War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 22

With a smile, I rub my belly. "Are you sure you can paint those stripes? I think this looks harder than the YouTube video tutorial."

He looks over his shoulder and gives me a smoldering look. "Keep mouthing off and I'll have to keep that pretty mouth busy so I can paint in peace."

Laughing, I shoot him the bird. "Real funny."

We're quiet again as he paints. Ren truly is beautiful both inside and out. Sometimes I worry I don't tell him that enough.

"I love you," I blurt out.

He gives me a lopsided grin over his shoulder that has my heart thumping in my chest. "I love you too."

When he goes back to painting, I have the urge to say more. "I know I don't tell you enough but you mean the world to me. You were always there for me. n.o.body has been there every step of the way like you have." My chin wobbles.

He sets his brush down and struts over to me. I find myself ogling this s.e.xy-a.s.s man who I can proudly call mine. His fingers grip my jaw, and he tilts my head up so he can kiss me. It's brief and sweet, but it knocks me over with his love. With Ren, I feel it rippling from him at all times. With Ren, I never feel his love waver.

"Thank you," I murmur against his warm lips.

He pulls away and something like pride shines in his eyes as he regards me. "Loving you is easy, Brie. Nothing about it ever feels like a ch.o.r.e. It's a gift. So thank you for my gift." He winks at me before making his way over to his project.

My mind is on thoughts of our future. One where Ren is my husband and these kids call him Daddy. Thoughts of us going to T-ball games together, dinners and holidays with his wonderful family, late nights where he and I worship each other's bodies, family pictures and school plays. Normalcy. The American dream.

Love.

Ours.

My phone starts to ring and I see it's Daddy calling. He probably wants to drop by and visit. I refuse to admit it to anyone but I'm in love with my new little brother. It gives me a sneak peek of what it will be like to have my own babies. Sometimes, I hold baby Land for hours and inhale his sweet scent. Daddy is smart enough to leave the psycho with her parents when he brings my siblings by.

"Hey," I answer as my eyes drag back over to Ren. He's been able to work out a little more here and there. Painting will probably leave him tired, but he's insistent. I admire his back muscles while Daddy hisses on the other line. It takes me a second to pull my attention back to my phone call. "Wait? What? Say that again," I demand.

"Esteban escaped from the hospital," he snarls. "Tell Ren to put a bullet through anyone's skull who tries to come into your house."

Ren, sensing my distress, is already stalking over to me, wearing an alarmed expression.

"But he hasn't told them where Vee is yet," I mutter. "He can't escape. We have to find her."

Daddy grumbles on the line. "I'm sorry about your friend, but that's the least of my worries right now. My worry is your safety. I'll be over in fifteen minutes. Call your f.u.c.kface friend, who still has a death sentence."

When he hangs up, I stare up at Ren.

"What is it?" he demands and falls to his knees in front of me. He takes my hand and kisses the top of it. Fierce love and protectiveness shine in his gaze.

"Esteban escaped." I blink in shock. Then, I dial my "f.u.c.kface friend who still has a death sentence." I will not let my dreams and future with Ren be compromised by a madman.

"Ahhh, carino. Ready for the big D?" his deep voice purrs as he answers.

I swallow and choke out my words. "It..It's Esteban. He escaped."

His breath rushes out in a hiss. "Ever since he got to you a few days ago, I've had men parked on your street watching. He won't get to you," he a.s.sures me.

"I'm not worried about me." And I'm not. At least not one hundred percent. This is bigger. "We have to find him. When we find him, we find her."

Diego chuckles on the other end. "Are you asking me for a favor, carino?"

"Por favor."

HE LEFT ME.

Promised to bring me something that would make me happy. What a ridiculous concept. Happy. I don't even understand what that means anymore. How can one be happy in a metal box with no light, no entertainment, no one to talk to? Nothing.

My stomach growls and the pains are too much to bear. I've slowly been starving to death. At first, I picked through the rations and attempted to share them with my mother. But she was too far gone on the heroin to care. She screamed and clawed, and at one point, tried to attack me as if I held her precious drug prisoner.

Newsflash, we were the prisoners.

But then the strangest thing happened. She stopped screaming and hissing and fighting. She stopped breathing altogether. And the moment it all became quiet, I let out a sigh of relief. My mother died from withdrawals. From a drug she'd never touched until Esteban forced it into her vein. And I was glad.

Not that I didn't love her.

I did.

Truly.

But she became some savage beast the moment he put us in this cage. He took joy in making her dependent on him for a simple high. But I depended on him for something altogether different.

A sob escapes me but no tears roll out. Sometimes I wish he had forced the heroin on me. Mom was blissed out of her mind for most of the months we've been here. I've been clear headed. I have been awake and coherent every time he's come for me.

I imagine his large body curled around mine. At one time it made me shudder. At one time I hated him. Hated that he stole so much from me. But now, I miss him. I miss his warmth. I miss his words in my lonely world. I miss the food he would feed me.

Why did he leave me?

I know I won't survive much longer without him. Mom's body has begun to decompose over in the corner. She didn't last a full day without the constant stream of drugs in her system. Since she didn't have medicine to help her withdrawal, she simply shut down. Her moans and screams are no more, but now I'm completely alone.

My mind begs to think about my past. Dad and Brie. Oscar. Even Ren and Calder. The funny thing is, though, I can't remember any of them. Oscar's face, because it's so similar to Esteban's, is the only one I can clutch onto through the haze.

Each and every time I attempt to remember my friends and family, only one frighteningly handsome face comes to mind. And I miss it. I would give myself willingly to him if he would just come back and save me from this slow, painful death.

Diabla Roja.

I smile in the darkness and touch the thin mattress where he used to sleep with me sometimes. If I close my eyes, I can almost smell him. Spicy and manly. In the early days, he would take my o.r.g.a.s.ms. I'd fought him tooth and nail, but in the end, I always gave in. Gave him what he wanted-what we both wanted.

"Diabla Roja."

I start crying because now I'm delirious. I can almost hear him. Am I dying?

"Shhhhh."

It's as though his palms are whispering touches along my outer arm. As if his fingers are running through my ratty red hair.

"You're alive." His phantom voice sounds real. Pained and desperate and relieved. "Can you stand, Roja?"

I blink slowly and roll toward the sounds that tease me. It's dark but I see his shadow looming above me. "Esteban?" I croak.

His palm strokes my cheek. "I went to fetch her for you. So you wouldn't cry so much," he tells me, his voice sad. "But then that motherf.u.c.ker put me in the hospital. All I could think about was how you were starving here."

A tear slides down my temple. This is real. He came back for me. "I don't want her," I rasp out. "I need you."

He grunts as if he's in pain but he manages to scoop my weak frame from the mattress on the floor. With labored breaths, he carries me right past my mother's rancid body and out of the metal box. It's the first time in months I've left this prison. I let out a relieved sob and cling to his shirt.

"Shhh," he murmurs as he carries me through the darkness. Gently, he loads me into the car. As he drives, I simply stare at him. Such a simple gift, the gift of sight, I'm able to use on him. Drinking in his every feature. His longish black hair normally remains slicked back but today hangs in his eyes. Those calculating, nearly black eyes that dart over to me every so often. The scruff on his cheeks that my fingers crave to touch. We drive for what seems like forever until he pulls up to a secluded house on the beach.

"Where are we?" I'm shivering despite his hand constantly rubbing on my thigh in an oddly comforting manner.

"One of my father's safe houses. I sometimes stay here when I need to keep a low profile," he tells me before climbing out of the car. I don't have the energy to move. When he opens my car door, I drag my gaze to look at him in the moonlight. He reminds me of a hungry wolf. Starved for me.

Well, I'm starved too.

"I'm hungry," I tell him.

He nods and scoops me up. "I know, Roja. I'm going to fix you right up."

My heart thunders at his words. I believe them. I want him to fix me.

I'm in a daze for the next few hours. He feeds me broth and holds me. Eventually, he gets me under the hot spray of the shower. After not having properly bathed in months, it feels like heaven. I bawl until the water runs cold and I'm hiccupping and he has to carry my shivering body out. When he sets me on the bed, panic races up my spine. I clutch onto the front of his shirt and whine.

"Don't leave me."

His brows furrow and he strokes my wet hair. "Never again."

I wake for the first time in what feels like forever, comfortable and warm. A big hot body is draped over me. I'm not sure if he's trying to keep me from running or to keep me warm. I burrow further beneath him to seek out his protection. My movement wakes him as well.

"Let me see you," he murmurs, his voice gruff with sleep.

I tilt my head up and stare into his nearly black eyes. At one time, they terrified me. Months ago, when he'd take what he wanted whenever he wanted, I feared him with every fiber of my being. I prayed for someone to come save me.

n.o.body came.

And then the strangest thing happened. I became reliant on him. He was the only person who wanted me. Everyone else forgot about me. So, soon, despite my outward denial, I came to look forward to his late night visits. I would bask in his expert touches and come from his fingers on my own accord. I'd never admitted I wanted him until now.

"I was so lonely," I choke out, my eyes welling with hot tears. "I thought I was going to die."

He lets out a fierce growl before his mouth finds mine. In the past, whenever he'd kiss me, I never partic.i.p.ated. I'd lain there like a dead doll. Now, I crave his mouth more than the broth I desperately downed last night. My mouth parts and I shove my tongue into his. Every nerve ending in my body fires to life. I squirm with the need for him to touch me everywhere.

"What's come over you?" he murmurs against my lips as his palm roams over my round breast. He tweaks the nipple, which makes me cry out. Then, his hand trails down south toward my p.u.s.s.y.

"I...I...I just need..."

His finger grazes my c.l.i.t and I jolt with a moan. A growl of approval resounds from him and it seems to stroke my poor, fragile heart. I want him to be happy with me. I want to be enough.

"Open your legs, Roja. Let me see you," he murmurs, his lips trailing down to my throat.

Like a wh.o.r.e, I jerk my knees apart to give him what he wants. His finger dips inside me dragging a mewl from me. "Oh, please...I need more."

He nips at my neck just as he inches another finger inside me. Before Esteban, I was a virgin. That first time had been painful, but every other time was surprisingly pleasure filled.

"Always so wet for me, Roja," he praises, his fingers working magic on my insides. "I see you've finally come to learn who owns this perfect c.u.n.t."

I nod and bite my lip. His mouth kisses along my chest until he has my pebbled nipple between his teeth. I grab my knee and pull it toward me. His two fingers aren't enough. I crave him. Deeper. Harder. His c.o.c.k stretching me wide.

"What do you want?" he questions as his thumb begins working lazy circles on my c.l.i.t while he f.u.c.ks me with two fingers.

"I need you," I moan. "Please."

His fingers slip out of me, and I yelp at the loss. I'm squirming and helpless as he grabs a condom from the end table. It takes all of ten seconds to sheath his c.o.c.k, but it's ten seconds too long. Thankfully, he climbs on top of me and suffocates me with his addicting presence. Our eyes lock when the tip of his c.o.c.k teases my opening in a delightful way.

"You want this?" he demands, his free hand delicately stroking my throat.

I grab his wrist and nod.

With a powerful thrust, he drives into me. Hard. I scream in pleasure as I desperately claw his shoulders. He winces in pain but then quickly finds his stride. Esteban drives into me as if this single act will mold my soul to his.

I close my eyes and give myself to him.

The dead heart in my chest belongs to this man. It may not beat, but it's his.

"You belong to me, Roja," he growls, his grip on my throat tightening.

I let out a hissed "yessss" as my body ripples with desire. His mouth hovers over mine as he f.u.c.ks me senseless. I become an animal the moment my o.r.g.a.s.m explodes through me and I claw his flesh, needing to crawl inside him. His grunts and then the swelling of his c.o.c.k tells me he finds his release too.

Esteban relaxes on me and nuzzles his nose against my ear. It's perfection, and I don't want to leave this moment. But then the phone on the bedside table is ringing and he's leaving me to answer it. I lick my lips as I watch him pull the wet condom off his large c.o.c.k. He smirks as he answers. The voice on the other line is familiar. It jolts me out of my s.e.x-induced fog and sends a shiver of memories down my spine. I can't make out all the words but I do hear some.

Thump.

Thump.

Why does my chest hurt?

"This is war, brother. We're going to slaughter every single one of Diego's men. Then..." The line goes quiet for a moment. "Then we take back our empire."

Thump.

Oscar.

Thump.

My simple world consisting of me and Esteban f.u.c.king all day suddenly dissipates as clarity sets in.

Thump.

I'm going to see Oscar.