This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)(13)

Tears well in her eyes and I slide a hand into her messy hair, drawing her to me. Those lips. Those perfect lips need kissing and tasting. She needs me to make it all better. Her mouth parts open and I can almost taste her sweet tongue on mine. But when I’m inches away, she slaps her palm over my mouth and widens her eyes.

“You can’t kill him,” she hisses. “At least not until I have answers from him.”

A growl rumbles through my chest but one shake of her head silences me.

“Help me tie him up. I know where he keeps all the f*cking rope.” Her words drip with hate and venom. She doesn’t need to tell me what he’s done to her—her demeanor tells me enough.

Rape.

Torture.

Mind games.

Her crazed eyes tell me so.

“Yeah,” I agree with a huff once she releases my mouth and sits up. “But when you’re done, he’s dead. Fucking dead.”

Tears well in her eyes and she gives me a clipped nod. “The rope is in the bedroom closet.”

She slides off me, and despite the day’s chaos, I immediately miss her heat. Hopefully, soon I’ll have her in my arms where she belongs. When I stand, I nudge the gun to her. “If he moves, shoot him.”

Her blue eyes find mine and she gives me a small smile. “With pleasure.”




Gabe hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s not going anywhere. I’ve made sure of that. He’s tied to a chair in the kitchen with a dishrag, Baylee’s idea, gagging his mouth shut. Once he was secure, I watched her as she slipped into some sort of trance.

Her once lithe, toned body now appears wilted and fragile. Skin that used to glow from a year-round California tan, is lackluster and washed out. Blonde hair that used to hang in silken waves in front of her shoulders is now tangled and dull.

But the part of her that’s the most different are her eyes.

Her sparkling, innocent blues have been replaced.

They’re darker now. They hold secrets—secrets that will probably haunt her for the rest of her life, and I wonder if she’ll ever find the strength to divulge them. Her eyes bear the pain she’s endured and I’d give anything to make it go away. To see the soft look she used to gaze at me with once again.

“I brought you some things. You should shower and dress,” I say softly, letting my eyes drag over her scantily clad body. When I’d rescued her, she’d been wearing nothing but a T-shirt despite the frigid morning air.

I cringe to think what would have happened had I not been released on bail sooner. If my mom hadn’t have thrown a hissy fit to get me out of there, despite the fact I hit my father. The moment I was released, I was back in my truck, hauling ass out to this cabin, without so much as a muttered word of thanks.

I was almost too late.

But I wasn’t.

I’d been there at exactly the right time.

It was fate.

“You think he’ll bleed to death?” Her whispered words draw me from my mind and I follow her stare to Gabe. His head is leaning forward and his eyes are closed. After I shot him, he’d thrown on a T-shirt and the blood from his wound has soaked the sleeve. But it’s not gushing. I had only clipped him—barely grazed the bastard.

“I wish,” I huff and run a hand through my unruly hair, my newest habit, “but I think it’s just a flesh wound. He’ll probably be just fine.”

She nods and leaves the room without another word. With a sigh, I trot out to the truck and retrieve my bag. Once back inside, I hear the shower running so I make my way into the bedroom and set to pulling out some things for her.

The room reeks of sex.

Of him and her.

Together. In this f*cking bed.

It nauseates me.

She hasn’t told me what he’s done to her, but I know. He was inside of her, tarnishing not only her virginity, but her sanity. Baylee’s different. How could she not be? And I hate what he’s done to her.

I’m lost in my thoughts when she emerges, wearing only a towel. The circumstances are shit, but I can’t help the way my cock thickens at the sight of her. We can finally be together. I’ll finally be able to make love to her, make her feel safe again.

“Do you feel better?” I question with a hoarse voice.

Her eyes meet mine for a brief second before she drops them to the floor. Taking her cue, I walk over to the window to stare out while she dresses.

“You brought my favorite hoodie,” she murmurs softly, ignoring my question. “Thank you.”

She shuffles around behind me dressing, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and watch her. But she’s been through too much. I won’t victimize her too.

“If I remember correctly, it’s my hoodie,” I tease, a smile hinting at my lips. “You stole it.”

A small chuckle escapes her and it’s bliss—f*cking bliss to hear it again. Her perfect, throaty laugh. “It looks better on me anyway.”

I can’t help but peek over my shoulder at her. She’s already slid on her yoga pants over her panties and is tugging the hoodie over her head. Her small breasts—bare because I didn’t think to grab any bras—jiggle as she pulls it on. Before her head pokes through, I turn away and adjust my erection. “That it does, babe.”

The bed squeaks behind me as she sits. I turn to see her slipping on her socks and tennis shoes. It bothers me that she’s sitting on that bed—a bed they shared last night—but I refrain from saying so. Instead, I stride over to her and sit beside her. My arm snakes around her waist and I hug her to me. She winces and freezes in my arms which only serves to anger me. It makes me want to jerk away from her and go back to the kitchen so I can beat the f*ck out of Gabe.