War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 2

But Hannah?

She's like me.

Darker, though. Unpredictable. Certainly not reachable.

Her mind isn't a crevice that can be pushed back together.

No...

Her mind is a black hole.

Empty. Crus.h.i.+ng. Never ending madness.

Anything that gets sucked up into her twisted vortex gets decimated. She ruins people. Lives. Hearts.

Which is why I watch her every move. Just like in our chess games. It is absolutely imperative I learn everything I can about her darkness. Because if I understand it, then I can keep her away from it. Keep my once sweet baby girl in the light. Gabe, surprisingly, keeps her fairly level-headed. But he doesn't understand her. He feeds her inner monster when she's ravenous. He protects her from herself. And protects those he loves from her. But he simply doesn't get her. Not like I do.

One day, I'll learn about her black hole.

I will figure out her inner algorithms. Crack the code of her head. Cross all the Ts and dot all the Is. I'll turn her black hole inside out. I'm so sure of it.

By the time I push into Ren's bedroom, he's standing with his back to me, his shoulders tense. When I reach out and pat his back, he flinches. It's then that I see the bandages sticking out of the neck of his s.h.i.+rt.

"Did you add more to it?" I question.

He turns to regard me. My sweet son-always the boy who did what he could to please Bay and I-is gone. After witnessing the bloodshed online recently, he's been a little f.u.c.ked up. His steely blue eyes are hardened. All the softness of my son is hidden from me. He clenches his jaw and glares. "I got it filled in."

I'm not one hundred percent on board with my oldest son getting a full back tattoo, but it seems to be therapeutic for him. It started not long after Brie officially moved on from him. Every couple of weeks, he'd get more added on. But after the ma.s.sacre, he's seemed almost obsessed with finis.h.i.+ng it.

"Can I see?" I question.

He shakes his head. "Later. Why is she still here?"

Ren. Straight to the point. Just like his mother.

I let out a sigh of frustration. "We're the only ones who can look after her properly until Gabe gets back. It's not safe for her to be alone..." I trail off. We both know why.

His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. "I want access to my trust fund."

I gape at his sudden change of discussion. "Why?"

"I'm moving the f.u.c.k out of here. The dorms are just temporary, and when I'm not there, I have to come back here. And I can't stay here any longer. This isn't home," he seethes. "Not when that monster prances around as if nothing happened." He rips at his hair and lets out a guttural growl. "Everything happened."

My heart races in my chest. Thump. Thump. Thump. I try to focus on my boy rather than the urge to count the loud beats. He needs me. He needs my focus.

"I can give you your money," I tell him, my voice hoa.r.s.e. "But, Ren, I really wish you would reconsider-"

"THERE IS NOTHING TO RECONSIDER!"

His entire body quakes with rage. Both of his hands are fisted. My son is no longer a boy. He stands taller than me. Nineteen looks good on him. The past couple of months, he's spent more time in our home gym than anywhere else, and his muscles have really filled out. He avoids Hannah at all costs. Lives in his headphones with his music blasting continuously to block out his family.

It's cutting my chest wide open.

I want to fix my boy.

But right now, I have to fix my daughter.

Ren is smart. He'll figure it out. The kid just needs his s.p.a.ce.

"I'll write you a check in the morning. Whatever you need," I a.s.sure him. My tone sounds resigned to the fact that Ren will only heal if he gets away from his sister, who was instrumental in his life being torn apart.

"Thank you," he manages. Barely. He turns and starts yanking clothes from his dresser and shoving them into a bag. I'm leaned against the wall watching him when the door squeaks open. When Hannah's blonde head comes into view, I open my mouth to ask her to leave us be.

But Ren sees her before I get a chance to.

"Get out," he snarls, his muscled arm quivering with rage as he points at the door behind her. "Get the f.u.c.k out of my room and out of my G.o.dd.a.m.ned life!"

She tenses at his words and shoots me a sad look. "Ren-"

He stalks over to her with lightning speed. I tense, preparing myself to yank him away if his temper flares any more. His finger points at her chest as he glares down at her. Their bodies are nearly touching. "I hate you, Han. Do you understand that in your f.u.c.ked-up little head? Hate."

Tears well in her eyes. "You don't mean that."

He scoffs, narrowing his gaze. "Every word. You ruined my life. You ruined Brie's life."

She tenses at the mention of Brie. I know this look too. The look she regards Bay with on occasion. The one she flashes to Toto at times. I'm not at all comfortable with this look. It's one that screams: I could make you disappear with a snap of my fingers.

I f.u.c.king hate the look.

"Okay, you two," I grumble and grab Ren's elbow. I drag him away from her and stand between them. "Han, go to bed. Ren, pack your stuff. We'll talk about this later when tempers aren't hot."

Tears roll down my daughter's cheeks and she launches herself into my arms for a hug. I know those tears, though. They aren't real. They aren't genuine. They're the ones she uses to get what she wants. Right now, she wants Ren to forgive her.

Unfortunately, I don't think Ren will ever forgive her.

"We'll talk soon, son," I say to him, giving him a nod of my head.

"Yep," he grunts out before he goes back to packing.

I usher Hannah out of his room and into hers. We don't speak as I give her the pills that seem to be helping. Once she's settled into bed, I kiss her goodnight and shut the door. Now that she's not acting so crazy, I don't have to lock her in the room at night.

But Baylee and I lock ourselves in our room.

With both Mason and Toto.

You can never be too sure with Hannah.

By the time I make it back to my bedroom, Ren's already gone. I hear the thump of his ba.s.s as he peels away.

Poor kid.

My bedroom is dark, aside from the glow from the closet. Toto sometimes gets scared, so we leave it on for her. She's pa.s.sed out in her pack-n-play. Her blonde curls glow in the light from the closet. G.o.d, I love that little girl. Next, I peek in on Mason. He's in a basinet beside Baylee. She swaddled him up, and he looks serene sucking on his pacifier. The boy looks just like Ren did at that age. My heart swells at how beautiful our children are.

"Come to bed," Bay murmurs in her thick, sleepy voice.

I peel off my T-s.h.i.+rt and shove down my lounge pants. As I crawl into our bed, I'm a.s.saulted with her scent. It's a permanent happy place in my mind. So feminine and clean and just Baylee.

"What was all the yelling about?" she asks in a whisper.

I haul her to me and press a kiss to her forehead. "Hannah and Ren." Our eyes meet, both of us wearing matching frowns. "He wants access to his trust fund. He's moving out, baby."

A storm brews in her eyes, and she chews on her bottom lip for a moment while she contemplates my words. After a moment, she darts her eyes to mine. "I don't want him to go, but maybe he'll be happier."

I nod and slide my palm to her hip before slipping it under her s.h.i.+rt to stroke the delicate flesh on her back. "He needs his s.p.a.ce. It's better to let him have his money than for him to quit college or something."

Her fingers skim over my chest and she sniffles. "Everything is a mess right now, War."

I lean forward and capture her lips. So soft. So f.u.c.king supple. "This mess is ours. We're the only ones who can clean it up. This mess is our responsibility." I kiss her deep enough to draw out a needy moan from her. "But we will get it cleaned up. Then we can be happy again."

Pus.h.i.+ng her onto her back, I lick away her tears as I strip her out of her clothes. We've only been able to go back to having s.e.x in the last couple of weeks. Thankfully, though, we don't have to worry about birth control because she got her tubes tied after Mason.

"War..." My name on her lips is a prayer. She needs me to fix it all for her. Of course I will. I'll always owe her for fixing me.

"Shhh," I murmur against her mouth as I part her legs and settle myself between them. I tug my hardened c.o.c.k from my boxers and tease her wet opening. Then, with a low growl, I push into my perfect wife.

Once I'm seated deep inside her heat, I lift up to look at her. "I love you, Bay."

Her fingernails dig into me and her heels press into my a.s.s as she urges me to f.u.c.k her. I suck on her sweet tongue as I deliver the thrusts she wants. Exactly the way she likes them. Exactly the right pace.

With every pound into her tight body, I feel my own climax taunting me. It's so close, but I don't want to lose control unless she's unraveling with me. Now that we have two small kiddos to deal with, our s.e.xual times have been limited. I want her to o.r.g.a.s.m and give me all of her, even if only briefly.

"Come all over my c.o.c.k, baby," I urge. My fingers slip between us and I ma.s.sage her swollen c.l.i.t. Having been married for nearly two decades, I know exactly where to touch her. I know how many seconds it will take her to explode with pleasure the moment I find her sweet spot.

"Oh," she moans in the softest of whispers.

Her body clenches around mine. It drives me mad with need. My nuts tighten for a brief moment before I'm draining my desire into her.

"G.o.d," I say with a grunt and nip at her bottom lip. "You make the hottest sounds when I f.u.c.k the pleasure out of you."

She lets out a quiet laugh and grins up at me. Her blue eyes sparkle. "War?"

"Yeah, Bay?"

"I am happy." She palms my cheek. "Everything is a mess, no doubt about it. But I'm happy. As long as you're here taking care of me and the kids, my life is complete. You're a good man."

I flash her a lopsided grin. My c.o.c.k, which had been softening, hardens up rather quickly. "I'm about to make you happy again. Then, we're going to shower." I buck into her hard enough to make her yelp. The time for sweetness is over. It's now time to bring out her claws. I f.u.c.king love it when she digs them into me. "And after we shower, you'll make me happy too when you let me suck on that sensitive c.l.i.t of yours. It's been far too long, baby."

My hips buck powerfully into her. The pain of her fingernails has me groaning with pleasure.

"Don't stop," she begs against the sh.e.l.l of my ear.

I'll never stop.

I'M BROKEN.

Used up.

Empty.

f.u.c.king lost.

The pillow beneath me is soaked from my tears. Days and days. They all bleed together. I'm lost inside this vortex of pain. Unsure where it all starts and where it ends. One thing's for sure, though.

Duvan's not here with me.

Heath ripped him away from me. He came into my life, one last time, and took what never belonged to him. The ache in my chest intensifies. A pain unlike one I've ever known claws from within me. It's like a caged beast desperate to escape. But G.o.d has punished me-again-for some reason. Because, this time, I'm to manage this beast all on my own. This beast of despair devoured the old one within me. Before that, I only thought it was bad after my mother was taken from me. Now, I realize it wasn't a beast at all. Just some sad little animal.

But the feral animal in me now is not small at all. It's devastated and crushed and growing by the second. The animal is also very angry. She has a thirst for blood. The one she wanted to devour is already gone. That only leaves the thirst for one man.

Esteban.

The cravings that used to surge through me were because of what he could give me. The heroin. Heated bliss that stole all the pain away. I know that if I wanted it again, I could figure it out myself this time. I could drive into the city, purchase the product, and get high.

If I wanted to.

If I didn't have Duvan's baby growing inside of me.

But I don't want to.

The craving when I think about Esteban now isn't about the drugs. It's about making him bleed. It's about punis.h.i.+ng him because he deserves it after all he's done. It's about vengeance. I want him to be the recipient of the pain I can't dole out to Heath because he's dead.

Esteban will be the one to pay for the sins of Heath.

I want his blood to coat my fingers as I cut his heart from his chest.

Swiping a tear from my cheek, I sit up and look over at Duvan's empty spot. The first night we'd arrived back home, Daddy tried to comfort me. As soon as the bed dipped with his weight, I screamed at him to leave. I was so afraid he'd steal away the lingering scent Duvan left. That he'd take away the memories of my husband.

Plus, I didn't want Daddy's comfort.

My heart still bleeds from when he left me. When he took off with my mother's murderer. As grateful as I was that he saved me from Heath, I still can't help but be angry with him.

The tears constantly roll down my cheeks. But it isn't sadness that is threatening to eat me alive. It's fury and hate and anger. I've welcomed them wholeheartedly. Those fiery emotions don't hurt. They crave to do the hurting.

I want to make someone pay for all the wrongs that were done to me.

My eyes settle on a frame on Duvan's bedside table. It's a selfie of the two of us. One of those times when we were curled up watching movies together. Back when we were happy-just like he always wished for me to be.

I'll never be happy again.