This Is Me, Baby (War & Peace #5)

by K. Webster

  “You’re going to cry it out,” I tell her firmly. “And then you’re going to sharpen those claws. The world is about to hear you roar, baby.”

  “Where do you want to go?” I ask as I toss the last of her and Luciana’s bags into the back of my truck.

  Brie glances over at Gabe, who is pacing beside my truck in the parking lot. When her eyes find mine again, she seems stressed. Probably wondering where the fuck she will go. Her dad seems confused on what to do as well. Talk about a clusterfuck.

  “I’m taking her with me,” Gabe says finally, his menacing gaze boring into me. “The girls are coming with me. I’ll make it work.”

  Brie tenses and it’s all I need. “Nope, old man. Remember, you have Hannah Bananas. They can stay at my place for the time being.”

  Gabe growls like a big grizzly bear but it doesn’t faze me.

  “Brie,” he utters and stalks over to her. “I’ll find a way for this to work. Just give me some time.” He pulls her into a tight embrace, but she doesn’t hug him back.

  “Goodbye, Daddy.”

  He reluctantly lets her pull away from his hug. I give him a shrug of my shoulders as both women climb into the truck. Once they close the door, he storms toward me. His eyes are manic. I can tell he’s losing his mind over the whole ordeal. I’d almost feel sorry for him, but I don’t.

  I feel sorry for Brie.

  He had a hand in doing this to her.

  My sister did this to her.

  If anyone fixes things for her, it’ll be me. I’m probably one of the few people she will let help her.

  “Make sure she stays safe, Ren,” he grumbles. “My baby girl needs protection. If she won’t let me, then it has to be you.”

  “I’ll never let anyone hurt her,” I vow. My eyes narrow and my jaw clenches. The air seems to crackle with my heartfelt promise. “Now go see your other daughter. She needs you too.”

  Without waiting for a response, I stride over to the driver’s side of the truck and hop in. Both women are somber. The entire ride to the townhouse is silent. Brie sits in the back seat. Occasionally our gazes meet in the mirror. When I finally pull into my neighborhood, Brie perks up and stares at all the modest townhomes. I liked this neighborhood because the homes were newer, but not gigantic, and fairly affordable compared to others in the area. And the best part is that it’s within walking distance of the ocean.

  I pull into the driveway next to Calder’s black Tahoe and shut off the truck. “You both are welcome to stay for as long as it takes for you to get back on your feet,” I say, making sure to look at both of them. “We have an extra bedroom. If you can deal with Calder eating all the food and leaving the toilet seat up, I think you’ll be okay.”

  We all get out of the truck. Brie shields her eyes against the sun as she looks down the street. Between the townhouses, you can see the ocean. A salty breeze whips around us. Brie’s T-shirt flaps in the wind, and it almost seems as if a gust will catch her just right and blow her away from me.

  I would find her again.

  I always do.

  When she turns to look at me, she’s wearing a small smile. Small smiles eventually lead to breathtaking ones. I’ll take them all. “I like it here.”

  “Good.” I flash her and Luciana a grin. “Let’s get your stuff inside. Calder may eat a lot but he’s actually a pretty decent cook. I texted him from the airport to tell him we’d be hungry.”

  They both trail inside behind me. The house is a little messy, because two bachelors aren’t exactly good housekeepers, but it’s still a nice place. I’m only renting for now. I’d wanted to buy, but Dad asked me to wait. Said it had nothing to do with the money I would spend from my trust fund but everything to do with the fact that I should wait before I plant my roots. Something about his words had halted me from making such a huge decision, like buying a house.

  The place smells good. Calder’s obsessed with Italian food and cooks it a lot. With Dad being vegan, we ate some pretty bland stuff growing up. It would seem my brother is as far from vegan as one could get.

  “We’re here,” I holler as I waltz into the kitchen. My brother stands at the stove in nothing but a pair of jeans that barely stay on his ass and a blue beanie on his head. He’s not wearing a shirt because, let’s face it, he’s Calder and he never wears a shirt. I smirk when I notice he’s gotten yet another tattoo. Unlike my tats that make sense to me and are large pieces, he has a bunch of random shit all over his chest and arms. Mom knows about my tattoos but she would kill his ass if she saw his. Calder is still her baby boy despite being eighteen now and also having Mason on the scene.

  “You kids hungry?” he questions, turning his gaze our way.

  I roll my eyes when I see he’s wearing a fucking Blue’s Clues beanie. Where does he find this shit to taunt me with? He’s beaming at me like the cat that ate the goddamned canary. That is, until his gaze falls behind me. When his smile falters, I assume it’s because he sees how broken my Brie is. But when I turn, I realize his focus has landed somewhere else.

  “Remember Luciana from when we visited? I know we weren’t there very long, and she didn’t come out much…” I glance up at my brother. A storm brews in his eyes before he seems to shake it away, replacing the odd look with one of smug assholeness, which he wears so well.

  “Hey, Luci.” He winks at her before going back to stir his sauce.

  Luciana’s face grows bright red. Her eyes remain on my brother’s muscled body as he cooks. Maybe he’ll stop obsessing so much over Vee and give some other chicks a chance. One can only hope.

  “While he finishes up, I’ll show you to your room,” I tell the girls. Brie’s face is impassive. I’ve seen the look on her face a thousand times over the past three years.

  Block out the pain.

  Focus on what’s right in front of her.

  Force a smile when necessary.

  Deny tears from falling.

  She’s so fucking strong all the time. In those rare moments when she breaks, I get to see down to her fragile core. I don’t want her to have to be strong all the time. I want to be strong for her, so for once, Brie can relax.

  “This is the guest room.” I motion toward the neutrally decorated room. “The bed is big enough for the both of you, but if you don’t want to sleep together, I can always take the couch and one of you can take my bed.”

  Brie sets her bags down and walks over to me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  My hand finds the small of her back. She lets me guide her down to the master bedroom. Once we push inside the door and close it behind us, she turns her sad gaze to mine. Confusion and heartache storm behind her eyes. I can tell she wants to say something but simply doesn’t have the words yet.

  “Brie—”

  “Can I sleep here tonight?” she blurts out.

  Our eyes meet and shame washes over her features. Her bottom lip quivers and she bites it to keep it from moving. I want to bite it too. Like last night when I marked her perfect tit with my teeth.

  “Of course you can,” I tell her with a smile. “Like I said, I can take the couch and—”

  “No,” she interrupts. “With you.” Her eyes close and her nose turns pink as she desperately fights her tears. “I just want to be held again.”

  I stalk over to her and pull her against my chest. Her rigid frame relaxes in my grip. “Brie, I will hold you until you don’t want me to hold you anymore. Don’t ever feel bad for wanting that.”

  Her head tilts up and she swallows. Pain hides in her eyes. I wish I could reach inside of her and patch it all up. I’m dying to heal every infliction she’s ever suffered. “Hug buddies,” she says softly, a false chuckle following.

  Sliding my palms to her cheeks, I hold her face so I can stare deeply into her chocolate eyes. “And other kind of buddies too. Like last night. If that’s what you need.”

  Her cheeks blaze red. “T-That was a mistake,” she stammers out.

  I run my thumb across
her bottom lip, staring for just a moment at how her flesh resists and pulls with it. “Taking away some of your pain, if only for one night, was not a mistake. It was necessary.”

  THE SEMI COLD SHOWER did nothing to cool the flames of embarrassment that had painted my skin earlier. I’d basically, in a moment of desperation, begged Ren to let me sleep in his bed. My emotions have been chaotic for the past month. The only time I’ve felt even remotely okay was last night with his heavy arm wrapped across my middle.

  I’m selfish because I want it again.

  I want to close my eyes and feel safe.

  Running a brush through my wet hair, I wonder how to navigate my messy world. I’d told Ren I was lost…and I am. The feeling isn’t far off from when I was holed up in the basement with Esteban. I was drifting and alone. I never thought I’d be found again.

  Thank God for Ren showing up when he did. He grounded me. I had begun to spin slightly out of control and he slowed the dizzying movement. Brought it to a screeching halt.

  “Beh.”

  Luciana’s brown eyes meet mine in the foggy mirror. She looks pretty with her hair hanging down in long waves in front of her face. She usually has it pulled back into a bun. It’s weird seeing her look so casual.

  “Everything okay?” I question.

  She looks over her shoulder to the doorway and then back at me. Quickly, she nods her head but her cheeks light up in a pink hue.

  “What’s going on?”

  With a frustrated huff, she pulls her phone from her pocket. Her long fingers fly across the keys. Seconds later, she hands me the phone that’s pulled up to the Notes app.

  He looks like Justin Bieber!

  Frowning, I lift my gaze to meet hers. “Who?”

  She grunts and steals the phone back. Then hands it back to me.

  Calder. OMG, did you see his chest? His muscles are huge. I want to lick them!

  At this, I burst out laughing. That girl has Bieber Fever bad. The fact that she thinks Calder looks like him has me quite amused. I personally don’t see it, but Luciana seems convinced.

  “Have you ever actually licked anyone’s muscles before?” I ask with a lifted eyebrow.

  Her gaze falls to the floor and she shakes her head. She taps away on the phone until she has a new message for me.

  I was a virgin until two summers ago. :(

  Her expression has lost the joviality from moments ago.

  “Esteban?” I can hardly say his name without wanting to throw up.

  Luciana nods and taps away some more.

  Yes. Esteban. He is the only one. He let his friends touch me sometimes but never let them do more.

  Memories of him assault me. The spaghetti we ate earlier is threatening to make a reappearance.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter. “Getting fucked against your will doesn’t count. One day, I hope you get to learn the difference with someone you care about.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, before her fingers type away at another message.

  Don’t be sad, Brie.

  I close my eyes. Flashes of the way the heroin numbed me taunt me. Truth be told, I loved the feeling. How it made my pain disappear. How I faded into oblivion. Not a day goes by where, at some point, I don’t physically crave it.

  “I’m not feeling so hot,” I lie when I reopen my eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She gives me a quick hug and pecks my cheek before leaving. I shakily make my way over to the bed and sit. After dinner, Ren went to the basement to work out. He’s been gone a couple of hours, and I wish he’d come back. At least when he’s here, my mind clears some. I’m not trapped in a drug-induced haze in that basement or holding together my dead husband’s neck.

  I’m in the present.

  The door clicks closed and I snap my attention over to it. Ren stands in the doorway looking too good for the way I feel. My hormones are all over the place. And right now, seeing him all sweaty in nothing but a pair of low-slung basketball shorts and tennis shoes, enables my mind to lose focus on all my stress, and instead, hone in on him.

  At one time, I used to sit in my window and stare at him for hours. I loved how he’d drip with sweat, all of his muscles glistening. Now, he’s larger and his skin is more colorful. He’s the same boy and yet he’s also this man.

  A distracting man.

  “You okay?” he asks as he kicks off his shoes. His eyebrows are pinched together in concern.

  I nod and scoot further up the bed toward the headboard. His bed smells just like he always does. Leather and soap and safety. An odd yet extremely satisfying combination. His eyes travel along my bare legs before he clears his throat and turns his back to me as he heads toward the shower.

  Once I hear the water turn on, I slip under the covers. My entire body is on edge. The dead organ that once beat in my chest has turned to stone. Each time I think of Duvan, another piece of it chips away. The only solution I have to keep it from whittling down to nothing is to completely shut out those parts. When Ren held me early this morning in my bathroom, I’d wanted to lock my mind down. Instead, he started asking questions. Drew out answers from me about my love for Duvan. It was therapeutic, in a way, but now that it’s just me again, I don’t want to be alone with my devastation.

  My nerve endings seem to pulsate with energy. Each time I close my eyes, Duvan’s purple-black irises shine back at me. It hurts so fucking badly to think about him. I dig my fingernails into my palms and attempt to drive away the pain.

  I’m not sure how long I remain in this position, but it isn’t until the overhead light above me is shut off that I finally drag myself from my inner torture chamber. A warm body slides into the bed beside me. I let out a relieved groan when he hauls me into his arms.

  He smells so good.

  Clean and strong.

  Ren.

  “You’re crying,” he says softly. “What can I do to help?”

  I didn’t even realize I was crying. When my fingertips touch my cheek, I feel the wetness there. “I don’t know.”

  “Were you thinking about him?” he murmurs, his fingers stroking the flesh on my upper arm.

  “Always.”

  “I’m sorry this happened to you. It’s not fair. You of all people deserved better.”

  I choke out my words. “I don’t want to talk right now,” I whisper. “I just need…” My fingertips lightly skate down his sculpted chest toward his stomach. In the dark, his physique reminds me of Duvan’s.

  The smells are all wrong.

  The voice is all wrong.

  But the heat rippling from him is all right.

  By the time my palm reaches his shorts, his cock is erect and straining against the fabric. Last night, he split me apart with pleasure. With every stroke and thrust, he drove away my sadness. It was fleeting but for a while, I was high.

  Just like the heroin once did for me.

  I was able to blur out all the heartache and focus on something nice for just a moment. Something that didn’t destroy me, but instead, fulfilled me.

  “I need you,” I utter. “You’re my distraction.”

  I hate myself for using Ren. For literally turning out the lights on our friendship to gain a high from his body. His warmth. His companionship. His pleasure. When daylight returns, I’ll once again regret my actions. I’ll detest my decision-making skills. Hate how weak I am.

  Yet, right now, I don’t care about any of that.

  In the darkness, I crave the real life ecstasy that surges through my veins when I’m touched in just the right way. When his hot breath tickles the tender flesh along my throat. When his teeth bite me in a way that hurts so good.

  “You’re going to just keep pretending?” he asks, his lips pressing soft kisses below my ear.

  My fingers find his still wet hair. “It’s easier that way.”

  In the dark, I’m free to say whatever I want.

  “Do you imagine it’s him here instead of me?” He’s not angry. At least I c
an’t tell if he is. He sounds curious. As though he’s trying to figure me out.

  “Sometimes.”

  An animalistic sound rumbles from him tickling my throat as he trails south toward my chest. His palm cups my breast in an almost reverent way. But then his teeth are on my still tender nipple. He’s not gentle as he sucks and nips at it. The contrast between his rough handling of one breast and his worshipping way of the other has me squirming beneath him. When he bites me once more, I dig my fingernails into his shoulder. A hiss escapes him. I expect him to move along but he bites me over and over, causing me to cry out and claw him again.

  “I can see why he called you tigress,” he murmurs against my sore nipple before kissing my skin softly. He suckles the flesh until he gets to my stomach. My pussy is throbbing with anticipation. The idea of having his lips on me between my thighs has my entire body thrumming with excitement.

  In the dark, I’m transfixed in this moment.

  Sadness and despair and regret aren’t haunting me.

  I’m lost in the best possible way.

  My attention is torn away from my inner thoughts and is honing in on his lips. So soft. So tender. So loving. He kisses me just below my belly button. His palm splays across my midsection, which is beginning to soften and expand. He whispers something against my belly that I can’t hear, but I feel. So hot.

  “What did you say?” I question, my body practically twitching with the need to have him tear me apart.

  His tongue flicks out and he drags it down my skin—lower and lower until he reaches my panty line just above my pubic bone. I’m so wet for him. If he were to touch my panties, he’d feel just how wet. His teeth find the fabric and he playfully tugs at it. I let out a mewl of pleasure when his thumb rubs along my clit through my panties to the part of me that practically drips with need.

  “So wet,” he says with a smug tone.

  “What did you say before?” I ask again.

  “I said, ‘You’re going to love your mom. Everyone does.’”