War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 18

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I freeze at his words.

Our babies.

I'm hit by a thousand emotions at once. Joy. Fury. Happiness. Anger. Despair and sadness. Excitement. Dread.

"Oh, f.u.c.k," he grunts and slows to a stop. He lifts up to give me a pained expression. Dark hair that's growing longer hangs down past his eyebrows into his eyes. His full lips are parted as he attempts to find the right words to say.

He becomes a blur as emotion overcomes me. I want to tell him I'm glad he wants to take care of the three of us. I want to explain to him that despite this being a sad time for me, he makes me happy. But none of those things come out. Instead, words I don't mean trickle out. They taste dirty and wrong on my tongue.



"They're my babies," I choke out. "Me and Duvan's babies."

The look of heartbreak on his face makes it feel as though someone is cracking open my chest. He's inside of me with a look of frustration and horror painted on his face. Neither of us move. Both of us are confused about how we're supposed to feel.

"Brie," he murmurs and buries his face against my neck. His thick c.o.c.k pushes deeper inside of me at the action causing me to gasp. "I'm sorry. I just can't help but feel possessive over every part of you. You know I love you. I love them too."

I sob as I clutch his hair. Rocking against him, I urge him to continue f.u.c.king me despite the raging storm of emotions whipping around inside me.

"I won't feel guilty for loving you or them," he bites out, the fierceness something I can feel cutting permanent grooves in my heart. "Not ever."

His words are like an accelerant on my impending o.r.g.a.s.m. My body shudders as I lose myself to the pleasure. All conflicting emotions fly out of me as I allow myself one moment of undiluted bliss. He bucks into me a few more times before his own heat surges into me. When he finishes, we remain tangled up in silence. After some time, he kisses my throat and pulls out of me.

"I'm going to go get us some food," he says in a husky voice, his gaze not meeting mine. "Try and get some rest." His back muscles ripple as he yanks clothes on-the inked tree moving but still unbreakable. He's angry at me. Deservedly so. h.e.l.l, I'm angry at me. Sometimes my emotions are confusing but how I feel about Ren is unwavering. So why did I say something to hurt him? Truth is...I don't know. I wish I were brave enough to climb out of the bed after him and beg him to understand the conflicting slew of emotions wreaking havoc inside of me. The way he's tearing my heart right from my chest and keeping it as his own. He casts one more troubled look at me that makes my heart rate quicken. The flash of anger in his eyes unsettles me.

I want to be yours, Ren.

I want them to be yours.

But the words don't fall from my mouth like I want them to and my bottom lip does nothing but tremble as I watch him walk right out the door.

I clench my eyes closed and will the ache in my chest to subside. When he gets back, I'll explain to him. I'll let him know that he's everything to me. That sometimes I say things I don't mean because the guilt inside of me is a curse I can't escape.

I wasn't supposed to be happy.

But I am.

Because of Ren.

So why is it so hard admitting that out loud?

I wake to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. One look at the clock tells me I've only just fallen asleep. That Ren hasn't been gone more than five minutes.

Ozzy: I found her. She's in bad shape. I need your help.

I blink away my sleep as I sit up.

Me: Where? What happened?

Ozzy: I'm at your front door. Come now. We don't have time to waste.

I jolt into action and throw on some yoga pants. Then, I find one of Ren's hoodies that smells like him to throw on over my T-s.h.i.+rt. I stuff my feet into a pair of Uggs and grab my phone before hurrying downstairs. When I sling the door open, Ozzy stands there looking horrible.

His eyes have dark circles under them and his hair is even longer than the last time I saw him. He's an utter wreck. As soon as he sees me, he grabs my elbow.

"Hurry," he snaps.

I put on the brakes and shake my head. "I need to call Ren."

He rolls his eyes and releases me. "Fine. Do it in the car. Tell him to meet us at her parents' house."

We both climb into Oscar's car and I dial Ren. He doesn't answer, so I leave him a voicemail telling him Ozzy found Vee and that we're headed to her parents' now. I shove the phone back into the pocket of my hoodie and regard my friend. He looks nothing like the boy I remember.

He's a lost, broken man.

"Are you okay?" I question and reach for his hand.

"Peachy," he snaps and jerks his hand away. "Really. What do you think, Brie?"

Tears p.r.i.c.kle at my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of him. He's upset so I'll allow him to be an a.s.s. Under normal circ.u.mstances, I'd be telling him where to stick his att.i.tude. But he managed to find Vee and it sounds bad. If there was ever a time for allowances, the time is now.

Oscar drives easily fifteen miles over the speed limit the entire way there. I'm so lost in thought that I don't even realize we're heading in the opposite direction of her parents' house, until we're pulling into Heath's s.h.i.+pyard.

"Wait," I say, sitting up and pointing through the gla.s.s. "I thought you said we were going to their house."

He gives me a noncommittal shrug as he parks the car and climbs out. I scramble out after him, suddenly wis.h.i.+ng I would have spoken to Ren before I left in such a hurry.

"This way," he tells me over his shoulder as he stalks toward the gate that leads to all the s.h.i.+pping containers.

"Hold on," I blurt as I dial Ren again. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail again. I'm about to leave a message when my phone gets torn from my hand. Oscar's face is positively murderous as he heaves it as far as he can throw it. I gape at him in shock for a long second before I begin to process what just happened.

This was a trick.

Vee isn't here.

But I can bet my entire bank account that his crazy father is.

"s.h.i.+t," I hiss as I back away from him.

He lets out a growl as he charges after me. Oscar is bigger and stronger than me. So when he grabs my elbow, he's easily able to drag me behind him despite my fighting him off. Someone opens the gates, and I yell out to them. The howl of the biting wind seems to carry my voice away, right along with the sunlight. It's dark and grey and dreary...much like what awaits me.

"Help!" I swat at Ozzy. "Let me go!"

He ignores me as he storms along at a breakneck speed. My tears fall freely now. I don't know what's about to happen but every nerve ending in my body promises that it won't be good. I'm dragged through a maze of containers that are stacked on top of each other until he stops in front of one. The door is ajar. Panic immobilizes me as I imagine what sort of horrors wait for me on the other side. When he has trouble getting me to follow, he hooks his arm just under my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and lifts me. I kick and scream to no avail.

The moment we enter the container, a foul stench wafts around me and makes me gag. Oscar hands me off to two larger men who easily wrangle me into a chair. I scream at them to let me go but, within minutes, they have me tied to the chair. Oscar delivers the blow of betrayal when he slaps a strip of duct tape over my mouth.

It's dark inside the container aside from the grey light streaming in from the doorway. I frantically look around to see what I'm up against. There's movement and sound coming from the dark part of the metal cage but I can't see what it is.

Realization hits me like a cold splash of water.

I'm going to die in here.

Both my babies and I are never leaving this box.

As hot tears race down my cheeks, the only thing I can think of is Ren. How as soon as he realizes I'm gone, he'll go mad trying to find me. A sob fights for escape in my throat but the tape keeps it locked away.

"If it isn't the little puta who keeps s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g over my sons," a familiar, heavily accented voice snarls. Camilo. All three of Camilo's sons look a lot like him, but not one, not even Esteban, have that sick gleam in their eyes. Eyes that point to an evil past. And an empty soul. A shudder wracks through me the moment he comes into view. Blood soaks the front of his white dress s.h.i.+rt and a look of rage is painted on his normally cool features. I tremble and shake my head at him pleading for him to not do whatever it is he has planned.

"First, you get my middle son killed because of your precious little bollo," he bites out, gesturing between my legs. "My own business partner betrayed me because he wanted it so bad." He comes to stand right in front of me. "Debiles. Weak." With the toe of his dress shoe, he pokes at me between my spread legs and regards me as if I'm vermin. "What exactly is so special about it? Is it lined with cocaina? What makes grown men estpido over your wh.o.r.e s.n.a.t.c.h?"

I shake and attempt to free myself from the restraints.

"Dnde est mi cuchillo?" he snaps over his shoulder.

My cries become too much with the tape over my mouth and I start to hyperventilate. I frantically look for Oscar in the shadows, but he's nowhere to be found. When Camilo kneels in front of me, I meet his hate-filled gaze. I close my eyes, though, the moment I see the knife in his grip.

G.o.d, please no.

A ripping of fabric has my heart beating right out of my chest. Thankfully, aside from a quick bite or two from the knife against my flesh, he leaves me otherwise unharmed. Naked from the waist down but alive.

"Mirame," he growls. "Look at me."

I'm shaking badly but I open my eyes to meet his gaze. With the tip of the knife, he pokes at the lips of my p.u.s.s.y. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to scare the c.r.a.p out of me.

"My wife's s.n.a.t.c.h was better looking," he observes. "What makes yours so special? I mean, my eldest son broke the rules of our family to f.u.c.k it. Went against our code to put his d.i.c.k inside of you. And we all know how G.o.dd.a.m.ned distraught Oscar was when he found out he wasn't winning this prize." He pokes me again. "Me das asco."

I shake my head and plead with him. He wants answers but he won't let me even speak. A scream resounds from behind the tape the moment he touches me with his pudgy fingers. They prod at me. Tug at my pubic hair. And then, to my horror, enter me. Bile threatens to rise up my throat but being that I have tape over my mouth, I decide I'll do whatever it takes to keep it down.

Closing my eyes, I think of Ren. I think of the way he proudly called these precious babies ours. I'd give anything to rewind a couple of hours and agree that we're his family now. That I want him to take care of us.

That I love him too.

The realization of that fact has me sobbing harder than before. Camilo fingers me almost painfully, but it's better if I disconnect my mind from the physical act.

Ren. Ren. Ren.

G.o.d, I miss him.

If he were here, he'd protect me.

"That's enough, Pap," Oscar snarls from the shadows.

I pop my eyes open to see Camilo glaring in the direction he's in. "Son, I must be honest," Camilo says with a cold laugh as he pulls his fingers from within me. "I don't see what's so f.u.c.king special about her c.u.n.t. But clearly, you see it. It's a G.o.dd.a.m.ned c.u.n.t del otro mundo." He sniffs his fingers and I gag. This seems to anger him though because with a quick, hard swing, he cracks his knuckles across my cheek.

Stars blind my vision for a moment.

"You like that, puta?" He raises his hand like he's going to hit me again but he never strikes.

Oscar emerges from the darkness and glowers at his father. "She's pregnant. That's enough."

Camilo stands, no longer interested in hitting me, and faces off with his son. "Hijo, we talked about this. She's going to pay for what she's done to our family."

Oscar's gaze meets mine, and I see a flash of regret in his eyes. I plead with mine for him to help me. With reluctance, he drags them away to glare back at his father.

"If you have such a problem with my methods, then you exact our revenge," Camilo barks. "Did you want to f.u.c.k her magical p.u.s.s.y once more? By all means, get your rocks off, hijo. The boys and I will leave if that will make you feel better. Rafe, though, stays."

My eyes dart into the darkness. If Rafe is here, maybe he'll help me.

"Fine," Oscar bites out. "Just go."

"If I don't hear the puta screaming in fifteen minutes, I'm coming back to finish the job," Camilo warns. "Esto es tu deber."

His son gives him a clipped nod. Camilo and several other men file out. They shut the doors, leaving us in pitch-black darkness. All that can be heard are my whimpers.

"Why?" Oscar chokes out after several moments. "Why did you f.u.c.k everything up?"

When I don't answer, he walks closer to me. I can sense his presence within touching distance. His breath is ragged, and for the first time, I smell liquor on it. Warm hands clutch my thighs, and I hear his knees bang on the metal as he falls in front of me. I wriggle in my bindings, praying I can get loose.

"If things went differently, you'd be pregnant with my baby," he utters, his words nostalgic almost.

I whimper when his thumbs rub circles on my inner thighs.

"I lost my chance with you. A chance to make my father proud. Then, I lost her. A chance at something else...something good. But both chances were stolen from me. I can't f.u.c.king win," he snips out in a disgusted tone.

His head falls against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and I can really smell the alcohol on him.

"I don't know how to fix this," he admits, his voice ragged with emotion. "I don't want you to die."

When he reaches up and tears the tape from my mouth, I let out the long sob I'd been holding in.

"P-P-Please, Ozzy. Don't let him hurt me. I'm pregnant with twins. Your brother's babies. Don't let them die. Please. You c-can help me. We can get out of this. P-Please," I plead through my tears.

"Shhh," he groans before his mouth presses against mine in a sloppy drunk kiss. "Shhh." His hands roam my body clumsily. "This is all so f.u.c.ked up."

"Just untie me," I plead. "We c-can fix it." My teeth chatter as the terror of my situation completely consumes me.

"My father is right," he says in a husky tone. "There's something about you that we can't ignore." His fingers, much gentler than his father's, prod at my opening. "For so long I wanted to f.u.c.k you, Brie."

"Well, you can't," I bite out, squirming against his unwanted touch. "I'm not yours. But you can do right by your brother and get me out of here. I'm pregnant with two babies. Your brother's babies. Snap the h.e.l.l out of whatever it is you're going through, Ozzy. You're no better than Esteban."

My words have him jerking away from me. I can't see him in the dark but I can hear him pacing on the metal floor.

"I'm not like him," he snaps.

"No and you're not like your father either," I try, my tone gentler. "You're like Duvan. You're good. Please come back to me. I need my friend right now...not this...not this monster your father wants you to be."

Someone beats on the doors and yells, "Ten more minutes."

This seems to jolt Oscar into action. A flashlight comes on and he points it in my face. I squint against it as he starts untying me. Relief floods through me until he jerks me to my feet. He drops the flashlight with a clang and it points into the darkened part of the container from earlier. I let out a scream when I see Rafe tied to a chair in the corner. His eyes have been cut from their sockets and his intestines hang out of his stomach.

War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 18

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War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 18 summary

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