Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers

Prologue

“Mommy, is he still followin’ us?”

Thea’s timid whisper battered into Naomi’s heart, the pain in her chest somehow worse than the wounds swelling on her face. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see her four-year-old daughter trying her damnedest to see out her window and the back windshield.

Naomi searched the road behind them, but her fiancé’s white Corolla was nowhere in sight. She’d been circling the women’s shelter for what felt like hours, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes and she hadn’t seen him in the past few turns. She’d called the shelter to tell them she was coming, but she needed to throw him off the scent first. She knew all the back alleys and shortcuts in Ashland County’s small city center. It wasn’t the first time she’d sought out Sasha Saves.

Naomi found a covert flyer in a diner bathroom on her lunch break a few days ago. She’d checked out the center’s website afterward, but got spooked when her fiancé made one of his impromptu visits at work. Thankfully, the site had instructed her to press the “Escape” button twice to quickly change the screen, but she’d been too scared to research on the computer again after that. Ever since then, she’d used her lunch hour to scout out the thrift store that was supposedly a front for the crisis center. She’d been trying to muster up the courage to go inside, to convince herself that it was time, that she was finally done with him.

It’d been months since his last blowup, but last week Dean slammed her into the driver’s side of his Corolla hard enough to cause a dent. She’d pretended to shake it off at the time, even though she could tell something inside him was brewing. Of course, he’d been nicer after that, but for once, instead of basking in his overcompensating kindness, she’d used his leniency to her advantage to scope out possible means of escape.

Dean had been a security supervisor for a global tech company for a while, but was more stressed than usual at work lately, more liable to fly off the handle. The way he’d shoved her days earlier was an escalation they hadn’t had in months, and Naomi had known it was only a matter of time before his mood took another nosedive. Unfortunately, that morning had proved her right.

Naomi glanced to the back seat again. She wasn’t sure how Thea even knew her father was following them, but kids were perceptive like that sometimes.

After a painful swallow, Naomi answered despite her sore throat. “I-I think your daddy’s gone to work, now, baby. You don’t need to worry ‘bout him, ‘kay? Everything’s gonna be just fine, T.”

Her words came out as a hoarse whisper and hazel-green eyes brimming with tears and childlike understanding met hers. One leaked down her sweet baby girl’s round alabaster cheek as she blinked back at Naomi and nodded.

Naomi tore her focus away from the droplet of emotion, afraid of what she’d do if she kept witnessing the emotional toil her relationship was having on Thea. She couldn’t go back on her resolve. Not this time. Whenever Dean took his stress out on her, her usual course of action meant hiding in shame in her bedroom and licking her wounds. After that morning, she didn’t know how long she was gonna last if she kept that up.

Naomi wished she could explain the situation to Thea. But what could she possibly say? How did she explain that the man who was supposed to be the shining knight in her daughter’s fairy tales was the monster in her own?

She’d already called out of work for the day, and judging by the way her swollen eyes burned every time she tried to blink, Naomi would probably have to call out the rest of the week too.

Her boss would understand, or at least she wouldn’t question it. Gail Haynesworth had enough to deal with as CEO of Charitable Technologies International, the same company Dean worked security for. As her assistant, as long as Naomi was connected to her laptop and phone at all times, Gail didn’t pry. Mediating two company employees in a relationship would be messy and well beneath her pay grade.

A honk brought Naomi’s focus back to the road and she slammed on the brakes. She’d almost run into the car in front of her, totally missing that the light was red. At least, Naomi assumed from all the stopped cars that the light must be red. Her eyelids were so swollen behind her sunglasses that she could hardly see.

No more playin’. It’s time to finally get help.

Deciding to suck it up once and for all and bare the secrets that scarred her inside and out, Naomi searched the street for an open parking space, miraculously finding one just behind the pale nondescript building.

Perfect.

As soon as she pulled into the available spot, between a light purple Chevy Spark and a black Ford truck, Naomi leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, inhaling and exhaling to center herself.

She was going to do it. Really do it this time. Come clean with someone about what went on behind closed doors. The attacks had no rhyme or reason now and she needed to get out.

Just that morning, they’d both been getting ready to leave for work, Thea for preschool, and it’d only taken one sassy comment and he’d been spittin’ mad.

The first punch had taken her by surprise. He’d never hit her in the face before and she’d been so disoriented she hadn’t even registered what happened afterward until he started choking her. Something about that, in particular, set off alarm bells in her head that narrowed her focus to the moment and she’d been able to scramble away.

But the most terrifying part of the argument was the look of horror on Dean’s face. His lightly tanned skin had turned a sickly pale as he stared at his own hands, as if what he’d done to her was their fault instead of his. As if in that moment he’d had no agency over his emotions or decisions.

The apologies he’d laid at her feet had sounded sincere, but fuckall to apologies. At this point, she’d just filed it away with all his others. His shock and remorse over his own actions had given her no comfort. It meant he’d lose control again and now neither of them knew what he was capable of. The thought made her feel dizzy. Or maybe that was the pounding in her head.

Dean was the man she’d said yes to marrying. At the time, she’d convinced herself that the father of her child was supposed to be the love of her life. That’s what she’d been taught by her parents, at least.

Too bad it’d never been that way with Dean. Their relationship was more about the life she yearned for, rather than the life she was living. It was devastating to think she’d been suffering for a dream. But it’d be soul-crushing—and judging from that morning, life-threatening—to stay in a relationship that barely survived on false apologies and broken promises.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket for the hundredth time and Naomi took it out to finally check the messages there. Twenty-seven calls and voice messages, and forty-three text messages, all from Dean Jones in the couple of hours since she’d lost him while driving.

She thumbed through them all, opting not to listen to the voice messages and barely registering the text messages until the last.

Dean: I have to go to work. Please be there when I come home. I’ll go to therapy this time, I promise. I’m so sorry sweets. Please forgive me. Know I love you.

She cringed at the apology and the god-awful nickname that came with it, but even still, hope slithered its way into Naomi’s soul.

Therapy. This was a good thing. He’d never offered that before. Maybe… maybe that would help.

Naomi lifted her head to see the pale brick building. Inside was the Sasha Saves crisis center, her safe haven. But her heart lodged in her throat at the thought of opening the doors to her defenses and spilling her secrets for everyone to see. Once she did, the path would be set for her and she’d have to see it through, ending life as she knew it. Ending the dream of a happy family, just like the one she grew up in and craved again. Ending any possibility of a fairy tale of her own.

She was about to break free, so why did she feel more trapped than ever?