His Personal Assistant

49. | Loose-ends

...trying to fight Rhys.

Those words echo in my head like a broken record player. I don't need much context when it comes to someone trying to fight Rhys.

There's one very good candidate.

My feet move before my head can process. I storm to Mason, opening his desk drawer. "Naomi?" He looks at me confused, but I ignore him. "Naomi, no!" I storm toward the yelling, people moving out of my way at the sight of the golf club in my hand.

Rhys may have taken it, but he's stupid for hiding it with Mason.

"You stole her from me! All of this happened because of you!" He yells. Without thinking, I'm slamming the golf club upside his head.

"Naomi!" Rhys yells as Jackson falls to the floor, Lindsey letting out a loud gasp. Rhys reaches for the golf club, but I hold it out of reach.

"What the hell, Naomi?!" Jackson yells, looking up at me. His head is bleeding and his fingers have blood on them.

"I am done leaving loose ends." I glare down at him. "I am done with you. You had your chance, and you blew it, you cheating, manipulative son of a bitch!"

"Enough." Rhys steps in between us, taking the golf club from my hands. "You are going to leave, and if you say another word to or about her, I'll have a restraining order against you. Don't test my patience." He glares at Jackson, whose nostrils flare in anger. "Now get out."

Jackson stands to his feet, stepping toward me, but Rhys moves in front of me. "This isn't over."

"I believe it is." Rhys remarks. "Now get out of my company, or I'll call security. And they won't be as nice about it."

Jackson scoffs, stepping backward. "Whatever."

"So you're my daughter's abusive ex." I immediately straighten.

Stepping out from behind Rhys, I furrow my brows, "Mom?"

Jackson looks back and forth between us. "Mom? Wha— What is this? Some kind of joke?" He chuckles nervously. "I-Isn't your mom dead?"

"You would know that, wouldn't you, Jackson?" I step toward him, my arms crossed. "Considering it was your favorite way to beat me down."

He chuckles again. "I-It was a joke. I wasn't trying to-to hurt you."

"Was I laughing?" I snap back.

"Melissa." Mr. Simpson walks up behind my mother, one hand falling on her shoulder. He nods to me. "Naomi." I smile slightly at him. "What seems to be the issue here?"

"No issue." I smile fakely. "Jackson was just leaving."

He smiles nervously, inching away from us. "Jackson, was it?" Mr. Simpson asks, looking at him with a sickly sweet smile. He nods slowly. "What's your full name?"

"Jackson...Fox."

He nods his head to the side. "Go." Jackson all but runs to the elevator. I don't say anything as I stare at the ground.

Lindsey walks up beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call." She winces. So she's the one who called my mother.

"It's fine." I mumble, running my fingers through my hair.

Lindsey clears her throat. "Alright, everybody. Get back to work. The fundraiser is in two weeks and three days; no time to waste."

I turn to Rhys. "You, me, my office. Now."

"No." I start to walk away, but he latches onto my arm, pulling me back.

"We are going to talk this out, so talk to me. Don't just ignore me." He shakes me slightly as he talks, though I don't think he means to. I stare up at him as he stares down at me, pleading. "We've gotten this far, Naomi; don't let it be in vain."

This is my best relationship. Am I really going to give it up because of this?

I exhale. "Fine." I step away, then walk to his office. I walk to his couch as he walks inside, shutting and locking the door behind him. I pour a drink in the cup on his table, sipping from it.

"Naomi, your go-to for everything can't be violence. You're lucky you don't have any charges yet." He moves to sit beside me, intertwining my fingers with his. "I love you, Naomi, but I can't see you go to jail."

My stomach flips at the words. They sound so...foreign. "I don't want to go, either. And I don't mean to resort to violence. It just...happens."

"Is this all because of what happened with Kylie?" My fists clench.

I've wanted to forget what happened. But it echoes in my head. I keep trying to get the image of her dead body out of my head, but I can't. I killed her, and now she's haunting me.

"Naomi?" I blink out of my daze, looking up at him. "Are you okay?"

I smile at him. It's nice knowing that he cares. I'm not used to it. "I'm fine, Rhys."

"I don't believe you." He retorts.

"Then what's the point of asking me the question?"

"I want you to give me a straight answer."

I sigh. "You want a straight answer? Fine." I look directly at him. "Everytime I close my eyes, all I can see is Kylie. I see the blood and I see her laying below me. It's all I can ever think about, and I can't stop."

"Why didn't you say anything?" He whispers.

"Because you were in the hospital. You were already worrying over the fact that you almost died; I wasn't gonna bother you with my problems."

"Your trauma, Naomi." I blink at him. "Those aren't problems; they're trauma."

I swallow. "What?"

"What happened in that warehouse is trauma. And your brain doesn't know how to deal." I only stare. Trauma? "All this time, did you really think they were problems?"

Even if it's trauma, it's still a problem. Because it means I still don't know how to stop thinking about what happened and I don't know what to do.

I exhale, patting my knees. "Well, this has been a great chat, but the fundraiser is coming up and I'm behind, so..." I swallow the rest of my drink. "You know where to find me." I press a kiss to his lips before unlocking and hurrying out the door.

Sighing, I walk to Lindsey's desk. "Are you up for getting drinks tonight?"

She winces. "Tonight? I can't. I get to go have dinner with Alex because my dad wants to feed the media. You could try the girls? Or Mason— Actually, don't do Mason—" I've already begun to walk away.

I need a distraction. Just for tonight.