This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)(48)

His face turns an ugly shade of purple and his eyes bug out of his head as he desperately claws at my wrists. This motherf*cker deserves punishment for what he did.

“I will find her,” I grunt out as I squeeze his neck harder and enjoy the hissing sounds coming from him. “And all she’ll have left is me. I’m going to marry her and give her a bunch of f*cking babies. You’ll be a sad, distant memory. The man who sold her. The man who betrayed his own daughter because he was too stupid to realize he was being played by his own best friend. How does it feel, Tony? How does it feel knowing I’m going to ruin you like you ruined your own daughter?”

His eyes flutter closed and his hands slip away from my wrists. I could stop right now. The pulse in his throat is faint but still there. I think. Dragging my gaze away from him, my eyes find the picture of Baylee on the mantle. Her senior picture. She’s wearing a pretty denim jacket over a white lacy dress with cowboy boots. The smile she wears is bright. That girl deserves so much more than the piece of shit parent she was left with.

She deserves me.

With a sigh of frustration, I release my grip. “I’m doing this for you, babe,” I mutter aloud, my gaze still on her picture.




“Where the hell is he?” she screeches from the porch and stomps over to me, jerking me from my memory. “Where the hell is my dad, Brandon?”

I deserve to slay her monsters.

Her hand is already raised, poised and ready to slap my face. As soon as she nears, I snatch her dainty wrist and twist it painfully behind her.

“Ow!” she cries out. “Let me go!”

A crazed laugh rumbles around us and I shiver. For a moment I wonder if it’s Gabe coming back to haunt us but then I realize the laugh is mine.

I deserve her loyalty.

“Did that freak give you this?” I snap and jerk the same wrist up so I can take a closer look at what’s on her arm.

“Stop, Brandon,” she says in a wobbly voice, all her fire snuffed out.

I yank the watch from her arm and heave it as far as I can throw it, which is pretty damn far considering I was a pitcher for the varsity baseball team. If we weren’t standing on sand, I’d have stomped it into a million pieces.

I deserve to spoil her.

“Get in the house, babe,” I grunt. My hand squeezes her forearm as I guide her inside. “We need to talk.”

I’m surprised to find the house unlocked. It makes me wonder if the owners are nearby. Out for an early morning walk or some shit. They’ll regret coming home, that’s for sure.

I deserve to have her all to myself.

She puts up a resistance when I start pushing her toward the stairs. “You promised me you’d take me to my dad. That’s the only reason I left with you. Where is he?”

Ignoring her, I all but drag her up the stairs and down the hallway. When I find the master bedroom, I toss her onto the bed and glare down at her.

I deserve her body.

“Take off your clothes,” I snap.

At first, her eyes widen in shock but then her nostrils flare and she scowls at me. Her cheeks and neck redden but I’ve known her long enough to know it isn’t from embarrassment. She’s pissed. How is it she’s scared shitless of Gabe but I don’t frighten her one bit?

I deserve her fear.

“Baylee Marie Winston,” I bite out, “if you don’t take your goddamned clothes off right now I will cut them off you.” For effect, I yank the knife out of my pocket and wave it at her.

I deserve her terror.

Tears well in her eyes but the fury remains. She’s still not f*cking afraid of me. With her angry eyes locked on mine, she whips off my hoodie. The same hoodie I’d seen her in hundreds of times at school. The hoodie with “Thompson” emblazoned on the back that let every guy at school know she was mine.

Was.

I deserve to give her my last name.

I run my fingers through my hair and let out a rage-filled scream. “Why, Baylee? Why did you do this to us? You used to love ME!”

She crosses her arms over her breasts and glares at me. “Where. Is. My. Dad?”

I deserve her undivided attention.

Storming over to her, I surprise her when I grab onto her jaw, my fingers digging brutally into the flesh. “Naked, babe. You’re still half dressed.” When I drag the knife along her breast and down over her belly, she winces in fear. Fucking finally.

I deserve her hot cunt.

“Okay, Brandon, okay.”

I release her and watch as she shimmies out of her pants. As soon as her perfect * is on display, I ache to taste it. To put my mouth on her hot cunt and remind her of why she loves me—not that bastard in the hospital.

I deserve her entire body.

“What are you going to do?” she demands, her teeth gritting together. I’ll give it to my girl for her bravery—she’s one tough bitch after what Gabe put her through.

I kick my shoes off and start unbuckling my belt. “What I should have done a long time ago.”

I deserve to f*ck her into tomorrow.

She starts to squirm away from me but I seize her ankle and yank her back over to the edge of the bed. “Brandon, don’t do this,” she begs, fear finally threading her words. “This isn’t you.”

I deserve her pleas and screams.