No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1) (12 page)

Several hours later, Jemma was curled up on Skylar’s couch with her feet under her, a blanket wrapped around her and an empty packet of Kleenex littering the table in front of her. She wasn’t a crier but she hadn’t been able to help herself, again. Seeing the look of concern on her best friends face, the horror and shock and finally the anger and regret, she had broken down and admitted everything that she had been keeping locked up inside of her for so long.

The years of verbal abuse, of being talked down to and told that she was nothing but trash, that she wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, successful enough. The numerous bouts of physical abuse where the evidence had been easy to hide with long-sleeves and pants and the few where it had been more difficult and she’d hidden in the apartment until she healed. The multiple women she’d known about Hoyt cheating on her with and the threats, the constant threats that she would never be able to get away from him.

She told Skylar everything. Things she’d never told a soul. Because if she had, she would have had to face it and she hadn’t wanted to. She still didn’t. But she’d found the strength to leave, finally, and she wouldn’t go back to him, so she knew it was time. She had to say it all, admit what she’d let happen out loud and to someone else, someone that would love her through to the other side so that she could start to heal.

Of course, it hurt almost as badly seeing Skylar cry for her. Knowing that neither of them would be crying now if she had done something sooner. If she had stood up for herself a long time ago then she would already be over it by now. She’d be able to move on with her life as soon as she managed to deal with it and put it behind her. That’s all she could do now.

“I just… I knew it was bad but…”

“I know.” Jemma tried for a wobbly smile when Skylar only shook her head, “I hid it well. He hid it well. He made sure I was far away from here, from you and anyone that could have talked me out of staying.”

“Your parents?”

“Don’t know. Not a bit of it.”

“Jem, I know you said you hadn’t called them but…”

“I’m not ready to face them.” She shook her head, “Dad will feel bad, like it’s somehow his fault for not being there for me or being a better role model or something.”

Halfway through her story Skylar had popped open a bottle of white wine and filled them each a glass. She took a long drink from the oversized cup she’d been using and held up what was left of the bottle as if in offering. When Jemma shook her head, she shrugged and poured the remains into her own glass.

“And your mom?” She said after another strong sip.

“I don’t want her to see my face like this.”

“Maybe she should, Jem.” Skylar hedged carefully, “I mean, its one thing, you telling me about everything that bastard put you through. I talked to you enough to pick up on some of it. I saw the signs. But your mom…”

“Thinks Hoyt hung the moon? Yeah, I know. I painted him in the best possible light I could. Hid everything bad and only showed her the good. I made my bed and I’ll have to lie in it.”

“You really think she’s going to take his side don’t you?”

She winced, because Skylar had hit the nail right on the head with that assessment, “I don’t know, yes, maybe, in my worst nightmares I see her asking me what I did to make him so angry, why I couldn’t make him happy, like it’s my fault or something.”

“Jem…”

When Skylar gave her that soft, pitying look she wished she’d accepted some more wine. She curled up around her legs and dropped her chin to her knees. She hated herself for saying it, for even thinking it, but she’d learned that lies hurt just as much as the truth. She didn’t know how her mother was going to react to her running home and she wasn't ready to face her not knowing.

Terri Adams Buxton Newton wasn’t a bad mother. She’d been there for Jemma when she needed her. She’d never forgotten to pick her up from school because she was too drunk or stoned to remember she had a child. She’d never sent her out in public dirty or let her go hungry. She’d never raised a hand to her and when she’d raised her voice she’d usually had good reason.

There were a lot worse mothers in the world, Jemma knew that, but she’d also never been close to the woman either. As she’d grown up, she’d realized an invaluable truth. Her mother loved her, but she also hated her for ever having been born.

Young Terri had big dreams of running off to the city and becoming a star. She’d gotten pregnant, as so very many small-town girls did, and married, all within months of graduating high school. Jemma’s birth had meant the death of the future she’d wanted for herself and though she’d loved her, she’d never wanted the daughter that kept her trapped in this town.

She’d never said that. She’d never had to. Jemma was smart after all. She’d put it together. First when she’d gotten speeches about keeping her body covered and not leading the boys on and later when she’d been lectured on not making the same mistake her mother had and ending up trapped here with a husband and a kid she didn’t want as well.

Terri had blown her top when she found out about Cash. She had called him every awful, dirty name in the book and forbidden Jemma from seeing him. Of course, what she hadn’t known at the time was that Cash would do what even her mother hadn’t been able to. He’d driven her out of town, forced her to go out into the world in search of something better.

Sadly, she thought she had found it and for the first time in her life, she could remember her mother looking proud of her.

Terri had divorced Jemma’s father at the first opportunity and taken up with Dewey Newton. The nerdy high-school principal was her type only in that his name held a level of respect in their small hometown and his bank account supported her shopping habits. If that was what her mother wanted for her, Jemma had gotten all of that and more when she’d gotten involved with Hoyt Bates.

Her mother loved him, or the idea of him at least. He was everything she’d ever wanted for Jemma. Rich and successful, he could give her the kind of life that would make others jealous. And Jemma had played that up for her mom’s benefit for so long that when things twisted and went bad, she hadn’t known how to tell her. So she hadn’t. The idea of coming clean now, made her physically sick.

“She’s going to be disappointed.” She finally sighed.

“You don’t know that.”

She shot Skylar a skeptical look, “I was engaged to a Bates. I’m wearing a gargantuan diamond on my hand. I was rubbing shoulders with Houston’s finest. Now I’m back here in this dusty little town with nothing to show for the last five years, a broke down Jeep and no husband, job or money. She’s going to be disappointed.”

“Look…” Skylar put her wine glass down, “I know Terri has never been a candidate for mother of the year. I haven’t forgotten that she used to steal your clothes okay. She got bit by the green-eyed monster when you turned fourteen and got boobs but she’s also your mother and she loves you. If you tell her the truth, show her the truth, she’s going to understand.”

“Maybe.”

“Just think about it okay?”

She nodded and worried her bottom lip. It didn’t hurt so bad today which meant it was starting to heal. She ran her tongue over the scab and despite the hundreds of things she should have been thinking about, her mind raced back to the memory of Cash kissing her. Or, rather, her kissing Cash. Then Cash kissing her. She shivered as heat suffused her veins just that fast and easily.

As if she could read her mind, Skylar picked her wine glass back up, “So, now that we’ve covered everything about the most recent bastard in your life, I’m breaking the truce and asking, again, just what the hell was going on with the first bastard to break your heart when I walked into that apartment earlier.”

Jemma sighed, knowing the reprieve was over. She’d put Skylar off when she asked earlier. She’d told her there were so many other things she had to tell her that it would just have to wait. They’d both showered and she’d borrowed some ill-fitting clean clothes and then she’d dragged Skylar down the Hoyt rabbit hole. But it had been hours and if her best friend was anything, it was tenacious. She’d escaped this conversation for as long as Skylar would allow. And since she was coming clean, she figured now was as good a time as any.

“Don’t call him that.”

“What? A bastard?” Skylar blinked, her blue eyes widening with confusion and concern all over again, “I thought that was what we’d agreed to call he who shall not be named years ago?”

“We did. I did. I just… I was wrong Sky.”

“About Cash?”

She nodded. Skylar frowned, hard. She avoided the probing gaze that saw straight through her.

“He’s not the devil. I know that. I always knew that I just… I needed him to be, so I could hate him, you know? But he helped me last night and he was there for me and… I don’t hate him Sky. I don’t think I ever did.”

“Oh…Kay…” Skylar dragged out the word and held her glass of wine close, “I’m going to say something but first you have to promise me that you won’t get mad.”

She nodded. Because what else was she going to do? She didn’t know what her best friend was going to say so she couldn’t promise not to react badly to it. She could try not to though, so she nodded again when Skylar looked skeptical.

“Okay, here goes… You just went through something seriously traumatic. You’re getting out of an abusive relationship and you’re in no position to be making decisions about getting into another one, particularly not with a man that hurt you once before.”

“Sky…”

“Do not… I repeat do not get involved with Cash Bomar right now.”

She winced at the scorn her friend didn’t try to hide when she said his name. She couldn’t blame Skylar for it either. She couldn’t get mad because she knew she was right. She knew everything she’d said was true. But that still didn’t stop her from coming to his defense.

“I’m not. I…”

“Don’t lie to me.” Skylar cut her off by raising her voice, “I saw you two with my own eyes. You were cuddled up like long lost lovers when I walked in and the way you two were looking at each other was... intense.”

She shrugged, “He was my best friend once, other than you of course, and I don’t know how or why but there’s a reason he was the one that saved me last night. He took care of me and… something happened and I see him more clearly now than I ever have. I was wrong about him.”

“Yeah, I can guess what happened.” Skylar only snorted, “You saw his gorgeous face and bulging muscles and forgot to use your brain. Those Bomar boys should come with warning labels just like cigarettes or alcohol. They’re bad for you.”

She deflected with a smirk, “We still talking about me?”

“Of course we’re still talking about you.” Skylar narrowed her gaze, “What else would we be talking about?”

“You and Colt.”

“There is no me and Colt.”

She might have believed her if she didn’t know Skylar so well, “That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing.”

“I have a boyfriend, remember?” Skylar stood up suddenly and headed for the kitchen, empty wine bottle in hand, “There’s nothing going on with Colt.”

“He was flirting with you.” She frowned when Skylar threw the bottle into the trash harder than necessary and it banged loudly.

“He flirts with anything with a vagina. I know you’ve been gone a long time, but you can’t have forgotten that. Hell, I’d be willing to bet he hit on you even though it’s perfectly clear that you still only have eyes for his brother.”

Jemma watched Skylar stomp around the kitchen, banging cabinets and frowned. She had a point. She remembered the way he’d looked at her breasts. That was just Colt. And if he was the only one that had been flirting, she might have believed her friend, but he wasn’t, and she didn’t.

“You never mentioned that you two had gotten friendly.”

Skylar shrugged, “You didn’t want to hear about them, either of them.”

“No. I didn’t. You’re right.” She sighed, “What are you looking for?”

“More wine. If we’re going to talk about the twins, I’m going to need more.” Skylar slammed another cabinet, “Besides, I did mention Colt, in passing, just not by name.”

“What?”

“I told you that somebody had put in a tattoo parlor next to the salon.” Skylar shrugged, “It’s Colt’s.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she ignored her friend when she gave a shout of glee and came up with a bottle of wine from the bottom of the fridge. Skylar had mentioned a tattoo shop opening in their hometown, next to her salon even, but she’d never said who owned it and Jemma had never asked. She remembered all of the beautiful, intimidating artwork covering Colt’s arms and then let her eyes trail over her best friend once again, this time with a skeptical eye, as she came back into the room.

Skylar had developed a fascination for ink when they were still relatively young. It had started as part of her rebellion against her overprotective parents and become an expression of her true self. The few tattoos Jemma could see now were intricate and detailed and she knew for a fact that there were more beneath Skylar’s clothes. What she had not known was just who had been putting all of that beautiful ink on her friend’s skin.

“He did yours didn’t he?”

“Hmm?”