This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)

by K. Webster

  I was the bad guy.

  Even after all this. After I’d stood by for years as the perfect, patient boyfriend.

  I deserve to be the good guy.

  As I climb out of the truck, my mind flits back to the beginning. Back when nobody believed me that she’d been taken. A satisfied smile stretches over my face.

  “Where the fuck is she, Tony?”

  He has the sense to look fucking ashamed. Leaning back in his armchair, he tilts the bottle of Jim Beam back and swallows a healthy gulp before speaking. “I don’t know.”

  Fury overwhelms me and I fist my hands at my sides. I want to bash his goddamned skull in.

  “She’s dead, Brandon,” he says.

  The room spins as I consider his words. “No-No-No!”

  “Not Baylee,” he snaps and his violent bloodshot eyes meet mine. “My wife. Lynn passed away. It was all for nothing. Now I’ve lost my baby, too.”

  With a snarl, I stomp over to him and grab onto his shirt. Yanking him to his unsteady feet, I spit in his face. “What was all for nothing?”

  He shrugs his shoulders—fucking shrugs them—and has the audacity to look down at me as if I’m still that pesky kid he always thought me to be. I’m no longer that shy kid who wants to date his daughter. I’m his worst fucking nightmare and I won’t stop until I have the love of my life back in my arms.

  “Baylee. The sale. Gabe tried but it wasn’t enough. The money will come too late… Lynn couldn’t cope with losing Baylee. I never anticipated she’d deteriorate so quickly. That losing Baylee would cause her to give up.” A choked sob rips from him.

  I curl my lip in disgust at his words and shove him away from me. “I fucking knew you were involved. You had a hand in selling your own daughter on the black goddamned market!”

  He roars at me and charges. The man is bigger than me, but I’m furious. My rage is that of a hundred men. When he reaches me, I greet him with a fist to his gut. Then, I crack my elbow across his face and send him hurtling to the floor. He lands on his ass with a grunt. I waste no time and launch myself at him. Over and over again, I smash my fists against his face. His teeth cut open my knuckles on one hand and they are now dripping with blood all over the pristine living room rug.

  “You’re a disgusting piece of shit,” I snarl in between labored breaths. “She’s your child.” My entire body is quaking with rage.

  “G-G-Gabe,” he stutters and spits out blood along with a tooth, “said she’ll only be gone for two weeks. He p-promised he’ll get her back before anyone hurts her. He vowed to keep her safe and get me the money to save my wife.”

  Tears fall out of his eyes but I have no pity for the sorry-ass motherfucker. The man who used to intimidate me now sickens me. He’s nothing but a piece of fucking trash. A piece of trash who’d negotiate his teenage daughter’s body for money.

  “Where did he take her?”

  Heat reddens his face. “He said it was best if I didn’t know the details. That if he went to prison for her kidnapping, I’d still be here with Lynn.”

  I gape at him. “And you believed that bullshit?”

  He doesn’t have to nod or speak for me to know he did.

  “Did you ever think about Baylee, Tony?” I demand. “Did it ever occur to you how fucking scared she would be? Did you even once consider that Gabe was lying to you—that he would fuck your daughter? The man looks at her like she’s a piece of meat he wants to sink his teeth into and you sent her away with him.”

  His eyes widen and realization seems to wash over him. “No…”

  “Yes. He probably fucked her the moment he got her to wherever the hell it is he took her. There probably never was any money. I bet he concocted the entire thing so he could fuck your daughter like the goddamned pervert he is!”

  “Get the fuck off me,” he roars. “Don’t talk about my daughter like that. Gabe is family. He loved her—”

  “He loved her, all right,” I sneer. “I watched him love her from afar all the fucking time. While you were too busy trying to intimidate me away from your daughter, he was fantasizing about getting into her teenage panties. And if for some wild reason he does sell her without harming her, do you think for even one second she’ll be safe? Baylee is sweet and innocent. Those monsters will destroy her.”

  He tries to shake his head, but my hands are around his neck before I can stop myself in my attempt to hold him still. My vision begins to cloud, blackness taking over the edges.

  “She won’t be the same, Tony. You may as well have killed her yourself because if she comes back, she won’t be the same Baylee!”

  His face turns an ugly shade of purple and his eyes bug out of his head as he desperately claws at my wrists. This motherfucker deserves punishment for what he did.

  “I will find her,” I grunt out as I squeeze his neck harder and enjoy the hissing sounds coming from him. “And all she’ll have left is me. I’m going to marry her and give her a bunch of fucking babies. You’ll be a sad, distant memory. The man who sold her. The man who betrayed his own daughter because he was too stupid to realize he was being played by his own best friend. How does it feel, Tony? How does it feel knowing I’m going to ruin you like you ruined your own daughter?”

  His eyes flutter closed and his hands slip away from my wrists. I could stop right now. The pulse in his throat is faint but still there. I think. Dragging my gaze away from him, my eyes find the picture of Baylee on the mantle. Her senior picture. She’s wearing a pretty denim jacket over a white lacy dress with cowboy boots. The smile she wears is bright. That girl deserves so much more than the piece of shit parent she was left with.

  She deserves me.

  With a sigh of frustration, I release my grip. “I’m doing this for you, babe,” I mutter aloud, my gaze still on her picture.

  “Where the hell is he?” she screeches from the porch and stomps over to me, jerking me from my memory. “Where the hell is my dad, Brandon?”

  I deserve to slay her monsters.

  Her hand is already raised, poised and ready to slap my face. As soon as she nears, I snatch her dainty wrist and twist it painfully behind her.

  “Ow!” she cries out. “Let me go!”

  A crazed laugh rumbles around us and I shiver. For a moment I wonder if it’s Gabe coming back to haunt us but then I realize the laugh is mine.

  I deserve her loyalty.

  “Did that freak give you this?” I snap and jerk the same wrist up so I can take a closer look at what’s on her arm.

  “Stop, Brandon,” she says in a wobbly voice, all her fire snuffed out.

  I yank the watch from her arm and heave it as far as I can throw it, which is pretty damn far considering I was a pitcher for the varsity baseball team. If we weren’t standing on sand, I’d have stomped it into a million pieces.

  I deserve to spoil her.

  “Get in the house, babe,” I grunt. My hand squeezes her forearm as I guide her inside. “We need to talk.”

  I’m surprised to find the house unlocked. It makes me wonder if the owners are nearby. Out for an early morning walk or some shit. They’ll regret coming home, that’s for sure.

  I deserve to have her all to myself.

  She puts up a resistance when I start pushing her toward the stairs. “You promised me you’d take me to my dad. That’s the only reason I left with you. Where is he?”

  Ignoring her, I all but drag her up the stairs and down the hallway. When I find the master bedroom, I toss her onto the bed and glare down at her.

  I deserve her body.

  “Take off your clothes,” I snap.

  At first, her eyes widen in shock but then her nostrils flare and she scowls at me. Her cheeks and neck redden but I’ve known her long enough to know it isn’t from embarrassment. She’s pissed. How is it she’s scared shitless of Gabe but I don’t frighten her one bit?

  I deserve her fear.

  “Baylee Marie Winston,” I bite out, “if you don’t take your goddamned clothes o
ff right now I will cut them off you.” For effect, I yank the knife out of my pocket and wave it at her.

  I deserve her terror.

  Tears well in her eyes but the fury remains. She’s still not fucking afraid of me. With her angry eyes locked on mine, she whips off my hoodie. The same hoodie I’d seen her in hundreds of times at school. The hoodie with “Thompson” emblazoned on the back that let every guy at school know she was mine.

  Was.

  I deserve to give her my last name.

  I run my fingers through my hair and let out a rage-filled scream. “Why, Baylee? Why did you do this to us? You used to love ME!”

  She crosses her arms over her breasts and glares at me. “Where. Is. My. Dad?”

  I deserve her undivided attention.

  Storming over to her, I surprise her when I grab onto her jaw, my fingers digging brutally into the flesh. “Naked, babe. You’re still half dressed.” When I drag the knife along her breast and down over her belly, she winces in fear. Fucking finally.

  I deserve her hot cunt.

  “Okay, Brandon, okay.”

  I release her and watch as she shimmies out of her pants. As soon as her perfect pussy is on display, I ache to taste it. To put my mouth on her hot cunt and remind her of why she loves me—not that bastard in the hospital.

  I deserve her entire body.

  “What are you going to do?” she demands, her teeth gritting together. I’ll give it to my girl for her bravery—she’s one tough bitch after what Gabe put her through.

  I kick my shoes off and start unbuckling my belt. “What I should have done a long time ago.”

  I deserve to fuck her into tomorrow.

  She starts to squirm away from me but I seize her ankle and yank her back over to the edge of the bed. “Brandon, don’t do this,” she begs, fear finally threading her words. “This isn’t you.”

  I deserve her pleas and screams.

  I smirk, not feeling at all like that timid little pussy boy she once loved. “You’re right, babe. I’m different and I’m tired of being a fucking virgin while you fuck every goddamned prick on the West Coast. Keep your eyes open, Baylee. I want you to know who’s fucking you this time.”

  I deserve all of this.

  I waited for her.

  I rescued her.

  I killed for her.

  I deserve her.

  My Baylee.

  BRANDON’S NORMAL TWINKLING green eyes are dulled into something dark and deviant. I don’t recognize his voice, his hateful smile, or the menacing expression and crazed look in his eyes. He’s not the boy from high school—the boy who was shy about giving me my first kiss or meeting my parents for the first time. This isn’t the boy who I cried for when Gabe took me.

  Gone is the boy from my past.

  This man is a product of Gabe’s actions.

  Gabe created the monster before me.

  “Please,” I beg again as his grip becomes tighter around my ankle. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.

  His green eyes spark to life as he takes pause. I watch in wonder as his gaze darts back and forth between me and my belly as if trying to make sense of my words. I hear a creak on the wood floors in the bedroom. A pair of eyes peer back at me just beyond Brandon. A familiar pair of eyes. A pair of eyes that belong to the devil.

  I’m seeing things.

  Brandon seems to snap out of his daze and works at his jeans to free his cock. While he’s preoccupied, I rear back with my free foot and kick him with every bit of force I can dredge up in his chest. It doesn’t faze him, though, because he laughs and twists my ankle in his grip to the point of pain, causing me to yelp out.

  “You must be deaf because I clearly heard her demand for you not to touch her.” As if the devil has any room to talk. Brandon freezes as Gabe steps closer, pointing a gun at him.

  So I’m not seeing things.

  A bruised and bandaged up Gabe enters the bedroom. He walks with a slight limp and winces.

  “I killed you,” Brandon murmurs in disbelief as if he’s seeing a ghost. “You were dead.”

  Gabe laughs but then coughs. “No, you beat me, when I couldn’t defend myself, and then you dumped me into my cellar. You broke bones, but you didn’t break me,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Drop the knife on the bed and step away from her.”

  Brandon lets the knife fall on the edge of the bed and takes three slow steps away from it. Gabe winks at me and I shiver.

  “How did you get out?” I ask softly. There was no way out. I should know, I was in that cellar for days and felt every surface looking for an alternate escape route.

  He remains perfectly still, only his eyes sliding over to meet mine when he says, “There was a window. You just never found it, baby.” He shrugs dismissively, like I just lost a simple coin toss over who has to do the dishes that night.

  I sit up and glare at him, reaching for my hoodie and sliding it on over my head. “There was no window!”

  “There was. It was painted black near the ceiling. It was hard as hell finding all the brick grooves to stick my toes in so I could scale the wall but, I managed,” he says in a triumphant tone. “Too bad you two were long gone before I got out. Otherwise, we could have had fun together.”

  Brandon starts toward Gabe but he aims the gun, fitted with a silencer, at his head.

  “Don’t even try it, pussy boy. Why don’t we start by you telling Baylee what you did to Tony?”

  My eyes find the enraged ones of Brandon. His jaw clenches as if the boy I knew from before is clinging on desperately. Begging him not to make things worse. I can’t help but be thankful for the truth that Gabe will no doubt force from him.

  “You know nothing,” Brandon snaps. “I did nothing.”

  The muscle in Gabe’s forearm flexes as his finger hovers over the trigger. “I’m not stupid. You and I both know what you did.”

  Brandon grunts and runs his fingers through his hair. His eyes dart back and forth between Gabe and I as he searches for the right words. When his furious glare lands back on Gabe, he fists his hands and spats out words that have my already fragile psyche cracking. “Tony deserved it after what he did.”

  My heart thunders in my chest and I shake my head in denial. What did my dad deserve? What did he do? “No.” The word is a whisper and I’m not sure either of them even heard it.

  Gabe frowns and shakes his head in disproval. “Did you tell Baylee that you killed him? Surely she has ascertained as much by now.”

  “No, you’re lying.” I swallow down my emotion and blink away the tears blurring my vision. “Tell me where my dad is, Brandon.”

  Brandon grits his teeth and jerks his gaze to me. The fire in his eyes is burning bright and hate-filled. He’s lost. So lost. “That night,” he snarls, “that night when he fucking took you, I woke up with a broken nose and a broken heart.”

  “Awwww,” Gabe taunts.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Brandon snaps. “I went into their bedroom and woke up your dad. I told him what happened. Do you want to know what he did?”

  My brows scrunch in confusion. I can imagine a million different scenarios. Dad hitting him. Dad freaking out with worry. Dad accusing him of doing something to me.

  “He dragged me out of that room, so your mother wouldn’t wake, and he punched me in the stomach. Then he threatened me. He told me to shut the fuck up or he’d do it for me. To not tell a soul anything because as far as I was concerned, you ran away. It wasn’t until a few days later when I came back, after your mom had passed away, that I learned the truth. He told me that he did what he had to do for the money. To save your mother. End of story.”

  “I don’t understand,” I murmur. None of this makes any sense.

  Brandon huffs and lets out a cruel laugh. A laugh so similar to Gabe’s it sends goosebumps popping up all over my flesh. “Your dad was in on your abduction and sale, Baylee. It was all planned.”

  Time stops as I consider his twisted words. There’s no way my
father would sell his daughter for money. Absolutely not.

  Sitting up on my knees, the hoodie hitting me mid-thigh, I point my finger at him angrily. “No, I don’t believe this.” Anger surges in my chest at his insinuations. “You’re a fucking liar, Brandon. Dad wouldn’t let Gabe abduct me, rape me, and then sell me. No!”

  Gabe chooses that moment to pipe up. “It’s the truth,” he says and has the audacity to look regretful. “It was the only way to insure Lynn got moved up on the transplant list or considered for a private donor that could be paid off. It was business and you were a pawn, sweet girl.” Then, his eyes slide over my bare legs and he flashes me one of his wicked, psycho grins. “Besides, Tony didn’t give me his approval to sleep with his daughter. How was I supposed to know we were going to fall in love? That was just a bonus, beautiful.”

  We are not in love.

  He is fucking delusional.

  “This was all for nothing…” I trail off, choking on my words. “What about those other girls? Did you love them too or were they just practice?”

  Gabe runs his fingertips over the top of my foot and I shudder. “Sweetheart, believe me when I say it was not all for nothing. It was worth every second. And, yes, my little hobby of mine with the WCT opened the door for something bigger. It revealed to me a way to help your father save your mother and to give me you. Everyone wins. You were worth so much more than those broken girls though. You were meant to be mine, sweet girl. Forever.”

  Tears roll down my cheeks as the betrayal sinks in at being used in their game. The black knight and the black rook taking out all the pieces in my world, including their attempt at taking my king. My father’s ultimate betrayal spins in my head, threatening to finish me off. Lifting my chin, I remember War’s words.

  The rules state the pawn is the weakest piece.

  But if the pawn makes it to the other side, it gets promoted.

  The pawn can become queen.

  And then it’s not weak at all.

  “Mom knew?” My voice wobbles.

  Gabe smiles, almost tenderly and shakes his head. “She didn’t. Your mother would have never agreed to that.”