No Fear (Bomar Boys Book 3) Page 13

  He’d known something had happened, something bad, but he hated that he didn’t know what. Craig, her asshole half-brother, had stopped in and upset her. He hadn’t touched her. That’s what the girls told him. But he’d clearly used his words to hit her again, where it hurt, and since nobody could tell him exactly what threats he’d made, he was left feeling useless.

  He wanted to curse his cousins for leaving the girls alone in the first place. They never should have been alone. Bentley was supposed to stick to Skylar like glue when Colt wasn’t with her and Ford had all but become a big brother figure to Jemma since he was constantly at her side. He hadn’t thought about putting protection on Rachel today because he’d been right next door at the tattoo studio and Colt had promised him, repeatedly, that she was perfectly safe with Skylar.

  Well, Colt had been wrong and Rachel was the one paying for it.

  “Stay there.” He ordered gruffly when he put the car in park and Rachel reached for the door handle.

  She winced and he knew his voice was too hard but he couldn’t help it. He jerked his own door open and slid out of the car. He needed to get himself under control. He needed her to trust him so that she would open up to him, it was more important than ever that she tell him what was going on. She wouldn’t do that if she was scared of him.

  “Come on, babe.” He helped her up and then swept her into his arms.

  “R-Remy, I c-can…”

  “Shh, no talking. Not yet.” He cut her off as he stomped towards the trailer, “We’re both too on edge to talk right now. We’re going to go inside and you’re going to take a warm, relaxing bath. Then… then we’ll talk.”

  He fumbled with the door handle, getting it unlocked, and then awkwardly carried her inside. She didn’t relax in his arms this time. She held tight to him but refused to lift her head and look him in the eye. She’d buried her face in his shoulder again so he only barely heard her when she spoke.

  “I was only gonna say I could walk.”

  He harrumphed at that but didn’t comment. She was going to say a lot more than that but not right now. Later, after, she was going to have to talk to him. She had to know that. He’d sworn that he wouldn’t push her but this wasn’t about them, it was about her safety and he wouldn’t back off when it came to that.

  “A bath sounds nice.” She finally sighed as he twisted to fit them both into his small bathroom and then lowered her to her feet.

  He twisted the taps, turning the hot water on full blast and leaving the cold barely turned on. He knew the hot water heater in the trailer was shit. This way she would get hot water to start and when it began to wane, it would still run at least warm for a while longer.

  He turned back to find her watching him from tear-stained eyes, “I wish I had bubbles or those salt things you girls like but this will have to do.”

  “It’s f-fine.”

  “The hot water will help with the shaking.” His hands went to her blouse and she sucked in a surprised gasp as he began unbuttoning it, “You’re getting in that tub alone, Rach. You need to relax, not get worked up even further. I’m just helping undress you because right now, I need to see that you’re not hurt, okay?”

  She bit into her bottom lip but nodded quickly.

  Remy focused on the task at hand. He was not a good man. He knew that. The way his body responded to her as he revealed her pale skin was only further proof of it. He wanted her. God he wanted her. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of her beautiful body, kiss every centimeter of her smooth skin, and prove to both of them that she was alive and safe. But instead of doing any of that he simply stripped her naked, working methodically and ignoring his traitorous cock as it hardened and then ached. When she was completely naked, he forced himself not to look for anything but bruises and when he didn’t find any, he turned away.

  “Get in the tub, Rachel. Let the warmth sink into your muscles. Relax. You’re safe here.”

  “Th-Thank you, Remy.”

  “I’ll find you something to put on when you get out.” He nodded and then left the room without looking back.

  He hated that she was stuttering again. It was just the two of them. She should have felt safe. His cock being at full mast behind the zipper of his pants argued that maybe she was stuttering because of the sexual tension. God knew it was there and that she could probably feel it as deeply as he could. But he didn’t think so.

  After a lot of rummaging in his drawers, he gave up on finding anything small enough to fit her. He simply grabbed an old t-shirt that would drape her like a dress and went back to the bathroom. If she didn’t want to wear it, she could put her work clothes back on. That was up to her. They’d have to figure out what to do about getting her more clothes though, and soon.

  “Here’s a shirt for you.” He dropped it onto the counter and fought a smile when he saw her relaxing in his bathtub.

  She’d twisted her hair up into a knot, keeping it out of the water. Several long, dark strands had slipped free and curled around her face. She must have used some of his body-wash because the room smelled like him and bubbles had formed around her body, shielding her from his sight.

  “Thank you.”

  “Feeling a little better?”

  She nodded.

  “You want something to drink? I don’t have wine but I could grab you a beer.”

  “No, thank you.” Rachel looked away from him, to the place where she was trailing her hand through the bubbles, “I don’t drink.”

  “Oh…” He shrugged, “Okay. No problem. There’s tea too.”

  “Maybe when I get out.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, knowing that was his cue to leave her alone no matter how much he wanted her to ask him to stay, “I’ll be out here when you’re done. Take your time and relax.”

  Remy shut the door softly behind him and then released a rough breath. After spending far too long staring at the bathroom door, imagining Rachel’s naked body in that tub, bubbles sliding over her damp skin, he forced himself to walk away. Barging back in there now and doing all of the things he’d imagined doing to her would only make it harder for them to simply talk. And they had to talk.

  There was so much he needed to know. Colt was right. He didn’t know nearly enough about her. He didn’t know enough to keep her safe.

  Remy went to the kitchen and pulled a beer out for himself. He cursed as he popped the top and downed a long pull from the cold bottle. He hadn’t even known that she didn’t drink. Because why would he? It wasn’t as if they’d ever gone out for drinks or met up at the bar. He’d never even taken her on a date. That hard truth made him take another long pull off his beer as he wondered why it was she didn’t drink in the first place.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with his free hand, setting the beer aside as he saw the message was from his brother. Colt, just checking in, asking if there was anything he could do. He sighed as he typed back a quick message that if he wanted to help he could get Lincoln to talk to them about Rachel’s brother.

  As he was typing, another message came in and he snorted. There was no way Colt was aware his girlfriend was simultaneously texting him. He read through Skylar’s message quickly. She’d supplied something helpful at least, the fact that Rachel had admitted to her and Jemma that Craig abused her before he showed up and scared her. Remy punched out another thank you for the information and promised Skylar he was going to help Rachel however he could.

  Since he still had his phone in his hands, he also typed up a quick message to Ford. Out of all the Bomar cousins, Ford was the one he would trust explicitly with Rachel’s safety. Ford was a good guy no matter what his genes or his rap sheet said. He was smart and he had decades of experience sitting in the background, silently watching and listening since his twin always took center stage. If anyone in that salon had seen or heard anything that might help him figure out what, exactly, Craig had said to make Rachel go nearly catatonic again, it would be Ford.

 
; As he waited for his cousin to respond, Remy grabbed a cup from the cabinet and the jug of tea out of the fridge. He broke a tray of ice and then poured the brown liquid over it in the big glass. Instead of finishing off his beer, he tossed it in the trash and repeated the gesture, pouring a glass of tea for himself too. As much as he’d like to down another beer, or three, and go numb, he had to stay alert. He needed his wits about him when he sat down to talk to Rachel. He needed to be able to focus.

  But nearly thirty minutes later when Rachel hesitantly walked into the living room, he knew he’d made a grave error in judgement. He was never going to be able to focus on her words with her looking like that. She’d let her hair back down and it curled casually around her shoulders. Her face, make-up free, made her look even younger but her near nakedness negated her innocence.

  Shit. He swallowed a curse and gripped his glass of tea to keep from getting up and going to her. She’d decided to wear his shirt after all. His shirt and nothing else from the looks of it. He couldn’t tell if she’d donned panties or a bra but for the sake of his sanity, he hoped she had.

  “Hey.” She tugged at the hem of the oversized shirt that looked more like a dress on her, “Y-you didn’t give me pants.”

  “I don’t have any that would fit you.”

  “Oh… well, I mean, the shirt is probably long enough… if you don’t mind that I’m not wearing pants.”

  “I don’t mind lookin’ at your legs at all.” He pulled out the seat closest to his at the small kitchen table, “I poured you a glass of tea. Come sit down.”

  Rachel started chewing her bottom lip but did as he said. She shuffled closer and slid into the empty chair. Instantly her hands closed around the glass of tea and she took a long drink, staring at him over the rim. She looked so damn young and so damn fragile like this that it broke his heart. She was too damn young to be scared all the time and he knew a thing or two about fear like that.

  As they sat there, in silence, neither of them willing to speak first, he realized what he had to do. His throat felt tight and his stomach tightened with anxiety but he swallowed hard and reasoned that it was the only way. He would have to tell her at some point and he might as well do it now. At least if he told her now and she reacted badly, he would know for sure where they stood and if he told her now and it helped her to open up and come clean with him too, then it would be worth it to relive his own horrors.

  “Rach…”

  “I-I know you have questions.” She cut him off with a shake of her head, “I’m just… I sat in there, trying to figure out where to start and I-I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re right. I do have questions, a lot of questions.” He reached out and took her hand, “But I’m not going to push you to tell me anything you’re not ready to tell me. I wish I could but I just can’t.”

  “But… why?”

  “Because I know what it’s like to be scared, Rachel. I know what it’s like to be hurt by the people that are supposed to protect you and I know what it’s like when you think you can’t tell anyone, that there’s nobody who would be on your side or who could possibly understand.” He squeezed her hand and didn’t speak again until she met his gaze, “What you need to know is that I do understand, better than you think, and no matter what you tell me, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Rachel’s bottom lip trembled slightly, “Remy, you don’t know…”

  “I do know.” He insisted, “I know it’s hard to open yourself up to someone after you’ve been hurt, babe. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go first.”

  “Wh-What?”``

  “I’m gonna go first.” He repeated slowly, trying to control his breathing which had ticked up at the mere thought of talking about his past, “I’m going to tell you why I understand, maybe better than anyone else ever could, what it is you’re going through and if, when I’m done, you still don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. We’ll deal with it when you’re ready.”

  “Remy, you don’t have to do that.” Her brows furrowed.

  “I know I don’t have to.” He squeezed her hand and then released her entirely, unsure if he could get through this with her sweet touch distracting him, “This thing, you and me, it’s happening fast and if this is what it takes to make you trust me when I tell you that I understand and I’ll be here for you, then that’s what it takes.”

  Rachel studied his face, looking for something, but he averted his gaze. He wasn’t sure he could look her in the eyes and tell her the truth. He’d only ever told three people this story and he knew without a doubt this would be the hardest.

  First had been Lincoln, because when he’d been a scared, eighteen year old kid, there’d been nobody he looked up to more than his cousin. Lincoln had helped him the only way he could. He’d gotten him out of town. In the ten years he’d stayed gone, Remy had never told anyone else. He’d never expected to tell anyone else but when he’d come home, he’d known that his brothers deserved the truth. Cash and Colt had been horrified, rightly so, but they’d never flinched in their support. They’d felt bad that Remy hadn’t thought he could tell them before. They’d felt guilty for blaming him for his absence once they found out what caused him to flee town and leave them behind. But they’d never once looked at him with pity in their eyes and he had a terrible, anxious, knot in the pit of his stomach because he knew if Rachel pulled away from him because of this, that he would never recover.

  “Remy, whatever you’re going to tell me, it won’t change how I feel about you.” Rachel reached for his hand this time, “You know that, right?”

  He hoped that was true. Because what he had to tell her, it had changed his entire life. He was still dealing with the fallout and knew he would be for the rest of his life. He could only hope that Rachel might want to help him with it the same way he wanted to help banish her ghosts.

  He took a deep breath for courage and then forced the words that felt like knives cutting his throat, “When I was sixteen, my mom started wandering into my bedroom at night.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened immediately, her breath turning choppy, and he knew that she understood what he was getting at. Her small hand squeezed his and he squeezed in return. The attempt to offer him some strength, some compassion, made the rest of the words even more difficult and he stared down at the scarred table instead of looking at her.

  “She was high and I guess… I guess I looked a lot like him, like my dad I mean. People said I did. Same dark hair and dark eyes and I’d just finally hit my growth spurt and shot up over six feet.” He swallowed hard, “I think Chrissy thought I was him. Decker. She called me his name whenever she came into my room… into my bed.”

  “Oh God.” Rachel murmured but he continued before the words clogged his throat.

  “At first, all she did was crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night and pass out. I’d get up and tuck her in and go sleep in the twins’ room or on the couch.” He closed his eyes and blew out a rough breath, “But as I got older, she would… she would…”

  “Remy…”

  “No. I gotta do this.” He sat back upright when he realized he’d started to curl inwards, self-protectively, “Chrissy touched me. She touched me in a way a mother should never, ever, have touched her child and the worst part is… I responded.”

  The memories hit him hard and fast and he felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. He swiped a hand over his face and forced his breath in and out the way the Army shrink had taught him after his first tour. The old man had thought he was helping Remy deal with the deaths of his friends but he’d helped him with so much more than that. In and out, breathe. If you focus on the basics, you can’t think about the horrors.

  “You were a teenage boy.” Rachel said softly and she insisted on tugging on his hand until he gave it back to her, “You were a boy and it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know that. I do. I know that but still… there’s something sick about it. Chrissy… She’s my mo
m and I...” His voice broke and he shook his head.

  “Oh Remy.” Rachel whispered, tears in her voice that only made it harder for him to finish saying what he needed her to know.

  “I’ve tried to convince myself that it was teenage hormones. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was in the dark when she touched me… but I knew it was her. It made me sick. It scared the hell out of me. But I knew it was her and my body… I got… turned on.”

  “You were just a kid. You couldn’t help it. It was hormones, Remy. The only person in this story that’s sick is your… that woman.”

  He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and nodded. He knew that was true. He knew all of it was true. It hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t asked for it. He hadn’t let it happen. He’d been a kid and the drug-addicted adult in his home had taken advantage of him. But he’d had a decade to deal with it and he still couldn’t let it go.

  He thought it would haunt him forever.

  “I got away from her every time, before… before she could rape me… but I know it would have happened if I’d stayed in that house even a week longer. I got out the moment I turned eighteen. I got out and I wish I could say I never looked back but I did. I had to because I left Cash and Colt in that house with those monsters.”

  “Oh God.”

  “No. It wasn’t… she didn’t touch them.” Remy finally looked up, couldn’t let Rachel make that awful assumption, “She wasn’t the demon they had to deal with. Decker took that role for them. He was, is, a monster, just in a different way.”

  Rachel winced but nodded slightly, “I’ve heard some of what Colt went through from Skylar.”

  “Decker hated them before they were even born. He swears Chrissy was cheating on him and hell, maybe she was. I was young but Uncle Auto was around an awful lot looking back on it. It’s not unlikely he’s their real dad but that’s hardly the fault of the twins.”

  “You were all just kids.”

  “Decker, he was always tough on them but after I left it got worse. I wasn’t there to stand in the way anymore. To get them out. I left them there with those monsters.”