Page 3 of No Apologies
“Nah, nothing like that.” Lincoln answered with an easy shrug, “We’re just being safe.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Uh huh.” He repeated suspiciously.
“Do I look worried?” Lincoln grinned and Colt snorted.
“You never look worried.”
“Exactly.” His cousin pushed back to his full height, grin firmly in place, “So, tonight. Be there about nine. You’re goin in first to shut it down fast. One fight. Knock him out and then you can go on home and you won’t have to hear from me again.”
“Yeah, until the next time you need me to send a message with my fists.”
“Hey, you’re almost paid up. You’ll be done soon enough. Besides…” Lincoln shot him a hard look, “You know you like it. The anticipation and the rush of adrenaline. The roar of the crowd and the feel of breaking another man’s bones. You’re gonna miss it when you’re done.”
“Bullshit.”
“Uh huh.” It was Lincoln’s turn to snort his disbelief, “Just be there tonight yeah?”
Though it was phrased as a question, he didn’t have much choice so Colt nodded, “Yeah.”
“Good. I’ll see ya tonight.”
“Yeah, now get outta my shop.”
Lincoln chuckled again and backed away slowly, hands in the air in an imaginary show of defeat. He’d gotten what he came for, that was the only reason he was leaving. Colt wasn’t naïve enough to think that he’d won anything because there was no winning with his family.
“Hey now, remember it’s still half mine until you pay off that debt, Cuz.”
He scowled when Lincoln winked as if it were a joke. It wasn’t. He knew better. It was a not so subtle reminder to watch his tone and his place. Lincoln cut him a lot of slack because they were related but he would only be pushed so far. The backtalking and threats were acceptable, but only in private. Doing it in public would not be conducive to his good health or the pristine tattoo studio they were standing in.
For about the millionth time, Colt cursed himself for accepting Lincoln’s money and using some of it to open Fine Lines. Taking his money had been the opposite of walking away from the family business. If Colt took the dirty money he had to do the dirty deeds that went along with it. But he’d needed that money, Cash had needed it, and Lincoln was the only one that had offered.
So far he’d never asked for all that much in return. A couple of fights a month in the underground MMA style matches their cousin Abel ran had worked off most of his debt. He was a sure thing in any fight, had never lost, and with Lincoln backing him the money they raked in almost made it worth it.
A few times his cousin had asked him for more serious favors but he told himself that he’d never broken any major laws to sleep at night. He’d never been more than a driver or a threat in the background. He liked to believe that meant he couldn’t get in too much trouble if he were ever caught but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that made him innocent.
He operated in a gray area that most people didn’t have. Cash and his girl Jemma, normal people, they lived in the white. Decker, Lincoln and the rest of the Bomars lived almost entirely in the black. He was somewhere in the middle and that was something he’d learned to accept.
If somebody had to bridge that gap, it was him. Maybe someday he’d be able to cross over to the other side with Cash. But not until he’d erased his debt and struck the Bomars from his life once and for all. Until then, he waded back and forth, trying to work his way through hell without forfeiting his right to heaven.
As if to prove that he was still very much in his own personal hell, the door chimed again seconds after Lincoln stepped out of it. Colt glanced up and felt his smile drop before he could stop it. The man coming towards him didn’t deserve that reaction, not at all, but if he noticed Colt’s less than warm greeting, he didn’t let it show.
“Hey man!”
“Hey Trey.” He nodded, forcing his smile firmly back into place as if they were old friends, as if he didn’t hate his guts, as if he didn’t contemplate breaking his face each and every time he saw him.
Just because the guy was dating the girl of Colt’s dreams didn’t mean he couldn’t be civil. Trey wasn’t a bad guy. God knew she could do a lot worse. Hell, she’d be doing a lot worse if she chosehim.
“You got an appointment?” He smiled politely as the other guy strolled closer. “I didn’t think I had you on the books today.”
“Nah, that’s why I’m here. I was passing by and thought I’d see if you had time to work on that back piece.”
“Sorry man, not today.”
Trey glanced around the empty shop and Colt bit the inside of his cheek. Too fast. Too harsh. He was running a business and Trey had been a good client in the months since he’d moved to town. His personal dislike of the guy had nothing to do with finishing the tattoo on his back.
