him, the certainty, the space where nothing else exists but this crazy, terrifying, wonderful thing between us. His lips meet mine with a raw intensity that sends everything spinning, makes every bit of sense fall away.
He meets me halfway, his lips firm and warm, his beard rough against my skin. His hands find my waist, strong.
His touch is magnetic, drawing me ever closer, making me forget the air that surrounds us. I sink into him, let the moment take me. Let him take me.
And I surrender. To him. To every warm, scary impulse that pounds through my thundering heart.
When we break apart, his forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling.
"I don’t know what to do with you," I whisper.
He chuckles. "That makes two of us."
I exhale a soft laugh, shaking my head. "You’re the most surprising, kind-hearted, terrifying baker I’ve ever met."
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
I let my hands drift down his chest, feeling the solid strength beneath my fingertips. "I care about you," I say, voice barely above a whisper. "And that’s… hard for me."
His arms tighten around me. "Why?"
I lick my lips, hesitating. Weighing my thoughts. Weighing the truth. Words that flash through my mind, that scare me, that feel best left unsaid in this moment. How do I tell the man who I might love that the reason I’m hesitating is because I’ve spent my whole life running from men like him? But with him, I feel safe, and it scares the hell out of me.
Tank watches me carefully. His gaze never wavers, his eyes dark and intense. Almost like he sees right through me, as if there’s nothing I can hide. Like he sees every one of my fears, the things I keep locked away inside me, even the pieces I haven't yet learned to face.
"Where’d you just go?" he murmurs. "In your head?"
His question lingers. I meet his gaze, his searching eyes, and make my choice. It spills out of me, unstoppable. "I was thinking it’s time you and I go somewhere private."
His expression changes, a flicker of surprise in his steady, unwavering face. “Why’s that?” he asks, curiosity laced in his rough voice.
My resolve tightens like a coil ready to spring. "Because I love you and I want to show it."
His lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. He looks like he might say something, but I don’t give him the chance. I grab his shirt, pull him close, and kiss him again—deeper, harder, pouring everything into it. All the heat and need that’s been simmering between us for days, all the emotions that I’ve kept hidden behind fear. His hands find their way to my hips, drawing me flush against him. The warmth of his body is so familiar now, so consuming, like a fire we can’t control. His lips leave mine and meet my ear.
“I love you, too.”
His words are enough to set me spinning, enough to make my heart pound. They’re words I’ve feared, words I’ve craved, and now that I have them, they burn through me like wildfire.
I breathe them in, as if they could sustain me, as if they could take away all the fear and doubt. "I love you and I need you. Now."
I know, in that moment, without a doubt, that I just crossed a line I can never come back from.