War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 1

This is Me, Baby.

K. Webster.

"These violent delights have violent ends."

-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.

Warning:.

This is Me, Baby is a dark romance. Strong s.e.xual themes and violence, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. If you are sensitive to dark themes, then this story is not for you. This is Me, Baby is the fifth book in the series. Please read the first four books before reading this one to understand the story.

The day before...

"I FEEL LIKE FOR once, I have a future. Something I can actually look forward to," I murmur and absently rub my still flat tummy. One day it will swell with our baby. The idea both elates and terrifies me.

Duvan chuckles and sits up on his elbow on the bed beside me. In the morning light, his eyes are a brilliant purple, not a trace of black in them. I could stare into them for hours. "I want you to wake up every single day and look forward to the next. You've had too much heartache in your life, mi amor. It's time to live. It's time to love. It's time to be happy. You deserve it."

His fingertip brushes against my bottom lip before he drags it along my throat toward my collarbone. When he skates it over to my nipple, I let out a gasp.

"I'm most definitely happy right now," I tell him with a grin. My nipple stands at attention as if to affirm my statement.

"Good," he growls as he climbs over my naked body. "I won't ask you for much, but your happiness is something I need, tigress. I want it. I desire it. I f.u.c.king crave it. Seeing your genuine smile or hearing your sweet laugh is better than any drug I've ever experienced. You're the real deal." His lips dance across mine. "You're mine."

I hook my legs around his hips and slightly lift up from the bed in a needy way. When he's inside of me, owning me and pleasing me, I feel whole. Perfect. A part of something much bigger than I ever dreamed of.

"I need you," I tell him, my voice almost a whine.

He nuzzles his nose against mine before pulling slightly away to look down at me. A strand of black hair falls down over his right eye, and he rewards me with a crooked grin. It sets my skin on fire with the need to have him before I go crazy. "You don't need me," he murmurs. But as he slides his thick c.o.c.k against my c.l.i.t, I know it's a lie. I need him with my entire being.

"I can't seem to function without you," I admit. With each slide against me, he makes me wetter and wetter. One wrong move and his teasing charade will be over. He'll be seated deep within me where he belongs.

His thumb strokes my cheek. "You are your own person, Brie. You may need my c.o.c.k inside of you right now but you don't need me to exist. You're like some beautiful planet that hasn't been discovered by anyone but me yet. I come visit because I love being there with you. But you don't need me there to thrive. You exist in the vast black nothingness because you were meant to. You were always the plan...everyone around you, including me, is simply a part of the plan."

Tears well in my eyes and I blame my stupid emotions. He hardly ever calls me by my name. It startles me to the point that I begin to examine his vague words. I don't like the ominous nature of them. Like he's unknowingly warning me of a life without him.

I can't exist in a life like that.

"Tigress..." His growl has me locking eyes with him. "I'm not trying to make you sad. In fact, in about thirty seconds, I'm going to make you really f.u.c.king happy." He closes his eyes for a brief moment before blinking them back open. "I just want you to know that you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I learned this about you the very first time I saw you. Your face was so impa.s.sive yet a storm brewed in your eyes. I could feel the heat of your fury at being a p.a.w.n between my father and Heath. That eventually you'd tire of their bullying. That one day you'd incinerate them both with your fiery wrath. I've seen your strength on many occasions. It hasn't been fully unleashed, but baby, it's there."

He swipes away a tear on my cheek and kisses my nose. My chest aches with a dull pain that begins to form there. I hate the tone with which he says his words. As if he and the rest of the universe know something I don't. Something that will completely blindside me one day. Something that will force me to call upon those alleged strengths he's so confident I own.

"Don't ever leave me," I choke out. I'm not sure where the insecurity is coming from but I can't bear the thought of him growing bored with me one day.

His mouth smashes against mine in a deep kiss. A kiss that makes promises he's yet to voice. That he'll be with me forever. I moan into his mouth as he slowly pushes his c.o.c.k into me. With Duvan, I want him to split me in two. For him to burrow his way so deep into my soul, I'll never get him out.

"I'll always be with you, mi amor," he vows between our wet, breathy kisses. His hips buck in a slow and torturous way against me.

"Here." He taps my temple.

"Here." He runs his fingers between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, lingering long enough to feel my thundering heartbeat.

"And here." His hand splays across my stomach.

I nod in agreement and dig my heels into his a.s.s to spur him on. I need my tiger to maul me. To destroy my being and mark me as his. "Always with me," I echo, my voice quivering with the antic.i.p.ation of a very close o.r.g.a.s.m.

His kiss deepens as he thrusts harder into me. Duvan touches me in all the right places. Says all the right things. Smells exactly the right way.

"Oh, G.o.d," I whimper a second before my body convulses with an o.r.g.a.s.m.

He grunts against my mouth, his hot breath tickling me, as he finds his own release. His hot s.e.m.e.n fills me, but it's actually him who fills my heart.

"Tigress," he says, a smug tone in his voice. He pulls away and lifts a black eyebrow at me. The shadow from not shaving in a couple of days is a s.e.xy look on him. My p.u.s.s.y throbs just looking at my handsome husband. "I'm going to make you love me one day."

All I can do is beam at him.

He won't have to make me.

Because I already do.

I love you, Duvan Rojas.

The day of...

LOVE IS STRANGE. AT least that's what I always told my baby girl. That it's messy and confusing. That half the time it doesn't make sense. That sometimes, it morphs and changes into something new.

What I didn't tell her is that love is ugly too.

As a father, I wanted to shelter her from heartache and pain. There was no way I was going to crush her and tell her that sometimes love really f.u.c.king hurts.

And yet...

I should have warned her. I should have explained to her that sometimes love is like a dull knife that takes pride in gouging out little pieces of your heart, one painful dig at a time.

Love has f.u.c.king destroyed my daughter.

Glancing over at the pa.s.senger side of the rental car, I let out a sigh of frustration. She looks so tiny curled up in her seat. Her hair is messy and caked in blood. Those high cheekbones, which are exactly the same design as her mother's, are tearstained and almost as red as the blood that covers her.

I tear my gaze from her sleeping form and focus on the dark road ahead of me. The rain is coming down in buckets due to the tropical storm, which makes trying to drive in it a b.i.t.c.h. I'm dying to get on my phone and call War. To flip the f.u.c.k out on him for not warning me sooner about what was going on.

"We can't be sure," he'd said. "Everything looks okay from afar."

But it wasn't f.u.c.king okay. Some motherf.u.c.ker had a hard-on for my daughter. The p.r.i.c.k was supposed to take care of her so she'd be safe and loved. A stand-in father, if you will. This life was supposed to be preferable over the one I could have given her with Hannah. She was supposed to thrive and live life to the fullest.

Not this.

She wasn't meant to be forced to marry some p.u.s.s.y at eighteen, carted off to South America, and then have to witness the brutal murder of her husband.

Just thinking the G.o.dd.a.m.ned word has me on edge. My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as I clutch it with fury.

If only I'd not been wrapped up in Hannah, I could have noticed the signs sooner. I should have known better than to leave Ren and War in charge of looking after my daughter. Those two idiots can't identify evil from a mile away, not like I can. h.e.l.l, I'm married to it. I recognize the unhinged parts of people. Hone in on them like a fly on s.h.i.+t. If I'd taken one minute out of my G.o.dd.a.m.ned life with my wife and Toto to look beyond the surface of Brie's new life, I'd have seen the signs. Something would have alerted me.

I could have saved her from all of this.

Clenching my jaw, I attempt to calm the f.u.c.k down. My daughter needs me to be her strength. I've got a lot of apologizing to do. I need to fix my broken baby girl.

My phone rings in my pocket, jerking me from my inner hatred. I yank it from my pocket and bark out a harsh, "h.e.l.lo?"

"How is she?" War demands. "Ren told me what he saw during the Skype session-"

"I could have saved her sooner," I snap, interrupting him. "You and your son were supposed to be watching her. How could you not see any of this earlier? The clues were there, were they not?"

The line is quiet for a moment. "Gabe, is Brie safe?"

"Yes. Now answer the f.u.c.king question."

He huffs into the line. "Perhaps if you wouldn't have gone all Bonnie and Clyde with my daughter, you would have noticed the signs your own d.a.m.n self." Even though his words are meant to bite, they don't.

"Your daughter needed me," I hiss back.

"Your daughter needed you." His retort isn't p.i.s.sy...it's matter of fact.

"Jesus," I complain. "This is all my fault."

A commotion in the background on his end grows quiet. "Your other daughter needs you too."

I scrub at my cheek in frustration. I'm f.u.c.king tired as h.e.l.l, having been on a non-stop journey all over the G.o.dd.a.m.ned globe ever since I was first made aware of that sick a.s.shole Heath Berkley. I'd made it my mission to slaughter his a.s.s once Ren told me all about the depraved things he'd done to her. Things he'd witnessed, but also the stories that came from her adopted sister too. I'd called with the intent to check on Toto and ended up slamming my phone down after a long, detailed account of exactly what my daughter had been dealing with.

"How's Hannah? Is she being..."

War sighs and it makes my anxiety spike. "She's being nice. For the most part. We haven't had to restrain her or anything. Toto seems happy to see her."

I let out a breath of relief. "She's still not allowed to be alone with her," I remind him.

"Don't worry," he a.s.sures me. "Bay hasn't let Toto out of her sight since Han showed up."

Thank f.u.c.king G.o.d.

"Are you bringing her back to San Diego?" he questions. "Gabriella can always stay with us in case..." he trails off.

"Hannah loses her s.h.i.+t?"

He huffs. "Bay researched medicines that were okay for Han to take while pregnant. I'm going to order them and have them s.h.i.+pped here as quickly as possible. So maybe-"

War.

Always trusts Hannah can get better.

Hannah will never get better.

That, I know for a fact.

"Get the s.h.i.+t ordered," I grunt.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

I roll my head on my shoulders in an attempt to loosen my tight muscles. "No."

Silence.

"She's been asking for you," he murmurs.

"Speaking to me will just rile her up. We need her calm. Tell her you couldn't get ahold of me," I instruct.

I've been driving in the dark for hours. Long after the ferry ride that was choppy as f.u.c.k due to the storm. I don't know where I'm going but I'm just getting her far the h.e.l.l away from that blood bath.

My poor Brie baby has seen too much blood in her lifetime. Her mother and now her husband. If I could rewrite history for her, I would.

"When are you coming back for the rest of your family?" he questions.

I glance over at my broken daughter and sigh. "I don't know. I need to a.s.sess how she's doing first. As soon as we've landed somewhere, I'll update you."

Before he can get any more words in, I hang up.

Brie sniffles from beside me. Her tired eyes blink open, and then she tells me exactly where she wants to go.

And of course I'll take her there.

Thirty-one hours is a long G.o.dd.a.m.ned drive. We stopped off at some roach-infested hostel before we entered Colombia. I was able to get Brie to take a shower, but she's been in a state of shock. Thankfully, she's slept most of the time.

The GPS signals we're at our location. f.u.c.king finally. I'm not at all comfortable staying here, but we have no choice. We need to rest for a few days before we travel any further. I feel like it's all I've been doing for the past week as I hunted for that p.r.i.c.k Heath. Now that he's no longer a threat, I can focus on my daughter.

She sits up in her seat and squints in the darkness. The house is one of the fancier ones we've seen. I like that it sits on the outskirts of town, far away from any hoodlums. I can keep her safe here for now.

As soon as we park, she clambers out of the vehicle and sprints toward the house. But before she makes it very far, she doubles over and vomits into a bush. I grab the bag I'd stuffed my clothes into, as well as another one I'd filled with some stuff she had at the home on the island. I'm not sure if I grabbed everything she needs, but I didn't want any evidence of her left at the murder scene. I hope I took everything and that she won't get tied back to what happened there.

"Brie baby," I say softly. "Don't just charge in there. Let me make sure it's safe."

She pauses as she starts up the porch steps. Her teary eyes find mine and she nods. "He could be here."

The chilly way in which she says those words causes unease to crawl up my spine. I killed the monster in her world. f.u.c.king stabbed every vital organ I could push my knife into. Heath Berkley can't hurt my daughter ever again. She must still be in shock if she doesn't remember that.

I clutch her shoulder before pa.s.sing her on the porch. Thunder grumbles nearby and I know we've only been given a brief reprieve from the hammering winds and rain. I unsheathe my knife. Soundlessly, I drop our bags to the floor beside the door and twist the k.n.o.b. It turns without resistance, which makes alarm bells ring inside my head. The door makes a squeak of protest when I push inside.

Darkness.