Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter Thirty-Four

Her vision narrowed with rage, zeroing in on this monster who’d just had the audacity to hurt her child. She leaped onto Dean’s back, scratching his face, kicking and punching him with everything she had. The pounding staccato rhythm of her beating heart drove her wild strikes, not giving either of them even a second to breathe. In the back of her mind, she barely registered that Thea had run off in tears, hopefully to get Naomi’s purse.

Dean fell back, landing on her against the dining table. A sharp stabbing sting into her skin made her hiss in pain and recoil her grip. It gave her the freedom to take a breath, but also made her realize how tired she was.

When he turned and grabbed her by the front of her dress, she gathered her strength and clawed down his arms and face. His fingers wrapped tightly around her bicep before once again slinging her into the wall. She choked on the air as it was knocked from her lungs until Dean’s hand gripped her neck, cutting off her inhale. Manic eyes narrowed into her gaze. His grip closed in and she felt history repeating itself as the room around her dimmed and spun.

“Get… off… me.” The words were whispered and so hoarse she wasn’t sure he heard until she was falling.

Lying on the ground, her hands shot up to her now bare throat to scratch at the air trying to force its way into her chest. She’d only just gotten her breath when sharp pricks to her scalp sent shooting pains down her spine as Dean grabbed her by the hair. He tugged her to the living room, forcing her to crawl backward and catch the furniture around her to help her balance. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stand upright, and yelped with every trip and fall. She finally snapped her hands up to his and held on, trying to minimize the damage.

“We’re gonna talk like fuckin’ civilized adults. Hash this out once and for all.” Dean gritted through his teeth. “No use in wastin’ anyone else’s time.”

All of a sudden, she found herself at the foot of the couch in their living room.

“Get up, sit down.”

Instead, she scrambled away, until she realized she’d backed herself into an empty corner of the room.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I’m trapped.

With no other ideas, she pulled off the one heel that had miraculously stayed on her foot and held it beside her. That way, if she needed to run, she could go barefoot.

He stalked toward her, his dead leafy eyes boring into her in a look she’d only seen one other time, two and a half months ago when she was sure he was trying to kill her.

When he reached her, he bent low, balancing on his heels with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands steepled in the middle.

“Why did you do this to us?”

Naomi’s eyes widened at his question. The sadness in his voice as it cracked while he asked it almost made her feel guilty. Almost. Then she remembered the bastard had almost killed her now on two occasions and had just pushed her daughter.

“Why did…” Unable to stop herself, she huffed out a laugh and his narrowed in response. “Why did I do this to us? Dean… you’re the one who is hurtin’ me, not the other way around.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “No. Physical pain ain’t nothin’ compared to what you’ve done to me. I knew you’d leave me for another man. I fuckin’ knew it, and yet here I am, still taking you back—”

“You blackmailed me back here! Do you really think this was my choice? To end up curled in a corner like a rat?”

She searched his face, trying to figure out if he truly believed the bullshit he was spewing. From what she could tell, he did. It was mind blowing that he’d been able to convince himself he was the victim in this situation.

“I didn’t want to have to do it that way, Naomi, but you left me no choice! You weren’t comin’ home. You weren’t takin’ my calls. What was I supposed to do?”

“Um, respect me? Leave me alone? Move on? Not fuckin’ attack me in the first place?”

He shook his head before threading his fingers through his dirty blond hair. “We were good together, sweets.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Why am I arguin’ with a man hell-bent on killin’ me?

Something that might’ve been pain swirled in his eyes. “We were. You just don’t remember it because you’ve insisted on creating this awful picture of me in your head. But look at yourself. You’re whorin’ around, tryin’ to deny what we have… I just… I need to know. With all them lies, you’ve convinced yourself I’m a monster. Do you think you could ever love me again?”

She swallowed, not wanting to admit the truth. He’d beaten her, made her live in fear, and conditioned her to make herself small. But even with all that, there was something inside her that didn’t want to hurt him, and honesty would either make him crack, crush him, or both.

Because the truth was that she’d never loved him. She had love for him, maybe, at one point in time, before he’d become the volatile monster he was now. But she’d never loved him.

Logic told her if she admitted that, she wouldn’t come out of this alive. Another part of her knew, though, if she wasn’t completely honest in that moment, he’d never leave her alone. And she was so goddamn sick of lying. It’d never gotten her anywhere but cornered.

“I loved the idea of Thea havin’ a father like mine—”

“The fuckin’ hero worship you have for that man is unhealthy, Naomi,” Dean growled out and she resisted pointing out how unhealthy their own relationship was. “Is that all you think it was? You just wanted a good dad for Thea?”

“I’ve never loved you, Dean…” At the heartbroken look in his eyes, she grimaced at her own words. “I-I’m sorry.”

He nodded slowly, swiping his hand down his face. “Right… Okay…” He stood from his crouched position and walked to the couch. Wait… not to the couch, to…

The safe.

It was underneath their side table for Dean to access easily if there ever was an intruder. Naomi stumbled to stand so she could flee, but didn’t make it in time, too stunned when the metal barrel was suddenly pointed at her.

“Sit down, sweets.”

No way in hell I’m doin’ that.

She stood straighter, holding on to her shoe for dear life like it was a shield. After one slow, measured breath, she dug the balls of her feet into the hardwood and ran full speed to the right, giving Dean a wide berth. But with her five feet, two inches against his six-foot stride, there was no hope of outrunning him.

One minute she was upright, the next she had an over two hundred pound man tackling her to the ground. Before she could register what was happening, Dean was already dragging her to the corner of the room again. He pulled her to standing and dug the cold barrel of his gun underneath her jaw.

Jules’s words from the day Naomi arrived at Sasha Saves rang in her head.

“A woman who’s been strangled by her significant other is seven hundred and fifty percent more likely to be murdered by the same person… with a gun.”

“I said… sit… down.”

A loud slam shook the house and Naomi trembled, at first thinking he’d shot her. But then quick, heavy footsteps resounded in the hallway and the metal under her chin eased away.

“Let her go.”

Wes’s voice was steel and Dean’s eyes held molten fire, threatening to burn to the ground everything that got in his way. He ground his teeth and turned around, pushing Naomi against the wall with his back. If he hadn’t just threatened her with a bullet, she would’ve taken the gesture as protective.

Naomi peered around Dean to see Wes’s blue-black hair tugged on end and his icy eyes cold enough to freeze her in her place. But not Dean. He raised his gun to put Wes in his sights, and to her horror, Wes wasn’t armed. He’d brought fists to a gunfight.

“Thea, close your eyes,” Wes commanded, but not unkindly.

Naomi darted her eyes to where Wes had glanced and saw the slatted closet door shut. When had she hidden there? Had she seen everything? The thought made her weaker than anything Dean had done to her yet.

“You must be the infamous Wes.” Dean spat out the name.

Wes didn’t say anything, his eyes were almost in a faraway state, like he’d gone somewhere else.

“Come on, what do you have to say?” Dean challenged, but Wes continued to just stare at him. His mind was working, Naomi could see that. Fists clenched and unclenched. Jaw muscles ticced… but what was he doing?

“Fine then” —Dean released the safety— “there’s more than one bullet in here anyway—”

“No!” Naomi shouted and brought her heel to his head, blindly stabbing. Whatever she’d hit gave way and she swallowed back bile. Dean screamed, holding his neck with his hand while still somehow maintaining a grip on his gun. Blood spurted in her vision, leaving Naomi stunned, but still somehow able to realize the opportunity she had right in front of her.

As if they’d choreographed it, Naomi reached for the gun at the same time Wes leaped toward Dean, pushing him to the ground and striking him with his fists.

She shuffled backward, gun in hand, until she bumped into the couch.

More thumping behind her made her turn around to see Hawk and Devil entering the room from the foyer.

“Please… get Thea,” Naomi yelled over the commotion, pointing at the closet and breathing a sigh of relief when Hawk nodded.

Devil came to her side and Naomi watched with a strange mix of horror, fascination, and gratitude as Wes fought for her. Dean was attempting to give back everything he got, but Wes was obviously the better fighter. After one particularly harsh strike to his bloody neck, Dean collapsed.

“Wes,” she called, needing him to come to her. Hold her. Soothe away the adrenaline, pain, and fear coursing through her.

But the Wes in front of her was singularly focused. He’d gotten down on his knees and was punching a thrashing Dean. A demented, broken part of her loved it, finding a thrill in seeing the man who’d tormented her for years and made her baby girl cry finally meet his karmic retribution. But another part of her saw the consequences play out for Wes, too.

Naomi’s eyes widened as Dean’s face and body slackened beneath him.

“Fuck, he’s gonna kill him,” Devil murmured, taking a step forward, no longer holding her back, something she hadn’t even realized he was doing.

Sirens in the distance snapped her out of her thoughts and before she could think, she ran up to Wes and jumped on his back. Whispering soothing words in his ear, he immediately went rigid underneath her. She held on, her arms clinging to his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, hanging on for dear life as she talked him down.

“It’s okay, Wes. It’s okay. Come back to me.”

She whispered the words over and over and over, hoping they’d reach through the haze to the calm, rational, caring man she’d come to know. She’d recognized the look on his face. Deep-seated anger boiled within him, threatening to take over reason. She’d had the same thoughts when she was defending Thea, and now they’d taken over him.

Wes fell back against his calves and wrapped his arms behind him awkwardly, holding on to her sides. She rose and fell with his breaths as he slowly stood. It wasn’t until he’d taken a few steps away from Dean that she slid down. As soon as her feet were on the floor, though, he turned and wrapped her up in his arms, bringing her flush to his chest in his embrace.

He kissed her hard against the cheek, his breaths still coming in spurts and continued to back away until his back hit the wall.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Naomi. I just… seeing him… with you? Fuck, I was gone. I wasn’t here. I-it wasn’t him. In my head, it wasn’t him. But it was still you. I thought he was going to—”

“It’s okay. I’m safe.”

She didn’t know what he’d meant, but it didn’t matter at that moment. Dean couldn’t get to her with Wes there and Wes had just proved to her that even at his worst moments, she was literally safe in his arms.

All of a sudden, the living room flooded with officers in uniforms and EMTs. A few went straight to Dean, where she realized Devil was already administering first aid.

“Why the fuck is he helpin’ Dean?” she asked, all compassion for the man who attacked her daughter completely out the window. He’d made a grave mistake putting his hands on Thea. Now Naomi would come at him with everything she had to keep him away.

“Because if he dies, I’ll probably get locked up.” Wes’s words came out matter of fact, but still sent a frisson of panic down her spine. He must’ve felt it because he squeezed even harder. “It’s okay… you stopped me. They’ll likely say it’s in defense of others.”

She pulled away to look into his eyes. “But Dean’s got friends on the force… what if—”

“We do too, Naomi. Shh, don’t worry about me. It’ll be okay. Let’s go get Thea and get you guys home.”

Home.

For the first time in a long, long time, that word finally had meaning.