No Apologies (Bomar Boys Book 2)

by Jess Bryant

  No Apologies

  Bomar Boys

  By

  Jess Bryant

  Every small town has that one family that’s more savage than civilized. The ones that are more myth and legend than man. In Old Settlers, Oklahoma that’s the Bomar boys. Wild, reckless and vicious, they skirt the line of criminal and trip over it more often than not. They are their own punchline: white trash but proud beyond compare. Dirty and dangerously sexy, it’s best to steer clear of them or else risk your life… and your heart. These are their stories.

  Colt Bomar is a bastard. A dirty, violent piece of white trash, he makes no apologies for who and what he is. He’s never cared what anyone thinks of him and he cares even less about trying to be a better kind of man… until her.

  She’s everything he’s not. Good, sweet, gentle, she’s an angel that brightens his dark existence. But he’s seen the kind of destruction a man like him can wreak and he intends to protect her from that, from him, if it’s the only good thing he ever does.

  Skylar Holland is no angel. Angels don’t lust after the bad-tempered boy next door when they’re involved with another man. They don’t dream about having the rough hands and sinful mouth of a guy that snaps and snarls at them all over their body. And that’s what she’s wanted from Colt since the moment the troubled Bomar boy said they were nothing but friends.

  Friends? With the man that makes her blood boil and her heart melt? No, she wants more. She wants everything. And she’s not about to apologize for going after what she knows they both want. Forever.

  Can he overcome his past to give her the future he knows she deserves? Or is he doomed to repeat the sins of his father by dragging her down into the darkness with him? And if she treads into the shadows to win him will she even still be the woman he wants when they come out the other side?

  *No Apologies is the second book in the Bomar Boys series but can be read as a stand-alone. Each book features one couple and a HEA but will build on each other so they are best read in order.

  **Warning** - This book contains explicit language, sexual scenes and violence. Though not depicted, mentions of abuse are key to the story and can be a trigger for some.

  NO APOLOGIES – BOMAR BOYS 2

  Copyright ©2016 by Jess Bryant.

  Cover Art: Image Design by Romanced By The Cover

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Colt Bomar was a bastard. Just ask anyone. They’d tell you that he was no good, worthless or worse. It didn’t matter that he’d pulled himself together and made a decent life for himself. It didn’t matter that he’d worked his ass off to start his own business and make it a success. He’d been born a Bomar and there was no escaping his last name or the reputation that went along with it, not in his small hometown.

  Criminals, liars and thieves, his family had earned every bit of the terrible gossip that followed them like a shadow. If it was illegal and happening in a fifty mile radius of Old Settlers, Oklahoma it was a safe bet there was a Bomar boy involved. At least one of them could be found in the nearby prison on any given day of the week and on weekends the local jail swelled in number from his family members alone.

  He wished he could say he’d never lived up, or down as the case may be, to that reputation, but he couldn’t. He’d carved his name in the family legend when he was just a kid. He’d fought with his fists, cut with his words and rained holy bloody hell down on the world at large for the injustice he’d had delivered to him simply for being a Bomar.

  He’d been the principal’s worst nightmare in school. He’d bullied and fought on the playground. He’d stood on his desk and all but started a riot in the cafeteria. Most kids wouldn’t have risked detention, expulsion and a trip to juvie that nearly got him killed before the age of fifteen but most kids had been born with a chance at something better.

  Colt hadn’t.

  He’d come into the world fighting and he hadn’t stopped since. He couldn’t. Not when his father was hell bent on killing him and his twin brother simply for existing.

  Decker Bomar was the goddamned devil. Dark and dangerous, he was pure evil. He seemed to have been put on earth for the express purpose of wreaking havoc and destruction on the people he should have cared for. It wasn’t enough for him to start a barroom brawl with perfect strangers. No, he preferred to get his kicks hurting his wife and children instead.

  On the day Colt and Cash were born, he’d gotten drunk and beaten his wife into a coma. A month premature, the twins had barely survived and to hear the bastard tell it, he wished they hadn’t. He’d been trying to finish what he started ever since and likely wouldn’t stop until one or both of them was six feet under.

  All of Colt’s childhood memories were bad ones. Decker drunk and spewing vile, hateful things at them. Gigantic fists pummeling him into unconsciousness. Cash bleeding and crying as he tried to pull Colt out of the way of another attack. Their older brother Remy leaving them behind when they were still too young to defend themselves. Their mother drugged out of her mind, trying to escape the violence the only way she could but leaving her sons to the horrors Decker wreaked all on their own. Chrissy hadn’t protected them, not once, which made her just as bad in his estimation.

  He and Cash had never had anyone to protect them, to love and care for them, never had anyone but each other.

  So no, he’d never had a chance to be anything but what he was. If he’d been weak, he wouldn’t have survived. If he’d been soft, he wouldn’t have been able to protect his twin. If he’d been fragile, he would have ended up with more than just his bones broken. He’d learned early on that the only way to survive in his family was to be hard and tough, to give as good as you got, and so he had.

  He was a bastard Bomar boy and despite all the fighting he did in his life, he’d realized a long time ago that there was no point in fighting that. He was what he was. He was his father’s son. He was the man that Decker had made him. He was a Bomar.

  He’d faced the cold hard truths about himself a long time ago. He wasn’t a good man. He was damaged goods. He was violent and he had a mean streak when he felt threatened. He shut people out and he didn’t trust easily, or at all. He was stubborn and proud and he made no apologies for any of it.

  He’d accepted the worst parts of his character a long time ago and he’d never cared even a little what anyone else thought of him.

  Until her.

  She’d worked her way into his life, little by little, until he couldn’t imagine it without her. She’d gotten under his skin like a damn thorn that he couldn’t bring himself to dig out. Her presence in his life came with a full blown ache, an annoying pain in his chest that made him edgy and uncomfortable.

  He knew how to stop it. Slice himself open and pull the thorn out once and for all. Cut her out of his life the same way he’d cut out anyone that had the power to hurt him. It’s what he should have done the moment he’d realized just how deep she’d gotten but he hadn’t and now he was fairly certain it was too late.

  He was fucking crazy about the girl.

  She was all he thought about. Even when he knew better. Even when he knew he shouldn’t. Even when he knew it was pointless, that he couldn’t cross that line. Even now, when he should have been focusing on what his cousin was telling him, Lincoln only had half of his attention because a blonde had walked past the window outside and Colt’s eyes had drifted and disappointment set in when he realized it wasn’t her.


  “Colt?”

  He jerked his eyes back to his cousin and didn’t miss the unamused expression on the face that bore a striking resemblance to his own, “What? Yeah, uh… huh?”

  Lincoln scowled, “You weren’t paying a damn bit of attention to what I was saying.”

  “I got distracted.”

  “Uh huh…” Lincoln turned to the window, clearly sensing where his eyes had gone, “Who’d you see?”

  “Nobody.”

  His cousin’s expression darkened, “You got something more important than me you need to deal with?”

  “No, I’m listening.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  He might not like to admit it but Lincoln was right in this. He deserved Colt’s attention. If what he had to say wasn’t important, he wouldn’t be here, saying it. That was the kind of man Lincoln was. Direct, no-nonsense and though they disagreed on a lot, that was one thing they’d always had in common.

  “You sure?” Lincoln tilted up a skeptical eyebrow.

  “Yeah.”

  “Because I thought we were on the same page but if we ain’t then we’ll have to figure out some other terms and I’d hate to have to do that, ya know, you bein’ family and all.”

  “Damn it, we’re on the same page. Stop talking down to me like I’m one of your fucking minions. I’m in, Link. Just tell me what the hell you need from me and then get the hell out of my shop.”

  He snapped, his temper flaring at the condescending tone his cousin used. Lincoln wouldn’t have dared use that patronizing attitude on any of his brothers. They’d have knocked him into next week. Same with the rest of their cousins. He reserved his superior bullshit for Colt and Cash alone because they didn’t live up to the Bomar name in his opinion.

  Only in their fucked up family could he and Cash be the black sheep for trying to live a normal life. For behaving within the confines of the law. For having legal jobs and working hard for their money. For trying to better themselves.

  It was a decision they’d made a long time ago. To work, to keep their heads down and their hands clean of the family business. In all honesty, it was a decision Cash had made, not him. His twin had been the one to force the issue, the one that refused to bend to the will of their family members.

  Cash was the idealist, the true believer in the good of the world and love conquering all and the bullshit that went along with it. Colt was far more skeptical. Maybe because he knew what it took to keep them clean, the price their practical life truly cost.

  He was the one that had paid it. He was the one that was still paying for it. That was why Lincoln was standing in his tattoo studio right at that very moment spouting off about the debt Colt owed him and how he was expected to pay it off.

  With blood.

  Cash knew nothing of this part of his life. Colt had made sure of that. It was part of his deal with their cousin.

  From the time they were children, he and Cash had been a team. They’d only survived their awful childhood because they had each other’s backs. Growing up hadn’t changed that. They took care of each other. So, Cash wanted to stay clean? Colt made it happen, even if that meant he dirtied his own hands on occasion.

  It was a bargain he would make every single day of the week and twice on Sunday.

  Protecting Cash was what he did. It’s who he was. When they were kids that had meant covering his twin’s mouth when he cried out in the middle of the night. It had meant stepping in front of a fist for him more times than he could count. And for the past five years it had meant keeping him in the dark about the shady deal he’d made to get them enough money to start their legal life.

  Cash would probably kill him if he ever found out about it. God knew his twin had lost his damn mind the last time he’d found out one of the secrets Colt kept from him. But he’d managed to talk Cash past his anger and he knew he could do it again. If it ever came to it, if he ever had to tell his brother about this, Cash would forgive him.

  He would have to. Cash would understand the need to protect and provide for the person that meant the world to you. Cash had Jemma now. He was settling down with the love of his life. He was deliriously happy now that he’d gone and gotten engaged and finding out he was going to be a father had only made his twin even more fierce than usual. So yeah, he thought Cash would understand.

  But he hoped he never had to tell Cash about his deal with Lincoln. Ever. He wanted to finish paying off his debt and get clean without his twin ever finding out what he had done. It would be better for everyone that way.

  In the past it hadn’t always been easy keeping this part of his life a secret from his brother but with Jemma hounding him all the time it had gotten much harder. She was always asking where he’d been and where he was going and watching him. For a guy that had never had anyone care about him enough to pay attention, it was kind of nice knowing Jemma worried about where he was and if he was getting into trouble. But at the same time, it was a royal pain in the ass avoiding his future sister-in-law whenever he came home black and blue from a fight.

  He supposed he should just be glad that Cash had taken his girl out of town this week. They’d left this morning to visit Jemma’s dad on the rig site and tell him the news about becoming a grandfather in person. With the apartment to himself, it would make it easier to handle whatever Lincoln needed from him without having to lie.

  “Did you just yell at me?” Lincoln only smirked at his outburst so he crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent, “You did. Good. I was beginning to worry you’d gone as soft as your twinkie.”

  His jaw clenched, “Don’t talk about Cash or I’ll knock your teeth down your throat.”

  Lincoln chuckled, “Yeah, you still got it if you’re threatening me.”

  “Just tell me what the fuck you want this time, would ya?”

  His cousin made a big show of leaning against the counter as if he was getting comfortable but Colt didn’t buy a second of the act. Lincoln never had to get comfy anywhere. He just was. Whether he’d been born with that kind of easy confidence or if he’d earned it by establishing himself as the leader of the Bomar clan, Colt might never know. The fact was a lot of the rumors about the Bomar’s and their prideful, white-trash swagger came directly from the one standing in front of him.

  It was one of the few things Colt could admit he admired about his cousin. Like him, Lincoln didn’t shy away from what he was. He embraced it. And if you didn’t like that, didn’t like him, then he’d tell you to go to hell or deliver you there himself.

  He was a guy whose bad side you didn’t want to be on so Colt cleared his throat and toned down his attitude, “What’s up Link?”

  “There’s a fight tonight and I need you in the cage.”

  Colt rolled his eyes, “That’s it? You want me to fight tonight? A fuckin’ phone call would’ve sufficed, don’t ya think?”

  “Not this time, that’s what I was sayin’. We’re keepin’ it real quiet. No chatter on the lines. Invite only.”

  A flicker of unease lit in his veins. Invite only meant they were keeping it to regulars, people they trusted, no outsiders. That the invites weren’t going out via phone or text meant they were untraceable. And the fact that he knew to worry about things like that was what made him a Bomar.

  “Somebody get tapped?”

  “Nah, nothing like that.” Lincoln answered with an easy shrug, “We’re just being safe.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Uh huh.” He repeated suspiciously.

  “Do I look worried?” Lincoln grinned and Colt snorted.

  “You never look worried.”

  “Exactly.” His cousin pushed back to his full height, grin firmly in place, “So, tonight. Be there about nine. You’re goin in first to shut it down fast. One fight. Knock him out and then you can go on home and you won’t have to hear from me again.”

  “Yeah, until the next time you need me to send a message with my
fists.”

  “Hey, you’re almost paid up. You’ll be done soon enough. Besides…” Lincoln shot him a hard look, “You know you like it. The anticipation and the rush of adrenaline. The roar of the crowd and the feel of breaking another man’s bones. You’re gonna miss it when you’re done.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Uh huh.” It was Lincoln’s turn to snort his disbelief, “Just be there tonight yeah?”

  Though it was phrased as a question, he didn’t have much choice so Colt nodded, “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’ll see ya tonight.”

  “Yeah, now get outta my shop.”

  Lincoln chuckled again and backed away slowly, hands in the air in an imaginary show of defeat. He’d gotten what he came for, that was the only reason he was leaving. Colt wasn’t naïve enough to think that he’d won anything because there was no winning with his family.

  “Hey now, remember it’s still half mine until you pay off that debt, Cuz.”

  He scowled when Lincoln winked as if it were a joke. It wasn’t. He knew better. It was a not so subtle reminder to watch his tone and his place. Lincoln cut him a lot of slack because they were related but he would only be pushed so far. The backtalking and threats were acceptable, but only in private. Doing it in public would not be conducive to his good health or the pristine tattoo studio they were standing in.

  For about the millionth time, Colt cursed himself for accepting Lincoln’s money and using some of it to open Fine Lines. Taking his money had been the opposite of walking away from the family business. If Colt took the dirty money he had to do the dirty deeds that went along with it. But he’d needed that money, Cash had needed it, and Lincoln was the only one that had offered.

  So far he’d never asked for all that much in return. A couple of fights a month in the underground MMA style matches their cousin Abel ran had worked off most of his debt. He was a sure thing in any fight, had never lost, and with Lincoln backing him the money they raked in almost made it worth it.