Page 39 of Breaking Conviction
The silence in the car was deafening, and he could hear her swallow. “You don’t know me, Wes.”
His name on her tongue sent electric desire straight down his spine, traveling to his shaft, but it mattered more that he might’ve cracked one of her thick walls. “I know enough, Naomi. I know the woman I like. The woman I wish I could spend more time with… I think you wish you could spend more time with that woman, too.”
She bent her head low, avoiding having the rest of the conversation. But it didn’t matter. He’d said what he needed to say and they were already at Sasha Saves. He rolled up beside her Nissan and parked his vehicle, waiting for her to talk.
His Jeep was off for a long minute before she spoke in a low voice.
“I-I wasn’t always like this... pissed off and second-guessing everything. It took that last time to realize I’ve become someone I don’t want to be. Someone I don’t like. I had a vision for my life, of who I want to be and I-I’m tryin’ to find that woman again. It’s just takin’ time.”
Her tears crashed to her lap, making Wes feel like an asshole, but hell did he like seeing some kind of emotion on her. It was way better than the numb automaton that always arrived at Sasha Saves. Over the shift, she lowered those steel walls, only to raise them back up again before she left.
Wes grabbed her phone from her hand, entered his phone number and gave it back to her.
“Now you have my number. It’s under “Sasha Saves - W,” and I expect you to call me if you ever need me, okay?”
Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded, and before he could stop himself, he lifted her hand from her lap and held it between both of his. His heart stuttered when she squeezed instead of tugging away.
“I’m here for you, Naomi. If you ever need me. I know you can do what’s right for you. I know the glimpses of the fiery, confident, smart, caring woman you are, is a fucking queen in her own right and I know you can be her again.”
Naomi nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek. She missed one and without even thinking, Wes reached and caught it with his thumb. With a small shy smile, she slowly withdrew her hand.
“I hope you meet her someday. I think she’d like you.”
Wes grinned, hoping she saw his genuine excitement at that idea. “I’m counting on it, love.”
Chapter Fifteen
The next two days were a whirlwind, and some of the busiest and most rewarding in Naomi’s life. She’d had no idea what more the BlackStone Crew would ask of her to help with the Ashland Elite Scholarship Party. Going over the guest lists from the past few years was easy enough and she wanted to help as much as possible, but she had Thea to worry about. Not to mention her father.
She thumbed over the empty skin where her engagement ring had been. She’d taken it off months ago, after one of their big blowups, and if Dean had noticed, he was keeping it to himself. But there was no telling how much longer that reprieve would be. She’d learned a while back, though, not to question his good moods. It made them seem that much shorter.
Naomi told her boss, Gail, that Dean needed her to stay home and watch Thea. Gail hadn’t cared one bit that Naomi wasn’t going to the party, even lamenting that she didn’t have an excuse to get out of it, too.
What Gail didn’t know was Naomi had been just outside the hotel as the BlackStone Crew successfully saved eight trafficking victims. Wes had asked Naomi to pick up Nora in order to meet the women at the hospital and Naomi had jumped at the chance.
She’d helped Nora talk to each one of the women as a victim advocate, or survivor advocate, as Nora had reminded her. They held hands with eight different women during the process of giving their statement. She supported the few who chose to get rape kits done and assisted Nora in finding the few who had families. None of the women were from Ashland, so they’d ended up having to search all over the southeast. Finally, Naomi and Nora helped set the kidnapped victims on the very beginning paths of rejoining the world as free survivors.
Unfortunately, that all meant that Naomi had lied more than she ever had in her life. She wasn’t sure how convincing she’d managed to be when she told Dean an abridged version of her part in the raid at the hotel and why she’d come home late. He’d seemed oddly preoccupied himself, barely looking up from his phone at the time. She hadn’t been relieved, though.
It was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. It always did and since he still hadn’t seen a therapist, there was no hope he’d suddenly changed his ways. But she didn’t want to think about any of that anymore.
But it was the morning after the party and she didn’t want to think about the nonsense in her life anymore. Wes had invited her to help fill in the gaps with anything the victims could provide, which unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—wasn’t much. An “after-action report” was what Wes called it.
At first she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to go because of Thea, but her day care thankfully had room for her at the last minute. Since Dean was working first shift, she’d been able to tell him she was volunteering.
She enjoyed the camaraderie that came with being part of a team. That knowledge of having someone at her back, no matter what? It was a feeling she couldn’t remember having since her daddy passed. She’d just sat through the meeting with all these people—virtual strangers—who knew and loved each other and felt the warmth radiating from them. She’d been lost in all their conversation, the mood in the room was relaxed and positive thanks to their successful mission, and she soaked up the sense of accomplishment and feeling like she wasn’t alone in this shitty world anymore.
But even with the effervescent feeling of saving lives, Naomi was embarrassed to admit—even though it was just to herself—that all she could think about was how damn attractive Wes was in his natural environment.
Watching him help lead the meeting with passion for the victims and his teammates was incredible and nothing short of panty drenching. It was early the morning after the party and everyone was thankfully safe.
As the BlackStone Crew, Nora, Assistant District Attorney Marco Aguilar, Officer Henry Brown, Ellie, and Jules filed out of the room—or waddled out in Jules’s about-to-pop pregnant state—Naomi waited beside Wes near his computers.
He was working on something, she didn’t know what, but let him type away undisturbed until he paused.
“So, what’d you think?” he asked, lifting his hands to cradle the back of his head as he leaned back in his rolling chair.
Naomi shrugged and shook her head slightly. “It’s wild what y’all do. I’m impressed and a little stunned, I guess? I can’t believe you do this every day.”
