by Jess Bryant
There was a fight tonight. A Bomar fight. And despite the panicked, nervous breakdown she felt coming on, she knew that was where she’d find the Bomar boy she needed. So that was where she had to go.
Chapter Two
The barn was packed halfway to the rafters and not for the first time, Remy wondered how his cousins managed to pull this off. Any other day of the week this place looked all but abandoned. Tonight, it was lit up like a carnival tent and the empty fields surrounding the barn were packed end to end with cars of every color, make and price point. He’d been able to see the glow of the place from a quarter mile away and thought surely anyone with half a brain knew exactly what was going on out here.
Old Settlers, Oklahoma was a small town. Smaller than small really. It was a dusty old oil town that died a little more every time one of the ol’ timers was put in the ground. There was no hiding anything in a town like this. Everyone knew what went on behind closed doors. Everyone knew what kind of business the Bomars dealt in. They knew what this barn was used for but nobody ever said a word.
It was no great secret that Sheriff Trebly had been on the take for years. The old man wasn’t a bad guy. He knew how things worked and he’d always held that some laws didn’t take into account how life was really lived. It helped that he had a bit of a gambling problem too. The old guy paid to play with a line of credit from the Bomars that would never be called in and their beloved Sheriff turned a blind eye to anything that didn’t risk human life. By Trebly’s estimation, two men beating each other unconscious in a cage was their own divine right to stupidity and, unless it spilled into the streets, wasn’t his concern.
The Sherriff’s son also happened to be his deputy though and he was not a fan of the Bomars. Luckily, Lincoln had figured out other ways of dealing with Lawson Trebly. Remy hadn’t asked what that meant, had been afraid to ask honestly. But it had become clear to him that Lincoln had something on the young officer because the guy might talk shit but he didn’t arrest every single one of them like he could have.
Because of that, the Bomars didn’t give much thought to the cops in Old Settlers but they still had to be careful. There were always outside threats to worry about. They’d all had their run-ins with the law but that was never their main concern. Rival gangs and competitors were their main source of trouble and now they had a traitor to add to their list of worries.
One of their own had turned against them. Someone they’d trusted into the inner circle had hit them where they’d known it would hurt the most. Knowing the person that had left Colt lying in a pool of blood was in this very room made Remy more than a little bit uneasy.
Just like this crowd did.
“It’s too fuckin’ crowded in here.”
“Tell me about it.”
He shot a knowing glance at his bodyguard for the night. His cousin, Ford, had been assigned the task of sticking by his side and he hadn’t bothered to argue. Out of everyone in the family, he was least likely to get in a fight with Ford and Lincoln must have known that when he assigned his twin to keep an eye on Remy.
The truth was, growing up, Remy had always been closer to Lincoln. Ford had been the quiet, somber counterweight to Lincoln’s loud, boisterous charisma and though they’d gotten along fine they hadn’t had much in common. Since he’d come back, even before he found out about Lincoln’s betrayal, Remy had gravitated more towards Ford. He’d grown up in the ten years he was away. He’d learned to appreciate Ford’s solid, unwavering seriousness and his ability to keep his head down and his mouth shut. Or maybe he just knew a man with demons when he saw one after so many years of looking in the mirror.
Ford didn’t like crowds. It was another reason Lincoln had probably stuck him on the sidelines tonight, guarding Remy instead of milling through the crowd eavesdropping for information. Ford had done some time behind bars and come out… different. That was all anyone in the family would tell him and since he certainly wasn’t going to ask Ford about it, Remy assumed nobody else had asked what happened to the big man behind bars either.
“How are we supposed to find one asshole in a sea of assholes?”
He thought Ford smirked at that but it was hard to tell behind the thick beard he’d been growing, “Like a needle in a haystack.”
“It’s not like the guy is gonna show up with a sign around his neck saying ‘I’m a rat’ ya know? Rats prefer shadows.”
“He’s hiding in plain sight.” Ford swiped a hand through his long, unruly hair, “Blending in like he’s one of us.”
“Because he is one of you.”
“No. He’s not. He’s not a Bomar so he’s not one of us no matter what bullshit Link spins for those boys on the crew. They ain’t ever gonna have the same loyalty we got because of our blood and this shit proves why.”
Remy had to bite his tongue to keep from making a snide remark about Lincoln. He wanted to snarl that Lincoln was only loyal to himself but even he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He’d fucked over Colt for years, that wasn’t loyalty, but he had managed to keep all of the boys together and, for the most part, out of prison. Lincoln cared about the family and he’d do whatever it took to protect them. Including and not limited to, lying, cheating and stealing so long as it suited the Bomar best interest.
Lincoln was more upset than anyone that the traitor was most likely someone in his organization. It had to be someone connected to the family and with enough knowledge to know when and how to hurt them. The attacks on Colt and his business had been done after a fight only insiders knew about and on nights the rest of the guys were busy elsewhere. The six or seven people deep enough in the organization to pull off something like that were all being watched now but so far their tails hadn’t turned up any hard evidence.
Whoever had bet against the Bomars was laying low, that was why they’d decided to hold another fight. Things had been too quiet the last few weeks. Nobody was talking, nobody was moving and nobody was running any jobs. It was time to do something, to draw their guy out and they’d all agreed a fight was a fairly harmless way to do it.
Harmless for everyone but Remy…
He hated fighting. He hadn’t bothered to tell anyone that because he was here by his own choices but he hated fighting. Hated the feel of bones breaking under his hands. Hated the smell and taste of blood. Hated the sight of the damage he could inflict with nothing but a swing of his fist or a well-placed kick. He was a Bomar. He was supposed to relish the violence, crave it even, but he didn’t. It made him sick.
Maybe it was Decker’s fault. Growing up in that house, seeing the terror that bastard leveled on Cash and Colt every time his anger got the best of him, made Remy hate the genes he’d inherited from their father. Or maybe it was the Army’s fault. Whenever he glimpsed blood now all he could see were the faces of his friends, his unit, as bullets whipped past their heads and damaged them irrevocably. Whatever the reason, the thirst for violence he’d been born with, that he’d happily wreaked havoc with as a stupid kid, was gone and in its place was a bone-deep fear that it was all he would ever be good for.
He’d left and he’d stayed gone for ten years. If it took fighting to earn his place back in his family, then so be it. If it took using his fists to prove to his brothers that he was here to protect them, then he would do it. But he didn’t have to like it and he was ready to get it over with.
“Are we doin’ this shit or not?” He shook out his fists and ignored the glare that Ford shot at him.
“Any minute now.”
“How’s it work? Link gets the crowd all fired up for blood to get last minute bets on the books and then I go to work?”
“Something like that.” Ford pointed upwards and Remy followed his gaze.
Almost as if his thoughts had conjured the bastard, the speakers cracked and a familiar voice hushed the crowd. Everyone in the barn looked up in time to watch his cousin step out onto the ledge of the loft high above them. He might as well have been taking center stage.
&nb
sp; Lincoln knew how to command a room. He’d give him that. These were Abel’s fights. It was Abel’s barn and Abel’s domain but Lincoln was their leader and he wore the mantle like a king. He grinned down at the now mostly silent and riveted crowd, a not so benevolent leader that would have them all beheaded if he saw fit.
“Friends, family, random fuckers…” Lincoln chuckled at his own joke, “So glad you could join us for tonight’s festivities.”
The crowd roared at the welcome. Most of the people cheered and clapped. Several whistled and stomped their feet. But even amid the dull roar a few boos of dissent could be heard.
He wondered if anyone else noticed the way Lincoln’s sharp eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the source of those boos. His smile didn’t falter. His charisma was still on full display. But the warmth was gone as he searched the crowd beneath him for the idiots dumb enough to publicly oppose him.
“You see who the fuck did that?”
Remy shook his head at Ford’s question, “No, I told you...”
“I know it’s fuckin’ crowded Remy. If you ain’t got nothin’ helpful to say, shut it. Some of us want to catch this asshole.”
He opened his mouth to tell Ford where he could stick his attitude but sighed and brushed it off instead. The guy was right. Complaining wasn’t helping and getting in an argument with Ford about it only distracted his cousin from doing what they’d all come here to do. Find the bastard responsible for hurting Colt, and the family, and make him pay.
Remy tried to help scan the crowd as Lincoln continued his opening remarks. Amid the dangerous looking men and the overly made up and under dressed women, were a few familiar faces. He easily spotted more family members doing the same all around the barn but since nobody was dragging anyone out by their collar he assumed they had no idea where the dissent had come from either.
He gazed around the room again, hating that they were outnumbered. There were so many Bomars, it was a rarity, but he felt it tonight. He knew the mindset that anyone that wasn’t one of them was against them was extreme but that was how it had always been. Even when he didn’t feel like one of them, he knew his last name meant he had people on his side.
It was more than some people had.
Outside of family, he recognized a couple of people from town. Guys he’d grown up with or met in the past few weeks. Guys that worked for Lincoln boosting cars or for Abel and his boys running God only knew what sort of illegal products through their small town.
There were also women, lots of women. Lincoln called them groupies and he wasn’t wrong. They hung around the Bomar boys like some women hung around rock stars and in a way, he supposed that’s what his cousins were to these people. Dangerously handsome fuckers that knew how to have a good time and didn’t promise a damn thing but exactly that. Remy had met his fair share of women willing to climb him like a tree simply because of his looks and last name since he returned home and he saw more than one of those women in the crowd now, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat on auction.
Lincoln had explained to him earlier that it was a general rule after a fight, the winner got his choice of the ladies for the night. These women came here knowing full well what they were signing up for and were more than happy to be used for a few wild hours just to say they’d been with a fighter or a Bomar or both. Remy had only rolled his eyes at the idea and told Lincoln to get the hell away from him.
He had zero plans to take a woman home with him tonight. There was only one woman that he wanted. Only one that he fantasized about stripping naked, about kissing and touching, about sinking inside of again and again until she screamed his name… and she wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.
That was why, the first time his gaze strayed over the familiar face in the crowd, he dismissed the resemblance as his mind playing tricks on him. He wanted to see her, so he did. That was all. Even still, he couldn’t stop himself from pausing and retracing back through the crowd. When he found the dark-haired girl with big, storm-cloud gray eyes looking back at him he stopped breathing.
No, his mind screamed with denial but his body knew it was her. It was already reacting. His heart had started to race, his pulse unsteady. His fists clenched with the need to reach out and grab her and he was hard instantly.
That only ever happened for one woman these days and all the logic and reasoning in the world seemed powerless to stop it. He’d tried. There was just something about her that turned him on and he couldn’t turn it off. He couldn’t ignore it and he didn’t want to ignore it. It was her, even if right now she didn’t exactly look like her. Maybe especially right now because she didn’t look like her.
Lord, he’d never seen her like this, so much of her on display. Usually she dressed more conservatively, almost as if she were hiding. Not tonight. Tonight she was showing off everything God gave her and the man upstairs had been generous.
She was built like a damn porn star.
His mind fractured with questions he’d never thought to ask himself. Was that why she dressed the way she did? To hide that body? Because it was bound to draw attention otherwise? Of course she did, he scowled at a man a few feet away that was openly eye-fucking her. If she was scared of men, and he knew her well enough to know that she was, the way every man here was ogling her must have scared the hell out of her.
He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t one of those men but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes off her either. No, he wasn’t one of them. He was so much worse because he was supposed to be her friend but all he could think about was what it would feel like to get that soft, curvy body underneath him.
He’d had a pretty good idea she was curvy. She wasn’t some tiny little thing that he would’ve had to worry about breaking in half if he ever got his hands on her. He’d known there were curves hiding beneath her oversized clothes but he’d never quite imagined this.
She’d donned a pair of skimpy denim cut-offs that barely covered her ass. She had great legs. The perfect length to wrap around his waist. She wasn’t tall but she wasn’t short either. He figured most people would’ve called her average. Average height. Average weight. Average. But he never had and damn if he could think of her as anything but his when his cock was hard and he was aching from just a glimpse of her.
The simple white tank top she was wearing with the open flannel shirt over it wasn’t risqué by any means. In fact, she was probably more covered than any other woman here. But this wasn’t just any woman, and what was under that shirt had his mouth watering and his blood boiling.
He’d never considered himself much of a boob man but she had just converted him. He suddenly had a whole slew of new fantasies about his shy, sweet princess. Like her in his lap, those lush breasts in his face as she rode him.
Fuck, he had to forcibly shake his head to clear those thoughts.
He dragged his eyes back to her face and he got lost in those big, beautiful eyes of hers. He knew from experience that up close they were actually blue but it was so light they looked gray at this distance, like storm clouds threatening heavy rain. He could drown in those eyes but it wasn’t just the color.
She looked at him like he was the goddamned hero of the story instead of a villain and it was addicting as hell.
Her face was painted with makeup tonight and he decided instantly that he hated it. Hated that the thick black liner only made her big eyes bigger. Hated the way that rosy red mouth all but begged to be kissed. Hated that the sex doll outfit and makeup wiped away every trace of the innocent girl he knew her to be.
The only spec of innocence left was in her eyes when their gazes collided, and even that was tinged in something darker, something that he knew mirrored his own. Want. Need. Desire.
She nervously licked her lips and he had to swallow a groan. That was the most frustrating part of his desire for this girl. He knew she felt it too. Knew from the first time she looked up at him that she wanted him too. She was wary and distant and shy with everyone else but fro
m the moment they met she’d looked at him with stars in her eyes and he’d wanted to give her the sun and the moon and everything in between.
God, he’d never wanted anything in his entire life the way he wanted her. Hadn’t thought he could want like this. Not after everything that he’d been through. Not carrying all of his baggage. But then she’d walked into his life and everything he thought he knew about himself had gotten shaken at the very foundation.
Because if all he’d wanted was her mouth, that full, red, pouty mouth that had given him more hard-ons in the past few weeks than he’d had in a lifetime, he would have simply taken it. If all he’d wanted from her was a tumble in the sheets to sate his lust, he was certain he could have seduced her already. But he wanted so damn much more than that, he wanted everything his brothers had with their women and he wanted it with her.
With Rachel. His Rachel. Damn it, she was his and knowing all of these other lecherous assholes were staring at her and imagining getting their hands on her made him violently, impossibly angry. Because he hadn’t claimed her yet, hadn’t wanted to push her too hard or too fast, had known she was scared and wanted to take his time with her, but coming here, coming here dressed like that, it blew apart all of his good intentions.
All he could think was mine and he had vowed to protect what was his this time around.
It wasn’t safe for her to be here. She didn’t belong here. She was too good, too sweet and pure and innocent to be in a place like this. If she knew what the kind of men that hung out in places like this wanted from her she would be terrified because as best as he’d ever figured out, men in general scared the living hell out of her.
He didn’t know why that was. She’d never told him. He assumed someone had hurt her, an old boyfriend maybe, but he’d never asked. It was a touchy subject for him. He knew it would be for her too. That was one thing he feared they had in common and maybe, that too, was one of the reasons he gravitated to her.
