No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1) (16 page)

 

Cash winced when he took the turn into the apartment complex too sharp and Colt’s head banged into the window. He glanced over to find his brother scowling at him. Considering the blood that had dried beneath his nose and the busted lip he was sporting, Colt didn’t need to take any more hits tonight.

“Sorry.”

“Just get us home in one piece would ya?”

“Almost there.”

Colt was silent so Cash didn’t apologize again. It wouldn’t matter if he did. All he would earn in return was a snort at best and a cursing at worst. Colt hated it when he apologized for anything, particularly when it came to dealing with Decker.

They both knew that he only dealt with their father because Cash did. He would have cut him out of his life long ago if only Cash would do the same. But Cash wouldn’t, couldn’t, and so Colt was forced time and again to be part of the rescue squad when the Sherriff called saying Decker needed a ride home.

He owed his brother. Cash knew that. He had stepped in for him time and again when they were kids. He still did. If it wasn’t for Colt, he never would have been able to free himself from the criminal life the rest of their family lived. Colt was the one that had given him a chance at something better. If he couldn’t force himself to walk away from their parents once and for all for himself, he should have been able to do it for Colt.

Colt needed distance from them to survive. He couldn’t face them or what they’d done to them. Either of them. Not the mother that had all but abandoned them for her drugs and not the father that denied them and hated every breath they took. He couldn’t look at them and see anything but pain and destruction. Neither could Cash but whereas his brother chose to deal with it by not dealing with it, he had never been able to go that route.

Everyone assumed Colt was the fighter of the two of them. He was slightly bigger. He’d been born slightly earlier. He was the one that stepped up and took the first punch or delivered it depending on the fight. He was the first to stand up to draw attention to himself, good or bad. But the truth that nobody could see was that Colt was far more sensitive about their family than Cash was.

Maybe he hid it better. Maybe it was just that he never let anyone else close to him. But nobody saw through Colt but him.

He felt everything, intensely. If he was happy, he wore it square on his face. If he was angry, you were going to hear about it. And he could switch from one to the other at whiplash speed. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the reasons behind those changes but Cash did because he’d been seeing it all his life.

Colt’s moods always came down to whether or not he had to deal with their family at any given time.

If it were up to him, Cash would deal with Decker alone just as he dealt with Chrissy, but Colt refused to let him. He insisted on being included whenever the calls came in about Decker. The one or two times Cash had tried to deal with their father alone, he’d come home to find Colt in even worse shape than he usually was after a fight with their old man. For the entirety of their childhood they had survived because they were a team. Two against one were better odds. Colt wasn’t risking Cash’s life now by leveling it to one-on-one even if Cash would have preferred it that way.

So the calls continued to come. They continued to drag Decker’s sorry ass home. And, as had become the norm, the bastard fought them every step of the way.

Tonight had been particularly brutal. Not only had Decker physically attacked them, he’d opened his mouth to spew as much vile hatred at them as humanly possible. Cursing their very existence, blaming them for the their mother’s addiction, even telling them that Remy had run away so he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore, but none of that was new.

Apparently as drunk as he usually stayed, Decker wasn’t completely oblivious to his sons’ lives. He’d known that Jemma was back and waxed poet about the fiery little redhead and how he’d get her underneath him sooner or later. Cash had almost broken his fingers he swung at him so hard for bringing up those awful memories. His hand still throbbed and he’d have to put some ice on it when they got inside.

But even bringing up Jemma hadn’t been the worst of it.

Decker had turned his full attention on Colt as had become habit and taunted him mercilessly. He’d called him the stupid one. He’d called him the worthless one. He’d even said he wished he’d finished the job and killed Colt in the womb because clearly he’d damaged him mentally. It was the one insult Decker used that Colt couldn’t take in stubborn silence.

He’d never been able to take the taunting about being dumb. Never. Not from anyone. Not from a bully on the playground that picked on him because he read slowly and not from the father that had done the same every day of their childhood.

Colt had launched himself at the old man and nearly beaten him unconscious before Cash managed to pull him off. Even still, the bastard was big and he got in a few decent hits. Cash wasn’t entirely sure Decker hadn’t broken Colt’s nose, again, but his brother wouldn’t let him look at it. He’d only stomped back to the truck, climbed inside and remained quiet and solemn the entire drive home. As mercurial as his moods might be, nothing could pull Colt out of the darkness once he breached it. He had to drown in it before he could find the surface again.

Cash had given up trying to reassure his twin that nobody truly thought he was mentally handicapped years ago. Colt wouldn’t hear him anyways, not about that. His brother wasn’t stupid, not even close. He excelled at everything he’d ever applied himself to.

Schoolwork had just never been one of those things.

He’d barely graduated and most of his better grades had come off Cash passing his own work off as his twins. Not because Colt couldn’t do the assignment, but because he wouldn’t. Because where Cash refused to give the people what they expected and lower himself to the Bomar name, Colt had gone the other way and clung to it with every fiber of his being, using it as a shield.

For a long time now, he’d thought that Colt would grow out of that and realize he was an intelligent, worthwhile human being. He’d pulled himself together after school. He’d done some work, not all of it legal but all of it had paid, and he’d saved to buy the shop in town and open his tattoo parlor. He was a successful business owner and a hell of an artist but nobody would let him ever forget he was also a Bomar, not even himself, maybe especially not himself.

“Well… hell.” Colt drawled suddenly, pulling Cash out of his dark thoughts.

He glanced across the lot as he shifted the truck into park and killed the engine. It took a second for his eyes to adjust but when they did he easily placed the two figures standing on their front step. The porch light was dim and yellow but the willowy blonde and curvy redhead were so familiar they would have been impossible not to recognize.

“This is your fault.” Colt scowled as he threw the door open and jumped down out of the truck.

Whatever pleasure he had felt from seeing Jemma standing there waiting on him ran hard into a wall of guilt. Colt was beaten and bloody and he couldn’t stand for anyone to see him hurting. It was bad enough Cash had seen him that way but for the two girls to be there, it was only going to send his twin spiraling further into the endless well of pain and anger he harbored inside of him.

“I didn’t tell Jemma to wait up.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Colt snapped, marching across the dark lot without looking back.

Cash winced, “Don’t make this any worse. They’re here because they care.”

“Then they’re as fucked in the head as we are.”

He hurried after his brother, not entirely sure what he would say or do when he reached the girls. He kept one eye on Colt as they trudged closer but his gaze kept swinging to Jemma. She’d showered and changed since he left her at the pool earlier. Her hair was down now and despite the fact she was wearing those plaid pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt, he thought she looked just as sexy as she had in her little pink bikini.

There was worry on her face and his heart swelled in his chest. It didn’t matter what Colt thought. He hadn’t told her where he was going. He hadn’t told her anything. He certainly hadn’t asked her to wait around for him to come home but a big part of him leapt at the idea of coming home to her.

He liked that she was here. Liked that she was waiting for him. Liked that she’d been worried about him.

“Move.” Colt grumbled as he barreled past them onto the small porch.

Jemma’s eyes went wide at the harsh order and she stepped back. A gasp sounded and Cash automatically looked at her but it was Skylar that stepped forward. The pretty blonde was wearing a horrified look, her face pale and her blue eyes big as she reached for his brother.

“Oh God… Colt, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.” He jerked his arm away from where she’d put her palm against his bicep. “Don’t touch me right now, Skylar. It isn’t safe and that’s the only warning you’re going to get.”

“I… sorry.” She dropped her hand to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Stupid question, do I fuckin’ look okay?” Colt snarled at her.

Skylar recoiled, her mouth snapping shut even as her eyes went wide at the venom being hissed at her.

“What the hell are you even doing here? Go home Sky. I don’t want you here.”

Colt didn’t pause to watch his verbal swing land. He barreled through the door and disappeared inside the dark apartment. Cash winced when his gaze snapped back to the blonde. Her cheeks flamed pink and her eyes watered noticeably before she ducked her chin to her chest. Jemma reached for her but she jerked away as well, stumbling backwards towards her apartment.

“I told you.” She whispered, “Now’s the part where I get to say I told you so.”

“Skylar, wait…” Jemma tried but her friend only shook her head and then turned and fled up the sidewalk, disappearing behind her door with a loud thud, “Shit.”

“Hey.” Cash caught her by the wrist just as she turned to go after her, “Wait a sec.”

“Hey.” She turned back to face him warily, “I can go. Sky said you wouldn’t want us here but I thought… I guess I just needed to make sure you were okay. Now that I know you’re not, I can sleep easier or something.”

He held tight when she tried to pull free of him, “I don’t want you to go.”

“But…”

“But Colt doesn’t speak for me.” He tugged gently on her wrist and breathed a sigh of relief when she walked into his arms, “I’m glad you’re here.”

She hugged him and he held her tight. Just touching her calmed his nerves. He breathed in her familiar scent and his heartrate slowed. He held her until his brother came storming back out of the apartment, liquor bottle in hand, and then he sighed and forced himself to let Jemma go.

“Hold up.”

“Fuck off Cash.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going with that?” He tried to take the bottle of whiskey but Colt was faster and he blocked him easily.

“I’m not driving anywhere. You have the keys. I need some air.” He glanced at Jemma and his anger flickered for just a second, a mountain of pain showing in his eyes before he forced it back, “You two can have the apartment for the night. I’ll sleep somewhere else.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Jemma frowned.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Colt flashed a grin that was probably supposed to be reassuring but only came off sad. “But I’m going to get drunk and find somebody to keep me warm so y’all have fun. I know I will.”

He took off into the darkness and Cash let him go. There was no use chasing after him. He wouldn’t come back, not tonight. He needed air or to get drunk or both. He just needed to forget for a little while. So he let him go and turned back to Jemma when she touched his arm.

“He took the worst of it tonight?”

“Always.” He nodded and kissed the top of her head when she simply wrapped her arms around him instead of asking what he meant.

“He’s really not coming back tonight?” She asked after a few minutes passed.

“No.”

“Oh…” She leaned back, looked up at him, and his heart almost stopped when she said, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

His fingers tightened on her instinctually, “Is that an option?”

“Just to sleep. No funny business. Promise.” She smiled, “I don’t have to if you’d rather be alone. I just thought, maybe you didn’t want to be, alone that is.”

“I don’t.” He answered quickly, “Stay. Please?”

“Just sleep.” She reiterated and he felt his first smile since he’d left her side earlier slide up his face.

“Promise.”

It wouldn’t be easy but he was just exhausted enough that it might be possible. He led Jemma inside and shut the door behind them. He was fully aware that the last time she’d been in his apartment she’d refused to sleep in his room even alone. Now she followed him silently down the hallway, her small hand in his, and she didn’t say a word when he shut that door behind them too, sealing them inside together.

God, something about seeing Jemma here, in his room, standing beside his bed felt so damn right his chest hurt again. He moved towards her and she didn’t back away. When he cupped her cheeks she grabbed his wrists, holding him close and tilting her head up so he could brush a kiss against her lips.

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