by Jess Bryant
“I made a mistake.”
“Yeah, you did. You told me that I had to talk to you, that I had to let you in and tell you what I felt but you didn’t do the same. As soon as trouble hit, you hid it from me. You didn’t believe in me, in us, to get through it and now we haven’t.”
For a man of so few words, he destroyed her with the ones he was using now. She’d ruined them, he said. She hadn’t believed in him or them. And now she was going to pay the cost. She was going to lose him.
A tear streaked down her face, “I’m sorry.”
“Goddamnit Jemma!” His mask cracked as he screamed at her and she winced, “I know! I know you’re sorry but it doesn’t fucking matter. I don’t know what to say to you!”
“Say you’ll forgive me like I forgave you. You lied and I forgave you. Do the same for me. Please.”
He shook his head, “I can’t. I can’t say it because I don’t know that I can right now and I don’t want to lie to you.”
“Cash…”
“I’m not a good man, Jem. A good man would say it and find a way to make it true but I just can’t right now. I’m so goddamned angry at you. I want to put my fists through something. I want to scream and yell and tear everything apart but that just proves you were right not to trust me doesn’t it? I would have killed him. You were right about that.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
He didn’t argue with her. He just stood there, looking at her, for a long time. She wanted to go to him. She wanted to cross the room and throw herself into his arms but she wasn’t sure he would catch her anymore. She wanted to fall at his feet and beg him to forgive her, to understand her side the way she was only just beginning to understand his, but she didn’t. He’d said it wouldn’t matter and it wouldn’t. She’d already lost him. He was already gone even though he was standing right in front of her.
She swallowed hard, “So that’s it? You’re just going to give up on us?”
He raised his shoulders, a shrug that was far too heavy, “I don’t know. I can’t even think straight Jemma. I’m so mad at you, at Colt and Remy. I’m so fucking angry I can’t see anything but red right now.”
They fell silent again and she wiped another tear from her cheek, “I love you.”
“If I didn’t love you I don’t think I’d be so pissed off.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, “But I can’t do this right now. I can’t. I need to be away from you right now. I can’t even stand to look at you. It hurts too much.”
She knew the feeling. It was the same thing she’d gone through when he broke her heart. She’d dealt with it by leaving too. She’d stayed gone for five long years. But in the end, she’d never really dealt with her broken heart, not until she’d come back to him.
She knew then what she had to do. She hated it, but she knew. It took every ounce of her strength to pull herself together. She pushed away the tears that streaked her face and tried to stand tall even though she felt seconds away from crumbling. She met his gaze and then she did what she had to do… and stepped aside.
“Go then.”
He frowned.
“Go. Go and be alone. Go and think about this, about us. Just go, Cash.”
He stared at her and the tears started again. She angrily wiped at her cheeks. She could barely see him through the blur of them now but she raised her voice and pointed at the door.
Go! Leave me! If I’m that terrible that you can’t stand to look at me then go! I love you and I don’t want you to hurt so go! Please! Go!”
She was sobbing by the time she heard him move. She had to listen for the rustle of his clothes because she could only barely see him. She couldn’t make out his expression. She could only feel him as he moved past her, taking his warmth and safety and comfort and leaving her, maybe for good this time.
Maybe this was just how they were always destined to part. They hurt each other. They loved each other so much but neither of them saw how strong the other one truly was. So they lied and omitted instead of trusting and believing. And as long as that was the case, this was the only way it could ever have ended.
Outside the apartment she could hear voices yelling again. Male voices. The same voices from earlier. Voices that belonged to men she loved. They were screaming at each other again but she couldn’t make out the words over her own sobs and she didn’t try to go and break it up this time. She barely made it to the nearby couch before her legs gave out and she curled herself up in a ball to cry.
There was the sound of shuffling feet nearby but she didn’t look up. She could still hear the male voices outside raised in an argument. A soft hand touched her shoulder and only made her cry harder because she realized she wasn’t alone at all.
Skylar had come home at some point during the fight. No doubt, Colt had stopped her outside so she didn’t interrupt them. She’d been standing out there listening to them scream at each other just as she knew Cash’s brothers had been. They’d heard everything.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Skylar slid onto the couch next to her, wrapping her slim arm around her back and offering a comforting stroke.
“N…n…no. It’s… not.” She sniffed softly.
Not this time. It wasn’t going to be okay. Nothing might ever be okay again.
Because this time she was the one that had hurt him. She was the one at fault. She was the one that would have to wait, have to hope and pray that he came back to her. And she knew that if she’d lost Cash for good, it would hurt forever.
“Shh, okay, just… let it out.” Skylar soothed instead of offering more platitudes.
Her friend rubbed her back and Jemma sobbed into her lap. Ugly crying until she was hiccupping and couldn’t quite breathe. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she felt Skylar stiffen next to her.
“What do you want?”
Jemma looked up through her swollen eyes to see who she was talking to and only cried harder. Colt stepped into the apartment and moved towards her. She couldn’t fight with any more of them tonight, particularly not the one that looked so much like the man she loved. She shook her head but he didn’t stop until he knelt in front of her and took her tear soaked hand.
“Don’t give up on him, Jem.”
“I…I…I didn’t. He… gave up… on me.” She hiccupped.
“He’s angry but he’ll cool down. It was smart of you to tell him to go and give him time. He’ll come around. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime okay.” He squeezed her hand and then released her, his attention turning to the woman at her side, “Keep an eye on her would ya?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Skylar answered softly.
“Good, because I’m going after him.”
Jemma swiped at her face, “He left?”
Colt nodded, “Grabbed his keys and took off.”
“You have… to go after… him.” She desperately grabbed for his arm as panic spilled into her veins, “You have to…”
“I know.” Colt cut her off with a nod, “If he’s headed for Houston, I’ll stop him, however I have to. If he’s not, I’ll let him stew and calm down and then I’ll try talking to him again. He’ll come around. He has to.”
She nodded even though she didn’t believe that. No, he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to forgive her.
“You really think he could hurt someone tonight?” Skylar asked seriously.
“Only himself.” Colt shook his head.
“Go. Go after him. Please take care of him.” Jemma begged.
“I will. It’s what I do.” Colt started to rise.
Skylar jerked forward, one hand catching him by his shirt. She pulled on him to keep him from moving away. Colt paused, surprise flickering across his face before he wiped it away and simply stared down at her. A long moment of silence passed and then he shook his head, his eyes clear. He caught her hand in his and slowly pulled it away from his shirt, releasing him.
Skylar’s voice trembled slightly when she spoke again,
“Be careful. Please.”
Colt stared at her for another second that stretched long and then he nodded. He dropped her hand and stood. He stepped away and then, he was gone.
“Those Bomar boys are nothing but trouble.” Skylar joked but even through her tears Jemma could see her fake smile wobble, “I tried to tell you to steer clear didn’t I?”
“I love them.”
“Yeah…” Skylar gave an unhappy sigh, “Me too.”
Jemma whimpered slightly and leaned into her friend. They were doomed. Cursed to love men that had no idea what love was. Men that pushed everyone away and kept themselves at arm’s length. They loved them but it might never be enough and her tears swamped her all over again at the thought.
Somewhere out there Cash was hurting and alone and it was her fault. She was the one that had hurt him and she was the one that had taken away the one person in the world he’d trusted without fail. She’d told herself time and again that she wouldn’t come between the twins, wouldn’t disrupt the bond they shared, but she had.
“This is all my fault.” She mumbled against Skylar’s shoulder between sobs.
“Somehow, I doubt that.” Her friend brushed her hair back.
“I’m a terrible person.”
Skylar scoffed, “No, you’re not. Maybe you made a bad decision but that doesn’t make you terrible. People do stupid stuff all the time, particularly when it comes to the ones they love.”
“I was only trying to protect him from himself but I screwed up.”
“I only heard the parts when you two got really loud. You don’t have to tell me the whole story. It doesn’t matter. You know what does?”
“What?”
“Amid all that yelling, it was clear you both love each other very much. That has to mean something right? You love him. He loves you. Everything else you can work out.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“You’re asking the wrong question, Jem. What if it is?”
Chapter Twenty
Considering he felt more like a Bomar than he had in years, Cash went home.
For a split second, he’d contemplated hitting the highway and heading for Texas. He’d vividly imagined the look on that bastards face when he knocked on the door of his high-rise apartment. He would have enjoyed the sound and feel of putting his fist through the fucker’s face, knocking out his teeth and breaking his nose. Only the knowledge that the guy’s face was probably already smashed beyond recognition had stopped him.
Remy had already handled him. He’d beaten him bloody until he broke and gave him the information he’d used as threats. There was no telling what kind of torture Remy had made him endure to get what he wanted but if he was guessing it had been brutal and ugly. On his best days, Remy had always skated closer to Decker’s violent sadism than was healthy and that had been before he became a trained killer.
Cash wanted to hate his brother for taking his revenge away from him. He wanted to be angry that he’d taken what was rightfully his. It should have been his right to deliver those blows, to defend himself and his woman and his family. But nobody had trusted him not to go off the deep end and take it too far and as angry as he still was, he could admit now that they’d been right to worry.
Oh, it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. That’s why he was taking it with a bottle of whiskey. He was drowning his sorrows and his miseries right along with his hopes and dreams. He hadn’t touched hard liquor since the last time Jemma broke his heart but he figured if he was going to sink again it was only fitting to do it up right.
Call it nostalgia, or masochism or just another fucked-up Bomar acting out, but he figured going home was the perfect ending to this night.
He hadn’t gone up to the house. He couldn’t. Decker’s truck was parked out front and as messed up as he might be he wasn’t itching for another confrontation. So he’d bypassed the house where he’d grown up, where all the horrors of his life had happened, and headed for the only safe place he’d ever known.
The fort he and Colt had built out of spare plywood, tree branches and scrapped parts was hidden in the tree line near the back of the property. He hadn’t been out there in years, clearly nobody had which didn’t surprise him. They were the only ones that knew it was there, knew it existed, that had been the point of it.
He couldn’t remember the day they’d started building it. Didn’t know where they’d found all of the pieces of wood or the nails or the tools to put it together. But he didn’t have to think hard at all to recall why they’d built it.
They’d needed somewhere to hide. Somewhere that Decker couldn’t find them. Somewhere he would never think to look. They’d outgrown their hiding places in the house and besides that, he’d always found them there. Whether it was under a bed or in the back of the closet, he raged drunkenly until he stumbled onto one of them, usually Cash, and then when he started hitting him, inevitably Colt would come out to help take some of the blows.
So they’d built the fort and it had been their hiding place. Whenever Decker had started drinking and yelling, they’d quietly pack up a bag and trek down into the woods to spend the night somewhere safe. It hadn’t mattered if it was a hundred degrees and the bugs nearly ate them alive or if there had been snow on the ground, they’d chosen it over the house more times than he could count.
And when they’d gotten older, when they’d gotten big enough to fight back and hadn’t needed a place to hide anymore, they’d still visited it. Sneaking girls out to the fort had been rare but it had happened. More often than not, as teenagers, he and Colt would snatch beers from the fridge and get drunk while talking about how they would never end up like their father.
Sitting there now with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, Cash stared out over the Bomar land and laughed at how naïve they’d been.
All he’d ever wanted was to be better than Decker but he wasn’t. He’d wanted to be better but that was the joke. Failure was part of his DNA. He could try but he would always come up short when it mattered. He was just like Decker.
Angry. He was so fucking angry. Violent. He wanted to put his fucking fist through something. Mean. He wanted to lash out and use his pain to hurt someone else. Useless. He wasn’t good for anything but destruction.
He was a Bomar through and through.
A twig cracked behind him but he didn’t turn around. His shoulders tensed at the sound of footsteps, rocks and leaves being crunched underfoot, but he didn’t move. He just tightened his grip on his bottle of whiskey and stayed seated because if he got up, he’d be tempted to swing the bottle at the intruders head and even half-drunk and angry, he didn’t want to kill his twin.
“Thought I might find you here.” Colt stopped just behind his right shoulder but he refused to turn and look at him.
Just because he didn’t want him dead didn’t mean he wanted to talk to him right now.
Colt huffed out a breath at his silence, “I checked the highway first or I would have been here sooner. Thought you might try to head out of town, take things into your own hands, so I camped out down at the pumps to see if you’d swing by to get supplies. When you never showed I figured you were sticking around. Only so many places to go in Old Settlers so I tried the garage and the bar but when you weren’t at either I figured there was a chance you came out here.”
He rolled his eyes at the long-winded explanation of how his brother had tracked him down. Colt was babbling, a sure sign that he was nervous. He was trying to fill the silence while he figured out his next move. He’d set out to find him and he had but he must not have used his time to come up with an apology.
Cash downed another hard slug of the brown liquid. No, he knew his twin better than that. Colt hadn’t come to apologize. He never apologized for anything. Fuck the world and the horse it rode in on, that was Colt’s motto. If you didn’t like him, didn’t like something he said or did, well fuck you too. He didn’t need you or your approval. He hadn’t come out here to apolog
ize.
“Why are you here?” He finally sighed.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid like drive to Houston and put that fuck in an unmarked grave.” He stared out into the darkness, his voice soft as he shook his head, “Not going to go picking fights with any of our family members either.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“But I do want to be alone so you can go.”
Colt didn’t surprise him in the least when he shuffled to sit down beside him, “No.”
Cash rubbed his eyes, refused to look at him and scowled, “I’m not sharing my whiskey with you.”
“Didn’t come for the whiskey. I came for you. We need to talk.”
“Not right now we don’t.”
“Damn it Cash, don’t shut me out.” Colt growled and he finally turned to face him.
There was a look of despair in his eyes that Cash recognized easily. He figured it mirrored his own. And fuck if they didn’t look alike in the dark like this. Their differences were muted in the darkness, the haircuts indistinct and Colt’s tattoos all but invisible. Looking into that square, chiseled face and intense blue eyes felt like looking into a mirror and he wasn’t prepared to do that just yet.
“Go away Colt.” He jerked his gaze back forward.
“Not until you hear me out.”
He snorted, “Why should I? You didn’t talk to me before, when it would have made a difference. You lied to me then so go ahead, spill more lies to me now to try and smooth it over.”
“I didn’t fuckin’ lie.” Colt snapped and then pressed out a deep breath, “I didn’t tell you what was going on but I didn’t lie.”
“You told me everything was fine when I asked why you were upset this week. That was a lie.”
“Yeah, maybe, but that’s the same as telling your girl her ass doesn’t look fat in a miniskirt. White lies aren’t bad. They’re designed to spare somebody’s feelings. What I did, it ain’t no worse than that.”
At the mention of his girl, a sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. An image of Jemma in a miniskirt formed in his mind faster than he could blink it away. His girl in a tight little skirt that clung to her sweet, round ass was a fantasy. Slipping his hand beneath to find out if she was wearing panties, to find out if she was wet for him, would just be icing on the cake.