Breaking Conviction by Greer Rivers
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I’ll be back,” he whispered against her lips before leaving a chaste kiss. He reluctantly peeled himself away to dispose of the second condom of the night, making sure to dampen a hand towel with warm water before he left the bathroom. When he came back, he paused when her head tilted in confusion.
“Oh, um… thanks.” She tried to grab the towel, but Wes took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“Let me take care of you.”
With a slow nod, she leaned back and let him tend to her, the whole time visibly trying not to close her legs.
“I was just inside you, love. Why are you acting shy?”
She bit her lips and even in the dim light, he could tell she was blushing. “I, um… I’ve just, uh, never done this part before. It’s usually me doin’ it by myself. It feels intimate.” He began to pull back the cloth, but she wrapped her hand around his wrist, keeping him still. “No, I love it. It’s just new to me.”
Her confession gave him a strange mix of disgust and pride. Disgust at the man who didn’t treasure the beauty and strength in the woman in front of him when he had her, and pride that she was giving Wes the chance. There was no way he was going to squander it.
He cleaned her until her trembling told him his ministrations were becoming torture on her sensitive flesh. After he tossed the hand towel into the hamper, he grabbed some gym shorts and joined her in bed, not knowing how long she’d give him before she went back to her room to sleep with Thea.
He scooped his arm underneath her neck and pulled her chest to his side. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her so tight that other than their clothes, there wasn’t room for even a breath of air between them.
Taking in Naomi’s curvy body, he frowned at the flowing dress still covering most of it.
“Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Did what?” she asked, apprehension filling her voice.
“This…” He indicated her body with a nod. “I had a beautiful woman in my bed and didn’t even get the chance to admire her without her clothes on. If it weren’t for the fact that I know I ripped your panties off, you could very well pass for being fully clothed right now.”
Her response was in that delightful laugh he adored, but she sobered before she spoke and the words on her warm breath raised goose bumps on his skin.
“I might look fully clothed, but I feel stripped bare by you, Wes.”
Although he wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by her confession or what emotion fueled it, he didn’t think regret laced her words until she spoke again.
“I saw you brutally beat up my ex tonight. That was… hard to see.” Dread filled his chest and he opened his mouth to reply, only she beat him to it. “But I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”
He realized for the first time that he hadn’t known what he was walking into when he’d arrived home. The way she’d reacted with Ascot was completely different than now and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.
He dragged his mouth over her soft, dark auburn hair and smoothed it down before tracing her spine, afraid she was going to bolt on him. “You’re not… mad at me? You don’t think I’m a monster?”
“No.” Warm moisture dropped onto his naked chest and he lifted his head to see a thin trail of tears tracking down her light ivory cheek. “You saved me and you saved Thea.”
“Well, you had a hand in that. Or a shoe, I guess, if we’re being technical.”
“Ugh, too soon.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, sorry. You’re right.”
“But it’s not just that. I don’t think you’re a monster because… because you stopped.”
“What do you mean, I ‘stopped’?”
“As soon as I jumped on your back, you stopped mid-swing. It was like your body just knew I was there and then I had my Wes back. Even in the midst of a fight, you were able to keep it together to keep me out of danger. That, more than anything else, told me I’m safe with you.”
Wes nodded, understanding where she was coming from. Being around people who didn’t know whether they were hitting friend or foe was more than dangerous. It was deadly.
Fighting was a lot of things, sometimes violent and senseless, but sometimes necessary and purposeful. Knowing when to throw a punch was just as important as knowing when to pull one.
“The injuries you saw on Ascot, they were a mistake. I let my emotions get in the way, but I would never let them interfere with your safety. And I can promise you I’m working on it. I’ve gone to therapy for years. I thought I’d gotten better, but obviously being back in the field has made me realize I need a few—erm, a lot—more sessions.”
“Can I ask you something?” Her fingernails tracing his pec made him shiver, and he barely resisted the urge to flip her on her back and have his way with her again. But when her finger paused, he remembered she was expecting an answer.
“Anything, my queen. I am your humble servant.”
She snorted at his affected speech and he could almost feel her roll her eyes at him. Her fingers traveled up the tattooed snake on his chest, spiraling down its coils all the way to where it bit the inked version of the heart that beat so strongly for her.
“Can you tell me where your rage comes from?” Her whisper was light, but he heard it. It was the conversation he’d been avoiding since the day he met her at Sasha Saves. On some deep level, he’d known even then that at some point he was going to have to bare his soul to her.
Now that she was in his bed, away from that maniac of an ex, he wanted nothing more than to share his story with her. Hopefully, his past would solidify her decision to stay well and away from that lunatic.
“Okay, here goes.” He blew out a breath. “My mom was the most beautiful, kindest woman in the whole world.”
“Was?” The whisper against his bare chest made him shiver, but he couldn’t stop. If she wanted this story, he was going to have to say it all in one fell swoop.
“She was short and round, the perfect size to run up to and wrap my hands around her waist and clasp them behind her back. Her voice was soft and gentle, never said an unkind word to anyone. Not even the man who deserved it most. She was pure, and whole, and good, and everything anyone would ever want in a parent. But my dad… was not.
“Everything my mother was, my dad was the opposite. Selfish, jealous, manipulative. No one knew what was going on behind closed doors, and as a kid, that just didn’t make any sense to me. We weren’t allowed to talk about what happened when my dad got mad, but I never understood how no one knew. It seemed obvious as fuck to me. Now I realize they might’ve been avoiding the truth just like we were.”
“What was going on behind closed doors?”
“My dad. He’d… beat on my mom. When he had a job, he’d come home from work late, already drunk somehow, and let loose on her. Living like that was like walking on eggshells all the time.”
“Yeah, except the eggshells are shards of broken glass.”
His huff of laughter was cynical even to his own ears. “Exactly. Anyway, my sister and I would beg my mom to leave, but she never would. My aunt said she tried to leave him once before she had me, but she found out she was pregnant with me and believed it was too late. Mom was convinced a boy needed his father.”
Naomi shivered against his chest, and he wondered if she understood too well.
“I was my mother’s anchor and my father’s weapon. Whenever she had the chance to swim to safety, he used me to tug her back down, drowning her with threats of stealing her child away. By the time my sister came along, my mother’s will to fight was already gone.
“That last night, my father was in worse form than usual. He’d just gotten laid off again, and he was taking it out verbally on me and my sister before my mom got home from work. When she did, he picked a literal fight with her. She never fought back. In the end, she excelled at being silent and had learned to make herself small in every aspect of her life. Her cowering in the corner of our kitchen was the epitome of what that man had made her become.
“I don’t know why that night broke me, but I snapped. He was going in on her, and I jumped in to defend her. But I was a ten-year-old kid against a man who’d been honing his ‘craft’ my entire life. He knocked me good, forcing me to the side. Fear and anger drove me after that. I kept trying to go back at him, but he swatted me away each time. Her screams were worse than I’d ever heard. He’d just kept shouting over her to be quiet all the while landing hits on her until… until she wasn’t screaming anymore.”
Wes closed his eyes against the memory, but all he could see was the man who was supposed to be his family’s protector, staring at the broken heap that had once been Wes’s mom.
Even decades later, he couldn’t get away from the image. He saw that man in the mirror every day. His mom had always said he was the spitting image of his father. Stretching out his hand, he watched his inked skin roll with the veins underneath as he clenched a fist. At least the tattoos helped disguise the monster of his past.
“My sister called 911. After that, things went pretty fast. We went to my aunt’s. My dad did the one good thing he’s ever done in his life and turned himself in. He got sent to prison for the rest of his life, which turned out to be not even half the amount he’d tortured my mother for. He died of liver failure a few years in. Too good a death for a man like that.”
“Is that why you don’t go to Sasha Saves? Is… is that why you kept asking me why I wouldn’t leave?”
Wes nodded. “Yeah, I think going to Sasha Saves that day, seeing your injuries, it woke some anger in me that I thought I’d taken care of. Obviously I haven’t, but I’m going to reach out to the therapist my aunt got for me and my sister. I’ve had him forever. It’ll be good to check back in.”
Naomi nodded. “I’m sorry, Wes. I had no idea.”
He scooted them up onto his pillows, giving himself a better angle before tipping her chin back. “It’s a part of my past that I can’t get back. I miss my mother. I don’t think I could take it if a man like my father took your future, too.”
Naomi shook her head, but not enough to break contact with his finger. “He won’t. I’m done.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Officers said they’re going to charge Dean with felony domestic violence. He could get up to twenty years. Are you going to prosecute?”
She swallowed before nodding. “Yeah, it’s time. I gave him too many chances as it is. I pretended that fairy tales existed, but it was a nightmare. He hurt Thea tonight and I lost my shit. I need for him to be held accountable so at the very least I can make sure he stays clear of me and my daughter.”
Wes nodded, appeased by her answer, but only time would truly tell.
“I know you don’t believe me. I’m sure you think I’ll go back to him, like most survivors do. But I promise I’m done letting him chain me down. I’ve finally broken free, and I’m never letting that monster cage me again.”
