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

To always think about his crimes and pay for them over his lifetime.

“W-W-What did you do?” I stammer out and meet the enraged glare of Brandon. Pushing past him, I make my way over to the hole that Gabe was pushed into. I fall to my knees and peer inside. My stomach clenches into a fist as I clutch onto the sides of the floor to keep from hurtling down into the abyss with him. Gabe’s lying on his side facing the darkness of the cellar. A pool of blood forms around the middle of his body and he’s unmoving. The chair is smashed into a several pieces around him. His neck seems to be turned in an awkward way and I wonder if he broke it upon impact. Tears are streaming down my face and I angrily swipe them away with the back of my hand. Finding the cellar door, I pull it closed and then latch it shut. I can’t look at his broken body any longer.

With a scream of frustration, I scramble to my feet and charge for Brandon. “Why? Why did you do that?” I demand, fresh, hot tears chasing the ones before them, race their way to my jaw and drip onto my breasts. “You killed him!”

His eyes hungrily lick up and down my naked form before they’re back on my teary ones. They soften at the sight and he slowly approaches. “The nightmares wouldn’t stop until he was dead, Baylee. I’m healing you. I’m fixing you, babe.”

Fury explodes within me and I attack. My fists become tiny weapons of destruction as I try to beat some sense into him. When my hands don’t seem to be doing the job, I set to shoving him. He lets me push him against the counter. I slap at his face and am about to claw his stupid eyeballs out when he snatches both wrists and yanks me to him. His face is bright red, anger twisting up his handsome features into something ugly and hateful. I want to rip the look right from his face.

I shake my head at him and jerk my wrists from his grasp. “Don’t touch me. You can sleep on the couch tonight for all I care,” I hiss at him. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

The unmasked rage begins to melt from his features. His face falls into a frown—clearly heartbroken—as I storm from the room. Once inside the bedroom, I lock the door and then crawl into the bed.

This time, when I dream, Brandon takes the place of the monster. And this new monster is equally terrifying.




The birds chirping outside the window wake me up at dawn. My entire body aches from crying and exertion. With Gabe gone, I’m ready to leave this hell hole once and for all. Maybe Brandon did me a favor. Although I will never let him know that. But by him getting rid of our villain, maybe now I can move on. Problem is, I don’t want to move on. I want to go to the police. Tell them about the cabin and all about Gabe. Expose the WCT sex ring but leave War’s name out of it. And most importantly, I want to find Land. If I can’t count on Brandon, I know I can count on Land to help me find my dad. He’ll want me in his life once he learns I’m carrying a part of his son.

And life will get better. I can control that much.

I couldn’t control what Gabe took from me.

I couldn’t control my mother’s death.

I couldn’t control War’s fate.

I couldn’t even control gaining the answers I wanted and the closure I needed from this whole mess.

But I am going to take care of myself from here on out. And I will control that.

A soft knock on the door makes me jump. I quickly throw on my clothes from yesterday before opening it.

Brandon’s face is contorted into one of guilt and regret. He rests his forearms on the door frame and leans into the room, eyes on mine.

“Baylee,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

I gather up Mom’s sweater, my nightgown, and the picture frame. Ignoring him, I stuff them all into my small purse, making it bulge. “Take me to the police station. Now.”

He leaves his position in the doorway and stalks over to me. I refuse to show weakness anymore and I square my shoulders, looking him in the eye. When his hand reaches for me, I swat it away.

“We can’t do that,” he says with a sigh of frustration. “They’ll take you to jail.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll take my chances.”

He growls and runs his fingers through his hair. “Listen, babe. Let’s talk this through first.”

“No. There’s nothing to say. You killed a man. I told you not to hurt him. I told you we needed answers out of him. But you did whatever the hell you wanted to anyway. I need some space from you.”

I start past him but he grabs my wrist. His almost glowing green orbs find mine and his brows furrow. “That is exactly why we can’t go to the police.”

With a huff, I jerk my arm from his grip. “I thought you were worried about me being taken to jail. It’s your own ass you’re looking to save? Well tough shit. Besides, it was self-defense, Brandon. Wasn’t it?”

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