Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter One

Getting treated in the Sasha Saves clinic went by in a blur, both literally and the time she spent there. When Naomi finally gathered the courage to go inside, her eyes were so swollen she could barely see. Thankfully, she’d been escorted through the thrift store to the medical room by the nonprofit’s manager, Nora, a chatterbox who talked like Twitter and was even smaller than Naomi’s five feet, two inches.

Each moment that passed, Naomi couldn’t shake the feeling that her body was acting on autopilot. It was the oddest sensation, watching from outside her body, and she wondered briefly whether she’d been concussed. But no… this felt emotional, maybe even mental, not physical. A break from the present. She didn’t hate the numbness.

Nora asked questions. The clinic medic, a giant named Devil of all things, gave her ice and cleansed her wounds with surprising gentleness for a man with his size and name. Thea screeched at the top of her lungs. It was chaos, but she barely registered it.

On the outside, she was doing just fine answering questions and going through the motions. Inside, she was still in shock that she was in a fucking domestic violence clinic.

How did I let this happen? What am I doing here?

Thea’s little body clutching against Naomi’s legs finally broke down the courage she’d shored up in the car.

Maybe that’s why she lied.

“Can you tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

The pretty blonde who’d taken Nora’s place, Ellie, snapped Naomi back into a conscious state of awareness. She was only a few hours into her attempt to get help for the first time and already she hated everything. That stupid question, the kind young woman asking the stupid question, her disaster of a fiancé for putting her into this situation.

At least Thea had finally calmed down and sat on a beanbag in the corner of the room, eyes glued to an iPad. Unfortunately, her screeches still played on repeat in Naomi’s head, drowning out reason.

“Bike accident.”

Lie… Lie. Lie. Lie. Please see that I’m lying.

Damn it all, she might’ve hated everything at that moment, but what she hated most was herself. She had this chance to finally regain control over her life and here she was, wasting it.

Why the hell can’t I tell her the truth?

In absolutely no world would anyone believe that her obvious black eyes and fingerprint bruises on her neck were due to a fucking bike accident. Like… what the actual fuck was she thinking? The main character in the horror movie she was watching was making a grave mistake, and the only thing Naomi could do was internally shout at the screen.

At this point, she just wanted to get the extra-strength ibuprofen and leave. Her head was pounding so hard she seriously considered skipping the medicine and instead taking Devil’s pen and stabbing it into her temple to relieve the pressure inside.

Ellie was obviously trying her best to convince her to open up, and honest to God if she was going to share her fears and burdens with anyone it’d be this angel in front of her, but Devil didn’t seem to want to let it go.

“Numerous contusions… petechial hemorrhaging… lacerations… closed fist… swelling… orbital areas…”

Each word another punch right to her chest. She desperately wanted to scream the truth, but whoever was in control had apparently decided to waste everyone’s time, and once again, the words bubbled up without her permission.

“It was an accident.”

Ellie tried to reason with her, but Naomi was on a self-destructive roll and she argued back again, coming up with even more nonsense for the bullshit story.

“Thea and I were ridin’ our bikes and… uh… hers swerved into mine. I crashed onto the ground.” She hated the way her voice lilted up at the end, like she was questioning herself. But the more they pushed, the more she instinctively felt the need to shove back.

An indecipherable look flashed over the giant’s face before he spoke, his large hand scrubbing his short strawberry blond beard. “You have the opportunity to get help for you and your daughter, don’t you want to take it?”

There wasn’t any judgment in his tone, only concern, but the words set off a boiling hot rage. It burned underneath her skin, as if every emotion she kept hidden from Dean finally had a chance to explode in this controlled environment, despite the fact these people didn’t deserve it.

Even knowing on some level he was just doing his job, just trying to do what’s best for everyone, fear of the consequences, lack of control, and instinct to protect her life as she knew it, took over.

“Are you sayin’ I’m a bad mother?”

“Absolutely not, Naomi. We don’t think that.” Ellie’s eyes were wide and earnest as she answered, but only a Band-Aid over the wounds these people weren’t responsible for. “If your injuries need to come from a bike accident, then that’s where they’re from.”

If my injuries need to come from a bike accident...

With one simple sentence, Ellie told Naomi they knew she was full of shit, but that they were trusting her to make her own decisions. The weight of her situation was lifted by the gravity of that freedom and for the first time in years, the tightness in her chest loosened and she didn’t feel like she was suffocating.

They weren’t going to force her to come clean. According to Ellie, they weren’t even going to report it as long as Thea was safe.

For once, in a twisted way, Naomi had power over the situation. This clinic was giving her the opportunity to save herself with their assistance when she was ready, and the freedom of choice to decide all on her own when that would be.

Because what if this was Dean’s wake-up call? It was certainly hers and that alarm was motivating her to seek options. Would that morning be the last time he put his hands on her? Maybe they could finally be the family they were supposed to be for Thea.

Sure, Naomi wouldn’t have the love for Dean that her parents showed for one another before her daddy died. That ship had long since sailed on the stormy seas that had been their relationship. But if he fixed himself, she could make do. Especially for Thea. T deserved to have her father. No matter what Dean had done to Naomi, he’d still been good to Thea. Not great, but… good.

A crash at the medical room door zapped every nerve ending, setting fire to Naomi’s flight response until it registered that the others in the room had relaxed.

She swiveled her head and even in her half-blurred vision, she could tell the intruder was handsome—no, freaking gorgeous. He had navy blue hair and silver streaks, dyed so naturally that it looked like he’d been born with it, and carried boxes—of wires, maybe?—in front of him like it was nothing. His tight black Henley shirt accentuated the corded muscles in his arms and the black ink of his tatted fingers and neck.

I wonder what else is tatted...

Moisture pooled in her mouth and Naomi cursed herself for honest to God drooling over a man. In a domestic violence shelter, for crying out loud. But truly, who could blame her? She’d take any distraction she could get to avoid thinking about the pain still radiating through her body and why she sat on a patient’s examination table.

Plus, she’d always been a total sucker for tattoos. Dean’s were half the reason she’d fallen into his bed just before her junior year of college. The other half had been equal parts sophomore recklessness and cheap bar tequila. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson in both. Good Lord knows she’d never had a lick of that devil water since, but here she was pining over another man pretty much solely on his ink.

Naomi blinked back her stare and moved her gaze up to take in more than just the man’s muscular body to see his pale face blushing beet red all the way from his neck to his black rectangular glasses. He sure knew how to rock the whole tatted Clark Kent vibe, but from his kind eyes, she wondered if he even knew how much his presence commanded the room. Naomi was drawn to those piercing baby blues… until she realized he was consciously refusing to look at her.

Devil huffed. “Snake, I know you’re not used to coming to Sasha Saves, but you can’t barge in like that.”

Snake? His name is literally Snake? For the love of God, who is naming these people?

He had yet to look at her and she didn’t understand the mix of feelings roiling in her belly at that realization. Was it frustration? Disappointment? Maybe Dean had hit her harder than she thought, because her emotions were either nonexistent or all over the damn place and she was sick of the roller coaster.

“I, uh, I know. I’m sorry.” Snake’s baritone soothed her irritation… which the realization, of course, made her irritated all over again. She was about to open her mouth to interrupt, but her breath hitched the moment his bright blue eyes met hers. “I’m here to upgrade the security for the pla—shit.”

The twisted look of disgust on Snake’s face concentrated all her contradictory and confusing emotions into one unmistakable feeling.

Shame.