No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1) by Jess Bryant Page B

Colt held his hands up innocently, “So, this guy that knocked you around, you somehow managed to incapacitate him and get away?”
    “Yeah. I broke a lap over his head. He was unconscious and bleeding on the floor when I grabbed my stuff and left.”
    She felt a strange sense of pride when Colt gave her a thumbs up. She’d taken care of herself. Maybe it had been a little too late, but she’d done it. Even still, the memory of Hoyt forcing her down onto the bed, his big body holding her down, made her nauseous. It had taken everything in her to reach for that lamp and bring it down on his skull. If she hadn’t been able to reach it, if she hadn’t managed to knock him out, she shuddered when she thought about what he would have done.
    “Jesus.” Cash scratched his jaw, “You didn’t tell me that last night.”
    She shrugged. It hadn’t come up. She hadn’t wanted to relive her worst nightmare. She still didn’t. Because Colt had no idea the sensitive area he had tread into with nothing more than an innocent question but Cash did. She’d told him about Hoyt, about what he’d done, about what he’d tried to do. And she hated that flash of pity that showed through his eyes when he looked back at her.
    “Was he breathing?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Good.”
    “Good?” Her eyebrows rose, her mind unable to process why the man that had offered to kill Hoyt would be worried about him all of a sudden.
    “Yeah, good sweetheart.” Colt wiped milk from his upper lip with the back of his hand, “If he’s breathing, you can’t go to jail for murder. No offense, I know orange is the new black and all, but I don’t think it’s your color.”
    The air in her lungs clogged. She hadn’t even thought about that. She’d tried not to think about Hoyt at all after she got away from him. She’d been so focused on moving forward, on putting one foot in front of the other, figuring out her next move, and holding herself together, that she hadn’t paused to even think about what he was doing.
    He’d had an entire day to process his anger and figure out a way to get back at her. Did he know where she was? She’d run home to Oklahoma, not exactly to Antarctica. Had he frozen the bank account? It was joint and he was the primary. Had he reported the Jeep as stolen? It was in both their names too. Or had he foregone all of that and gone straight to the police to accuse her of assault?
    “Oh God…” Her stomach turned and she curled up into a ball.
    She wouldn’t put it past him. He was controlling and self-righteous. He was also prideful. She’d hurt him and left him and if people found out he would look like an idiot or worse, like the abusive piece of shit he actually was. Every fight they’d ever had, he’d managed to turn back around so that the blame firmly rested on her shoulders, why hadn’t she thought about any of this?
    “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”
    “Hey, it’s okay.” Cash was at her side suddenly, a big hand resting on her shoulder as he eased down on the couch next to her, “We’ll figure this out.”
    “He’s going to blame me for this, turn it back on me somehow, that’s what he does.” She felt her bottom lip tremble and hated the flash of tears that accompanied it.
    “He can try, but he’s not going to win.” He pulled her into his side and she went willingly.
    “He always wins.”
    “Not this time.”
    “But…”
    “Not. This. Time.” Cash tilted her face up with a gentle finger under her chin, “You’re not alone. I’m going to help you through this. I told you that and I meant it. Understand?”
    He touched her as if she was fragile glass, apt to shatter, but even still, the current that moved between them was hot and electric. She felt it. She’d felt it last night when she was warm from the whiskey and she’d wanted to wrap herself up in him. If she’d wanted to chalk it up to alcohol, this moment, this one right here, thoroughly proved her wrong.
    His eyes darted to her