Page 48 of Breaking Conviction
“This what you need?” He grabbed the laundry detergent box and Naomi had no choice but to nod. When he set it down, she felt the heat from his cobalt gaze as she unlatched the top. She sifted her hand through the white powdery detergent until her fingers found the small plastic bag of rolled cash at the bottom of the container.
She tucked the Ziploc in a hidden pocket she’d sewn in her purse, just in case. Her first plan had been to have the money on her at all times, but carrying the large sum had made her nervous. Using the laundry room for her escape had been an excellent tip from a survivor. Lord knows Dean didn’t know his bleach from his fabric softener.
After the cash was safely hidden, she crossed her arms and met Wes’s eyes, daring him to say something. But when his only reply was a furrowed brow and silence, she did the job for him.
“Go ahead. Chastise me for stayin’ with a man I had to plan to run away from. But know I’m already thinkin’ it enough for the both of us.”
“No, it’s not that—”
“Then what? I know you’re thinkin’ somethin’ so let’s hear it.”
“I just… I just wish my mom had had a plan.”
A breath escaped her and all her anger dissipated with it. “Oh.” She didn’t know what Wes had grown up with, but if the shadows that darkened his face every time he spoke about his mother were any indication, then it had to have been bad. Damn her temper and her insistence on keeping him at arm’s length. This man wasn’t the enemy and it was high time she stopped treating him that way. “Let’s go, um… let’s go. I gotta get T from day care before Dean tries to.”
Hawk met back up with them and when they reached outside, Naomi turned to them with her car keys in her hand as a thought crossed her mind.
“Um… do you mind followin’ behind? Just in case?”
“Of course, love. You don’t even have to ask.”
Relief coursed through her even as her heart pounded in her chest. She stared at the empty house for a moment. It wasn’t the last time she’d set foot inside, but she’d never stay under that roof with that monster again. Her hands shook from the mixed emotions swelling in her, unable to fully believe she was actually leaving him.
After five on and off tumultuous years of being a victim, she was finally taking her life into her own hands.
She was a survivor.
Chapter Eighteen
It’d been eight days since Naomi and Thea began staying at BlackStone and Wes didn’t know if he’d ever get used to it. When they’d first gotten there, it’d taken every ounce of his willpower not to hover over them, especially when she’d refused to let Wes help tend to her injuries. Thankfully, Devil reassured him that they were just surface wounds, and nothing vital was in jeopardy.
Since then, he’d secured Naomi’s phone so Dean couldn’t track her, but otherwise had carefully avoided her. He’d wanted her to get settled in her new safe haven, and hopefully let her come to him.
While he waited for her, he focused all his energy on the developments in the trafficking ring BlackStone was trying to tear down. After crashing the Ashland Elite Scholarship Fundraiser, all the shit in Ashland County had hit the proverbial fan.
Ellie had been kidnapped by an investigator with the Ashland County Sheriff’s Office. Thank God, she’d saved herself and was healthy, safe, and sound now. The investigator wasn’t so lucky and was murdered by the traffickers after having double-crossed them. He’d been corrupt as fuck, but his files had broken some major ground in the case, revealing damning evidence on many ‘elite’ citizens of Ashland County.
The authorities were particularly interested in the partners of Ascot, Rusnak, and Strickland, LLC, a law firm that BlackStone always thought had its hand in the trafficking ring. When the BlackStone Crew crashed the party, they caught Mitchell Strickland with his pants down—literally—while eight women were being held hostage by two Russians who BlackStone suspected were henchmen.
Once Strickland was arrested, the dominos fell and it’d been extremely satisfying to watch each pompous bastard topple over. The feds were already looking for Andrew Ascot and Dmitri Rusnak for similar crimes.
Now the goal was to get Strickland to talk to them, followed by the rest of the trafficking scum in whateveralea iacta estmeant and the organization behind the ring.
Wes opened the door to his BlackStone Securities studio apartment while tugging his black Henley over his head. With the fabric already covering his face, he paused at a feminine gasp.
Shit.The residential floor wasn’t all men anymore. The fact that he’d forgotten about the woman he’d been obsessing over for months was a testament to how stuck in his thoughts he’d been.
He pulled down the Henley the rest of the way quickly to see that Naomi had been staring at his abs. The desire in her eyes made him stifle a groan, but he did his best to keep his cool.
“Wes!” Little footfalls echoed down the glazed concrete flooring coming from the living room common area. He kneeled down with his arms wide, barely readying himself in time for Thea to collapse into him.
“Floor is lava, Wes! Floor is lava! You can’t put me down!”
He lifted her up high and spun her around before pretending to set her down. She giggled and lifted her legs up to keep from touching the ground. Her crown went lopsided as she yelled about the ‘floor of lava’ that was too hot for her to stand on. He repeated the movements as he tossed her around all the way to the dining room in the center of the residential floor.
“Again! Again!” Her squeals of joy went straight to his heart as he raised her one last time and stood her on top of the dining room table. “We-ess! I can’t be on a table!”
“Well, where else am I going to put you? Everywhere else is lava.”
