by Jess Bryant
“Fuck.” Cash groaned and she felt him shift a moment before a big hand landed on her knee.
She jerked away from him and swiped at her cheeks, “Don’t touch me.”
“Okay. Sorry.” He pulled his hand back, his voice low and even again.
Had she hurt his feelings? Well that was just too damn bad. He’d shattered hers once and now he was here to witness her falling apart all over again. She hated herself for crying in front of him, for showing weakness, but she couldn’t stop the sobs that tore through her as the worst day of her life continued to unfold steadily in front of her.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Cash offered soothing platitudes that only managed to piss her off.
“How… could… you possibly… know that?” She managed as she tried to rein in the sobs.
“Because I’m not going to let anything else happen to you.”
Through the sheen of tears, she blinked at him. Surely, she’d heard him wrong. He couldn’t have just offered to take care of her. He hadn’t just sounded as though he cared what happened to her. And even if he had, she knew better than to trust him.
“I already told you… to take your pity… and stick it up your ass.” She wiped at her tear-streaked face and winced when she hit a particularly sensitive area of the bruise that covered her cheek.
“It’s not pity. It’s…” He swiped a hand over his face and sighed, “Look, I don’t expect you to believe me, not after what I did, but I care about you Jemma. I always have. I hate that somebody hurt you and I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
“You had a strange way… of showing it.”
“Yeah. I deserve that, so go ahead, hate me, but we both know you need somebody right now and I’m going to be that guy.”
He’d pulled the tow truck into the parking lot of the garage by the time he finished talking and he turned to face her now. She swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. His features were firm and solid, uncompromising, but his eyes were as soft as she’d ever seen them and full of things that confused her already too confusing life.
She sniffled, “I don’t need you.”
“Bullshit.” His jaw twitched and she wondered if he was fighting the urge to reach over and grab her, maybe shake her until she saw things his way, “You don’t have anyone to call. You don’t have anyone here to help you. You don’t even have somewhere to stay.”
“I’ll get a hotel.”
“The closest motel is thirty miles the other way and you didn’t stop when you passed it so try again.”
“I could call my parents.”
“You could, but you won’t.” He snorted, “If you were going to call either of them you would have done it already. You don’t want them knowing you’re here. That’s fine. But stop lying to me Jemma and more importantly, stop lying to yourself. I’m your only hope right now so cut the shit, stow the attitude and deal with it.”
She was still trying to work up to her next denial when he surprised her by popping his seatbelt and jumping out of the truck as if the argument was over. She blinked as she watched him go. The only sign of his frustration the vibration of the truck when he slammed the door behind him as he walked away.
Only when she was certain he wasn’t leaving her behind did she stop watching him and lean back in the seat. He was unhooking her car from the truck so she listened to the sound of the chains clinking and the motor whirring and took the moment of peace to collect herself. She took a couple of deep breaths, tried to think things through logically and rationally and when she did, she had to admit that she was at a loss.
She wasn’t calling her parents. She couldn’t reach Skylar. And she didn’t have anyone else.
It was surreal that it was Cash sent to retrieve her from the side of the road. That he was being so helpful despite her bad attitude. That he was right and he truly was her last hope. She was down to the last straw, her well-being riding on a man that had already proven himself untrustworthy.
Cash jerked the door open, “Well?”
“Well, what?” She snapped back at him.
“You come up with a better option than trusting me?”
“I… well…”
“That’s what I thought.” He pulled himself up into the truck and tossed her bag, which he must have pulled from the Jeep, at her feet, “You can stay with me tonight and… Don’t fucking look at me like that Jemma! You can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. We’ll figure out how to get in touch with Skylar in the morning or I’ll drive you out to the falls to find her myself.”
She shook her head, hating the tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe, “No. No. No way I’m going home with you. I’ll sleep in my car.”
“Not a good idea. It’s not as safe around here as it used to be.”
“Gotta be safer than spending the night with you.”
He growled, “I’m trying really hard not to take any of this personally but you’re pushing me Jemma. I’m not a goddamned animal. I would never raise a hand to you and I’m sure as fuck not going to force myself on you. You might not think much of me but I’m not a rapist or a…”
She flinched. She must have. Because one second he was railing at her and the next his jaw had snapped shut and his anger faltered. She saw it happen. She saw it the moment understanding lit his intelligent blue eyes and he realized the full extent of the damage she was carrying because pity filled them once again. She looked away but not quickly enough and she was certain he’d seen everything she was trying to hide.
“Jesus…” His tone was soft, barely audible as he cursed a blue streak, “Jemma, I didn’t know, I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”
“No reason for you to be sorry. You weren’t there. You didn’t do it.” She wiped at a stray tear that managed to escape as it rolled down her cheek, “And just for the record, neither did he. He tried. I stopped him.”
“If I’d known I wouldn’t have said… fuck, I’m going to kill him.” His voice was deadly calm, dangerously even, “You’re going to tell me who he is and I’m going to end him because that piece of shit doesn’t deserve to walk this earth.”
The tears rolled faster at his promise of retribution. Cash Bomar running to her defense, offering violence on her behalf. It should have seemed absurd but it wasn’t. Because despite what she’d been telling herself for the past five years, Cash wasn’t the worst of the worst, not even close. There were men out there a hundred times worse than him and she’d managed to find one that would violate even the most basic of moral codes.
“No. I’m not.”
“The hell you’re not.”
“You’re not going to kill anyone, Cash. I appreciate the offer. Don’t think it doesn’t tempt me. But I won’t have you going to prison for my mistake.” She swiped at her cheeks and stared out the windshield at the black sky, “I trusted the wrong man, again. I fell for the wrong man, again. That’s on me. It doesn’t have a thing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me.”
Since that didn’t warrant a response she only sighed, “I need a hot shower and I need to get some sleep. Everything else is just going to have to wait until tomorrow. I can’t deal with anything else today.”
“You’re staying with me until we work all of this out.”
She sighed, “I’m going to accept your offer of a place to stay because you’re right. I don’t have another choice tonight and I know you would never hurt me, not like that. I’m sorry I even implied it.”
“I told you that you never have to apologize to me and I meant it. We’re going to figure everything out and I promise, I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you.”
For reasons she didn’t want to look at too closely, she believed him.
Chapter Four
Cash was keeping a tight rein on his anger and it was still riding too damn close to the surface. It had been a long time since he felt downright murderous. That moment on the side of t
he road when he’d seen Jemma’s face, the urge to hurt the asshole that had dared to mark her beautiful skin had flared, but finding out that the sick son of a bitch had tried to rape her… Jesus, he was barely holding it together and the only reason he hadn’t flown off the handle already was because she needed him to be calm right now more than she needed his promise of vengeance.
She’d gone quiet again when he got them back on the road and headed through town towards the apartment complex where he lived. He let the silence surround them instead of pushing her to talk again. He shouldn’t have pushed to begin with, he could see that now, but he’d been so damn worried when he realized she was curled up in a ball crying that he couldn’t help himself.
He could deal with her being mad at him. He could deal with her hating him. He couldn’t deal with that hurt, betrayed look in her eyes. Five years hadn’t changed that either.
She’d said she didn’t want his pity but that wasn’t what he was feeling. He was angry and he was confused but there was also a decent sized chunk of guilt. He knew she was right. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known what she’d been through or what had happened, but none of that silenced the voice in the back of his head.
The voice that said he’d made a mistake by letting her go. He’d sent her away, he’d all but run her out of town. He thought he’d come to terms with what he’d done because he’d told himself that it was better this way. She deserved better than him, better than the pain and destruction that was an inherent part of his life.
But she’d been alone out there. She’d put her trust in another man that had hurt her far worse than he ever would have. And he couldn’t undo that, couldn’t take back any of the things that had brought them to this point, all he could do was try to be there for her and hope that she would let him.
He took care of people, or at least he tried. When the people he loved couldn’t take care of themselves, he did it for them. Even when those people didn’t want him to.
He turned into the parking lot of the only apartment complex in Old Settlers. It was a complete shit-hole. It had been built back in the seventies when somebody got the idea that Old Settlers was going to be a booming oil town. It hadn’t worked out that way and like every other building in town it looked half abandoned.
There were cars on cinder blocks. Beer cans littered the ground. Plastic lawn chairs and worn-out couches served as the patio furniture in front of most of the units. Several small children ran circles on their bikes in the hazy, yellow streetlight. A group of men sat around a small fire pit smoking cigarettes and drinking out of brown paper bags.
It looked like hell but it wasn’t. Cash knew a thing or two about hell. Nobody had ever broken down his door or tried to kill him in his sleep here. That was more than he could say about the house where he’d grown up. He paid the bills and the water and electric stayed on. It was the most comfort he’d ever known.
Cash didn’t bother trying to pull the large tow truck into one of the spaces. Instead he circled around the side of the building and parked against the curb. When he killed the engine and flipped off the lights, Jemma pulled herself up from her huddled ball and glanced around, her lips pulling into a frown before she turned to face him.
“You live here?”
“Yeah.” He growled, waiting for her to offer some sort of insult.
She’d never been shy about calling him out. Her earlier insults hadn’t surprised him. Knowing what she’d been through, he found it oddly reassuring that she could still stand up to him, didn’t fear his reprisal for doing so. Even still, he felt himself cringing as he thought of what she might say about his living conditions.
“Oh… it’s just… Skylar never mentioned you lived in the same complex she does.”
He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was even holding, “There’s not a lot of housing options in Old Settlers but I can’t imagine it would have come up.”
If she was anything like him, he figured she hadn’t wanted to hear about him from her friends either. It had hurt too damn much to hear her name. Maybe it made him an asshole but some part of him actually hoped she’d cared enough not to be able to deal with hearing about his life.
“You uh…” She glanced around as she stepped out of the truck, tossing the bag he’d grabbed from her car over her shoulder, “You live alone?”
He hesitated at the front of the truck, “Uh, well, no.”
“Colt. Of course.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and blew out a breath, “Don’t know why I would have thought you two wouldn’t still be attached at the hip.”
He fought another growl. He would take shots about him, about his last name, even about the rest of his family. But not about Colt. He and Colt protected each other and that extended to more than just physical threats.
“Let’s get inside.” He motioned towards the door to change the subject, “I don’t think anyone will recognize you but if you want to lay low we shouldn’t stand around out here and risk it.”
Jemma ducked her head, “Probably a good idea.”
He unlocked the door, aware the entire time that she was hovering just next to him. Close enough that he could have wrapped his arm around her, as if she trusted him to protect her, though he know it was probably unconscious. He didn’t dare reach for her, simply opened the door and moved aside so that she could enter.
Colt had been home last so he wasn’t entirely sure what they were walking into but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the apartment wasn’t completely trashed. There was a small pile of clothes in the battered old easy-chair where his brother must have been sorting laundry for something clean. There were dishes in the sink and trash in the garbage but it didn’t smell and it wasn’t nasty.
He watched as she glanced around warily, “You can put your bag in my room if you want.”
“No.” She shook her head quickly, “I mean, no thanks. I uh… I’ll take the couch.”
“You’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s old and uncomfortable as hell. You can take the bed.” He motioned down the small hallway, “Mine is the one on the right.”
“Look, it’s nice of you to let me stay here tonight and I appreciate the offer, but I’d be more comfortable on the couch.” She shook her head again.
Cash thought he understood, but he couldn’t let it go that easily. She might not like the idea of sleeping in his bed. She might not want to be shut in a room alone with no easy way out. But he’d been serious about the couch being uncomfortable and she looked like she needed a good night’s sleep. She wouldn’t get that on the couch.
“Colt will be coming home later and if you’re on the couch, he’ll wake you up.”
He watched her face drop. She visibly paled at the mention of his brother coming through that door. He tried not to scowl that she kept flinching at every mention of Colt. For the first time in his life, he had the strangest feeling that he was missing some important piece of information about his twin and what he had done to make Jemma hate him.
“I’d rather Colt not see me here if possible. I’m not ready for my parents to know I’m in town. I don’t want them to see me like this. And if Colt tells anyone, they’ll tell someone else and it will snowball, you know that.”
He frowned at that, “He won’t say anything.”
She gave him a skeptical look, “You’ll understand if I don’t believe you. When your brother runs his mouth, people tend to listen.”
Confusion flickered inside of him before that something important he was missing fell into place, “Wait… you know, don’t you?”
“That Colt was the one to tell the entire school you pulled a dick-and-dash on me? That he all but hand-drew the scarlet letter that marked me as easy and dumb? Yeah, I know.” She sighed, glanced away and then shrugged, “I never blamed you for that part of it, Cash. You’re twins but you’re not the same person. You may look alike but you’re not your brother and he isn’t you.”
He fought the urge to rush towards her
and scoop her up. She wouldn’t like that, would most likely flinch away from him again, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that a second time. He didn’t want to scare her, but she had to know how much those words meant to him.
He wasn’t Colt. They might look alike but they weren’t the same person. The fact that she knew the differences made something warm and familiar stir in his chest, something he’d have sworn was long gone, if not dead then at least buried deep.
He cleared his throat and tread away from that dangerous territory, “We don’t look identical anymore. Colt has tattoos now. People don’t confuse us nearly as often as they used to.”
That flicker of a smile hit her lips again, “You were never identical to me. I always knew you weren’t the same person. That’s how I knew it wasn’t you that spread that awful gossip. You hated the talk about your family. Colt on the other hand played up to it.” Her smile fell and she glanced at the door, “I should really find somewhere else to stay.”
“No!” He stepped in front of the door, blocking her path, and watched a hint of surprise and something else cross her face. He softened his stance and moved back again, knowing that had been the wrong move. She was hurt and scared and any show of strength on his part was going to send her running straight for the hills. “I’m sorry, just… no, you don’t need to leave.”
“I should…”
“Stay. Please? Colt won’t say anything to anyone, I’ll make sure of it.”
The wariness had returned to her gaze, “You can’t be sure of that.”
Damn it, did she really hate Colt that much? She was standing in his apartment. She’d let him bring her here, let him offer comfort and safety. After what he’d done, she was giving him some small semblance of a chance to make things right, whether she knew it or not. But she couldn’t look past Colt running his mouth about it?
“He’s not the same punk kid you remember.”
“Maybe not, but he’s still a Bomar and I’ve learned to expect the worst where you all are concerned.”