Page 92 of Breaking Conviction
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.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Naomi was fucking the enemy.
Despite the fact he’d thought it a thousand times already, Dean winced. For the disrespect and because the muscles in his neck were sore from clenching his jaw. Not to mention the goddamn hole stitched closed just above his carotid artery.
He was being kept for observation, resting up to go to jail and face God knows what. One thing was for sure, he’d have to do whatever he could to make sure he’d get a bond and get the hell out before they put him in a jumpsuit and set him free with the criminals inside. Jail was no place for an ex-cop.
Oddly, it was thanks to Naomi that he had some time to spare and get his affairs in order. His other injuries were mostly superficial, if painful as fuck, that Snake guy had a powerful punch. But if she hadn’t stabbed him in the neck, he’d be behind bars already. He still couldn’t believe she’d thrown everything he’d done for her back at him… with a goddamn high heel, no less.
It was obviously that damn tattooed emo Clark Kent getting in her head. She’d gotten all high and mighty since she left home, fooling herself into thinking she could find someone better.
Dean had tried his best to give her the benefit of the doubt, still not believing that she’d chooseWesover him. He’d done what he had to in order to get her out of there, promised her everything she’d always wanted, but she’d thrown it all back in his face.
Now he’d just received word that she was back in that godforsaken complex. She was too much of a scared coward to leave BlackStone anytime soon, since they’d argued again. As much as he hated to say it, that place was damn near impenetrable. He’d have to find a way to lure her out.
Good thing I’ve got someone on the inside.
He reached for his phone in the plastic bag on his hospital nightstand. They hadn’t cuffed him, relying on the pansy-ass guard outside the room, and they didn’t even bother to take his belongings. It was grade A rookie shit and if he’d still been a training officer, he’d have had their badges. Unfortunately, the station had gone for his badge first.
Dean riffled through the clear Ziploc to retrieve his phone and called one of the few numbers he had. As usual, the Russian answered on the first ring.
“Da.”
“Vlad, I have a proposition.” After a beat of silence, uncertainty made Dean’s stomach turn. “D-don’t you wanna hear my idea?”
“No.”
Dean growled into the phone. The Russian bastard thought he was so special just because he had the boss’s ear.
“It’s a good fuckin’ idea, asshole. I’ve got a way to get rid of some of those security guys that have been on y’all’s asses and pick off one of the final rich guys you’ve been lookin’ for.”
“You know where is Andrew Ascot?” The man’s accent was deep and Dean couldn’t tell if he was interested or accusing. “How do you know this thing?”
Uh-oh.
Vlad and his boss didn’t necessarily know that Dean had been playing both sides. He’d thought his team at AIE Securities could accept the bodyguard job and take Ascot’s money for as long as possible until they had to make good on the hit by the boss. Ascot had been kept radio silent and under lock and key, not allowed to leave the safe house or even get on the internet under the pretense of “safety precautions.”
It was mainly to keep Ascot in the dark and prevent him from getting spooked, but it was also to make sure the Russian didn’t get to complete the boss’s hit before Dean got his payout. Or before Dean’s deception wasfoundout.
Dean had wanted his team to protect Ascot for as many of the rich snob’s paychecks as possible. That way, if the boss ever gave an ultimatum requiring the prick’s head ASAP ‘or else’, then his team could off him right there in the safe house. It’d been a solid plan to ensure maximum reward… up until the asshole was stolen right from under them. If Dean had known BlackStone was after Ascot, too, he’d have demanded triple.
“Uh, we, uh, we’ve been keepin’ tabs on him for the boss’s job. And I know where he’s bein’ held.”
“Da. We do too. It is not hard to figure out in a small river where the big fish are hiding.”
