War And Peace: This Is Me, Baby Part 6

"Wait," he barks out. "Danilo!"

Another man walks into the office, this one dressed as nice as Diego, and carries a briefcase.

"We still have to sign a few things, carino," he tells me. "My attorney will get them ready for us. Then you're free to go."

The next twenty minutes are torture. He won't quit staring at me as if he's going to eat me. And my heart aches knowing my husband's wedding ring sits in his pocket. I scribble my signature on the necessary doc.u.ments all the while counting down the seconds until I can leave.

Once we're finished and his attorney stacks the papers in the briefcase, Diego regards me with a wolfish grin.

"Nice doing business with you, Gabriella Rojas. I never expected things to go so..." His words trail off as his gaze drops between my legs. "Beautifully."

I storm away from him toward the door. Once I wrench it open, I glare at him over my shoulder. "I want my ring back. I suggest you find a way to make that happen sooner rather than later."

"Ahh," he chuckles. "Another threat by the feisty little fox."

"It's tigress to you, a.s.shole."

IT'S BEEN A MONTH since I sold my soul to the devil at the tune of twelve million dollars. He hasn't messed with me anymore but he also still hasn't returned my ring. I've managed to finally sell the house and have liquidated the last of Duvan's a.s.sets.

Everything has gone well.

Too well, in fact.

And that keeps me on alert.

Camilo and Esteban are still nowhere to be found. Vee is still in hiding. I've been waiting for something bad to happen but each day is just another day. One more day further away from the last time I saw Duvan.

My belly is still small. I've finally started to get over my morning sickness. At least a little bit. Luciana gets me to eat and Daddy gets me to talk. After that day at the warehouse, I'd found my dad's beaten body lying beside our vehicle. Rafe was bleeding from his nose but wasn't in as bad of shape. I learned from Rafe that my father went crazy when he found out I was alone with Diego. They had to beat the h.e.l.l out of him to keep him from interrupting our business.

I still never told him exactly what happened.

And I never will.

If he knew that Diego had been all over me and throwing out threats left and right, he'd have murdered that creep and brought the entire cartel's wrath down upon us. A shudder ripples through me. That will be a secret I keep to myself for as long as I live.

I walk through the now fairly empty house. Ren told me to ship the important stuff to his townhouse and that he'd keep up with it until I was ready to come for it. Everything else, we sold with the house.

Speaking of Ren, I haven't been able to get ahold of him for a few days. It is weird not to talk to him. After a month of Skyping every day, I feel isolated and all alone by not getting to hear his voice. Even if we don't really talk that much.

Tomorrow morning, Daddy, Luciana, and I have planned to fly out of Colombia. I'm equal parts sad and happy. On one hand, I'll be happy to leave the nightmare behind. But by leaving the nightmare, I'll also be abandoning my memories with Duvan. As much as I would rather stay and raise my baby in this house where we can feed the chickens every day, I know it isn't safe for my child. Not with people like Esteban and Diego lurking about.

In America, we can be free from all of this.

I push down my yoga pants and kick out of them. It's late and even though I'm not tired, I know I'll be exhausted on the trip tomorrow. I need to try and sleep at least. Duvan's old T-shirt swallows my small frame and my swollen bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s hang heavy beneath the fabric. I've outgrown all of my bras lately. I'll definitely have to do some shopping in California. I switch off the overhead light and am just crawling into our bed for the last time, when I hear a crash downstairs.

I scramble across the bed to the table where I keep a gun. I'll never feel one hundred percent safe, especially here, but the gun sure helps. Men are shouting downstairs. More crashing. On shaky legs, I slide off the bed and frantically look for a place to hide. I'm just darting toward the bathroom when I hear footsteps thundering up the stairs. My heart lurches in my throat. I freeze and instantly hate myself for not running. It's almost as if I'm waiting for...

The door swings open and a madman enters. Blood trickles from his bottom lip. The muscles in his neck are taut with tension. His brown hair is messy and overgrown. It hangs into his eyes, making him appear as though he's some untamed animal. His cheeks are scruffy and his jaw is sharp. The black Soundgarden T-shirt molds to his sculpted body. I'm frozen in shock, no longer in fear.

"Ren?"

"Your dad's an a.s.shole," he utters, his hands fisted. He seems to snap out of his rage and his eyes skim over my clothing while his gaze softens. He wipes the blood away from his bottom lip with the back of his hand before he flashes me a grin I remember from when times were simpler. "Do I get a hug?" When our eyes meet again, a familiar glimmer flickers in his.

I jolt out of my shocked stance, set the gun down on the end table, and run over to him. He doesn't wait, stalking toward me to meet halfway. The moment he gathers me in his arms, I relax. I relax for the first time in over a month. All of my friends, aside from Luciana, have gone radio silent. All but this friend.

This friend is here.

Hugging me so tight, I think I might break.

Inhaling my hair as if I'm a delicate and rare rose.

Muttering out words of relief.

"Jesus," he utters, embracing me tighter. "It's been forever since I've hugged you."

I let out a laugh but it soon turns into tears. The relief is overwhelming, and I lose myself to it. Within seconds, I'm sobbing so hard, I think I might collapse. When my knees buckle, Ren slides his strong arm under my legs and lifts me. I cry against his chest, soaking his shirt as he carries me over to my bed. At first, I stiffen because if he crawls into this bed with me, it'll be his scent that replaces Duvan's. The thought terrifies me. But tomorrow it won't matter, anyway. I'll be gone. The idea of Ren holding me like old times seems to soothe my battered heart.

His scent is comforting too.

The springs groan in protest when Ren sets me down on the bed. He kicks off his shoes and scoots in beside me. As soon as he drags the covers over us, I clutch his T-shirt and bury my face against him. His fingers stroke through my hair. I cry for my loss. For the unfairness of this life. For the a.s.saults I've suffered. The men who have abused me. I cry for my child who will never know its father. I cry for...me.

Ren, just like on our Skype sessions, doesn't speak. His strength speaks volumes. It steadies me. Roots me into the ground so I don't blow away in the wind. Like the gnarly branches of his tree tattoo, he holds me against his solid frame, keeping me safe from the awful world I know.

When my tears finally dry up and all that can be heard is Ren's soft breathing, I look up at him. The lamp light casts dark shadows on his face. It's so different than I remember. Where is the smile that used to light up his whole face? Where are his blue eyes that would twinkle with delight when he saw me?

Ren is different, just like me.

He's seen unspeakable horrors. I've lived them.

He's teetered an impossible line with his sister. She stole from me.

He's lost his love. I've lost my love.

Our hearts have been slayed and left for dead.

The innocence we once knew has been obliterated. There's no collecting those pieces and putting them back together again.

"Did you and Daddy get in a fight?" I murmur in question.

His eyes that had been staring off toward the window find mine. A storm brews in his dark gaze. It makes me shiver. Thinking I'm cold, he pulls me tighter. Absently, he presses a kiss to my forehead and it stills my racing heart. "Your dad thought I was someone else. Three months ago, he'd have probably been able to gut my a.s.s. Unfortunately for him, I've been spending a lot more time lifting than he has. We scuffled until he realized it was me, and that I wasn't coming here to kill you. Now he's downstairs on the phone with my dad, b.i.t.c.hing."

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. Poor Daddy has done nothing but either kick a.s.s or get his a.s.s kicked since he came for me. He always looks so tired. I know he just wants to get back to California so he can have his life back again.

My smile falls.

Does that life involve me?

How can he have Hannah and I both?

The answer is...he can't.

I won't be able to see that woman without wanting to claw her eyeb.a.l.l.s out.

"I wasn't expecting you to show up," I tell him after a few moments.

His fingers find my overgrown bangs and he tucks them behind my ear. "I could've waited a couple more days to see you, but I didn't want to. I also didn't think you travelling with a wanted felon was a good idea. The last thing you need is to get dragged to prison because you were in the wrong place at the right time."

My eyes find his-his gaze boring a hole through me. When did Ren become so intense? I reflect back on all the things I've dealt with in the past month. When did I become so intense? We're both strung so tight, we're sure to snap at any moment.

"Thank you for coming," I murmur. "I've been so lost and lonely. With Vee and Oscar gone too, I've been drifting. If it weren't for you, I'd have already lost my mind."

His brows furl together. He grits his teeth together as if he's holding in a mouthful of words. I want to pry his lips apart and pull them from him.

"What?" I ask.

He swallows. "I'm so f.u.c.king sorry, Brie."

Tears sting my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. "My life is a mess."

"I'm here now. I'll help you clean it all up. Your mess is mine." He leans forward and kisses the corner of my mouth. It stirs old feelings in my belly. "Go to sleep, Juliet. You've got a big day tomorrow."

I drift off, losing myself to nostalgic memories of when life was easy and fun. Before the cartel, before my dad came back, before Heath tried to ruin my life. Back when I was just a girl looking out a window, wishing for a boy to climb the tower and save me.

"Tigress..."

I groan in protest. I'm too sleepy to get up.

"Tigress..."

"Mmmm," I grumble.

"Tigress..."

My dreams tease me and bleed into reality. I hate that I can have him there and not in real life. Sometimes, when I wake up, his scent lingers. I can almost still hear his whispers against the sh.e.l.l of my ear. I'm oftentimes still wet from remembering the way he would touch me.

And now, in the pitch black of my bedroom, I'm once again taunted by his memory. He seems so real. I dance my fingertips along his bare chest. Solid muscle. Smooth contours and lines. So perfect.

My b.r.e.a.s.t.s ache to have him gripping them to the point of pain. I'd do anything to have his teeth on my nipples one last time. Greedy not to lose him in this moment, I regain full clarity and I straddle him. His c.o.c.k is erect and at full attention.

G.o.d he feels so real.

"I missed you so much," I murmur in the dark, my fingernails raking along his chest.

His body tenses as if I've just woken him. Strong hands slide up my bare thighs and grip my hips just under my shirt. I want to glue them to me so he'll never let me go. Between the thin fabric of his boxers and my barely-there panties, I'm sure he can feel how wet I am as I rub against his throbbing c.o.c.k. It's been so long.

"Brie..." His voice is all wrong but it's real. So f.u.c.king real.

"Shhh," I tell him, needing the fantasy to remain. Reality is a G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.i.t.c.h.

He lets out a low growl and his thumbs dig into my flesh. I rock against him almost painfully. My body needs this release. I grab on to his muscular shoulders so I can stabilize myself. Grinding against him feels so good. So perfect.

Tendrils of pleasure begin lazily making their way through my veins as if they've suddenly awoken from a long slumber. Much like the bliss of the heroin I once loved, I quiver with antic.i.p.ation as it snakes its way through me, leaving a delicious sting in its wake. My p.u.s.s.y throbs with need. It won't be long before I come.

And like so many nights before, I'll reawaken with a pillow between my legs. My fantasy nothing more than a sad dream. But it never stops me from giving in to these dreams. I greedily steal them each time.

His hands grip the bottom of my T-shirt and he starts to drag it up my body. Reality is hiding just beyond the door of my mind. Reminding me this isn't real. That he's not real. That my fantasy is an imposter.

I turn my back on that door.

Lifting my arms, I let him tug the shirt from me. His palms slide to my swollen b.r.e.a.s.t.s and he squeezes them. Admires them. Gets used to the new size of them. He sits up on the bed until our stomachs press together. His hot mouth finds my nipple. So tentative at first but then he suckles on it. Bites it. Draws pleasure from such a small area just with his mouth. My panties are drenched.

This isn't enough.

I need more.

So much more from him.

Raking my fingers through his hair, I blatantly ignore the fact that his hair is different. I don't get caught up in reality. This fantasy is mine. I'll live in it forever.

He grips my a.s.s to the point I know I'll be bruised. His need to consume me-to tear me apart-has me flying higher and higher toward ecstasy.

"I need you," I whisper so quietly I don't think he hears.

But then his hot breath is between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, sending chills down my spine. "I'm not him."

I'm not him.

A tear streaks down my cheek and I shake my head. "Shhh."

When I grind into him hard, he lets out a sound of pure bliss. But then his hands are in my hair almost painfully. He jerks my head back so that my b.r.e.a.s.t.s jut right into his face. His teeth drag along my flesh before he sinks them into my skin. I cry out in pain-but it's pain mixed with pleasure, and I need it. "I'm not him, baby."

I slap my hand over his mouth so he'll shut up. This seems to spark a reaction from him because he flips us around and presses me into the bed. His strong hands grab my wrists as he jerks them above my head. My legs are still spread apart. He never loses our stride and continues rubbing against me in a way that has me so close to climaxing.

I just need to hold on to the fantasy a moment longer.

Then I can hate myself all I want.

Then I can force myself to face the truth.

Then I can apologize.

"I'm not him," he growls in a no-nonsense way. He grips my chin almost brutally before crashing his lips to mine. This kiss tastes familiar, but the harsh way he delivers it isn't familiar. Despite not recognizing it, I crave it.

"I need you inside me," I plead, hot tears rolling from my eyes. I'm fully aware of my betrayal but I won't let it win. Not now.

"Jesus f.u.c.king Christ!" he hisses.

At one time, he'd have been the gentleman. Made me come to terms with reality. Held me through what I'd almost done.