Chapter 21 Naomi #3
Now, as she crouched down, guarding Abby, Naomi felt a seismic shift within herself. She would no longer be the one to bend. This time, she would be the one to stand tall, to confront the storm Simon represented, not as a victim, but as a woman reclaiming her life, her dignity, and her future.
And if she couldn’t stop him, she would die being her true self.
She inhaled deeply, summoning a newfound strength within herself.
Then, with an exhale, she stood. Simon watched her, his expression as dark and threatening as the metal of the gun he wielded.
She fixed her gaze on him, unflinching, and stepped forward until the gun pressed against her chest. Simon’s face became a roulette wheel of emotions.
“Simon,” she spoke with an authoritative clarity that seemed to cut through the tension in the room, “Put the gun down. It’s over.”
He inhaled sharply, a strangled sound of desperation and anger. “It’s not over,” he said as tears welled in his eyes, betraying the turmoil beneath. “Not after everything I did for you.”
“You think what you did back there was for me?”
“I told you! I would do anything to get you back. It was working. I was going to get you back until he,” he used his gun to indicate the door, as if to suggest Will’s presence somewhere out there.
“Ruined everything. If he could have left everything alone, it would have worked, and we would have been … we could have been—”
“No,” she assured him. “We couldn’t have been. It’s over.”
“It’s not over. You are mine, Naomi.” His voice was strained. “You have always been mine.”
“It’s been over for a long time,” Naomi spoke softly, becoming calmer as he began to unravel. “And nothing you can do will ever change that. I did love you. Nothing will ever change that either. You were my first kiss. You were my first love. I built a life with you. But that’s over.”
In response, Simon’s thumb slipped onto the hammer of the gun. “It isn’t over!”
She could feel the fear rising, but her resolve was stronger. “I think you know we can never go back.”
“Stop saying that!”
Placing her hand gently on the barrel of the gun, she looked straight into Simon's eyes. “I know that you love me too. Which is why I know you won’t hurt me.”
Simon's body seemed to quiver, the gun shaking in his unsteady grasp. She could see the conflict in him, and she hoped it could at least buy her some time to get Abby out.
“It’s okay, Simon,” she whispered. “It’s over now.”
There was silence for what felt like hours. And then, she watched, heart pounding, as Simon's arm gradually lowered. Even as relief washed over her, she knew this moment was fragile and she needed to act fast but move slowly. If she could convince him to hand over the gun then, maybe …
The door handle jiggled. “I can hear voices in there, Abigail Meyer,” came Riley’s voice, muffled but unmistakable, from the other side of the door. “I’ve come bearing alcohol and I won’t be left out!”
Simon began to move away from the door, but before he could, it swung open, catching him square in the back of the head.
His head slammed forward, taking the rest of his body with him.
As he stumbled to the ground, his grasp on the gun loosened, and it slipped from his hand, sliding underneath Abby’s couch.
“What the hell have you got in front of the door?” Riley asked.
Simon was still on the floor, but the momentary daze from the door hitting him was already wearing off.
Whether he was still going to let them go or not, it didn’t matter.
He needed to be stopped until the police could come.
Because this time she wasn’t going to let him get away.
She knew they only had seconds before their chance to subdue him would pass.
“Riley!” she heard Abby yell.
Fighting through the terror that had held her back so many times before, Naomi dove towards the couch.
As she stretched her arm as far as it would go, her fingers scrambling blindly through the dust and shadows beneath the couch, she glanced beside her to see Simon inching woozily towards her, eyes blazing.
“Calm down,” Riley said, their voice no longer muffled through the door. “I’ve brought wine. Hey, excuse me!”
She had never touched a gun before, but she knew the instant her fingers made contact with it. She gripped it tightly as she pulled it out and pointed it directly at Simon.
“Never again.” The words emerged, like molten lava, drawn from somewhere deep within herself. And for the first time, Simon was the one who looked afraid.
The look didn’t last long, though. Abby, clutching a wine bottle, appeared behind Simon. With both hands holding the neck like a bat, she swung it at him. The bottle connected with his head, and he dropped like the dead weight he was.
Once it was clear he wasn’t getting back up, Naomi took her eyes off Simon and looked at Abby.
For a few seconds, they could only stare at each other, connected in their stunned relief.
Then, the door, which was only open a few inches, cracked open a little further, then came to halt against Simon’s sprawled body.
“Do we need to talk about this key thing,” Riley said, spryly shimmying through the available space. “Because—oh my God! Is that—are you—what the hell happened?”
As Naomi pulled herself to standing, Abby turned toward Riley.
“Abby, you’re bleeding.” Riley stepped forward and reached for Abby, concern etched across their face.
“I’m fine.” Abby dismissed Riley with a wave, but her voice sounded thin and shaky.
Becca appeared in the doorway, the bright bouquet of flowers she carried a stark, almost comical, contrast to the scene.
“I think flowers are more expensive than a stripper. I really feel like it would have been better—” Then, like Riley, she noticed the scene around her.
“What’s going on here? Why is there a man on your floor? ”
Riley pointed at Simon. “That’s Simon.” Then to the gun in Naomi’s hand. “And that’s a gun.”
Naomi had forgotten she was still holding it. The realization made her stomach churn, an instinctive revulsion urging her to drop it. But instead, she gripped it tighter.
Riley’s finger, continuing its tour, now pointed at Abby. “And that is your sister who says she’s fine but there’s literal blood running down her face.” The finger swung down. “And that’s my bottle of wine, which was used to subdue him.”
Becca strode towards Abby and lifted a hand as if to inspect her sister’s injury, but Abby shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said again. But no sooner had the words come out of her mouth than she collapsed to the floor.