This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,13

terrifying men hurting me and touching me and fucking me is too much to bear. Gabe’s wrong. I won’t survive this. I don’t belong here. I belong in my own bed worrying over simpler matters like school or my mother’s health. Not in the clutches of monsters wondering if I’ll live or die.

“I want to go home.” My words are nothing but a whisper.

His lips draw up into a wolfish grin and his eyes darken. “You’re never going back there, baby. Suck it up and accept your fate.”

I will never accept this.

Ever.

“Do I need to tie you up this time?”

The deep voice drags me from my mental vacation. I’d slipped into some hopeless pit of despair—something reminiscent of the hole in his kitchen which now seems oddly safer than this bed.

I can’t do this.

I’d rather die.

“Please.”

“Please what? Tie you up? Give you more orgasms?”

I shudder at his words. “Let me go.”

His harsh laugh startles me. “You’re not going anywhere. You will stay with me for two weeks. Then we’re going to San Diego where I’ll sell you to the highest bidder. The better you behave—the more you let me prepare you—the higher the odds are that you’ll get sold to someone wealthy. Perhaps someone who will care for you. You’ll be… kept. Believe me when I say you don’t want to get sold to some of those bottom feeders. They buy a lot which means, their slaves don’t last long.”

I stare blankly at him. Slaves. This is my life now.

“They die, sweetheart. Those bastards hurt and eventually kill them. I’d be fucking furious if they hurt what’s mine.” His tone is fierce and protective which confuses me.

“Why can’t you keep me then?” My question is honest. If I have to be stuck in this world, I’d rather be here with him than some stranger, who could be far more evil than Gabe.

He raises his gaze to meet mine and shrugs. “I need the money,” he says in a gruff, dismissive tone. “Ready for more?”

My mind is numb. This isn’t reality. This is a nightmare. “Don’t hurt me, Gabe.”

He flashes me a crooked grin. “Baby, I’m going to hurt you, but you’ll like it.”

A shiver runs down my spine but I meet his stare with defiance. “Fine. Let’s do this. Train me to be a fuck doll.”

The scowl on his face is immediate and I realize my words struck a nerve. Good. A realization begins to course through me. He must not want to sell me. He’s every bit the greedy bastard he confessed to being, and if he could, he’d keep me. I need to make sure that happens. Maybe if I meant something to him—something more than money—he would change his mind. He would lower his guard for me, and I could attempt escape.

He tugs the towel away from me and proceeds to undress. My eyes skim over his ridged frame and I freeze at seeing his erection. It’s huge. His two fingers felt like an invasion—that thing will feel like it’s impaling me.

“Did you ever suck Brandon’s puny pecker?” he questions in a mocking tone.

I bristle and shake my head. “I relieved him with my hand. And he… he touched me some. We haven’t really done much.”

“And why do you think that is?”

I don’t understand the meaning behind his question. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m seventeen,” I sneer.

He laughs—the asshole laughs at me. “Cut the crap, sweetheart. I’ve been to every single one of your birthday parties since I moved in next door. You’ll be eighteen in a couple of months. In the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t matter. I want to know why you haven’t let pussy boy fuck you yet.”

“Because he hasn’t tried.” My honest words feel like a betrayal to both myself and my sweet boyfriend.

He crawls into the bed beside me and his fingers draw lazy circles on my stomach. “But you wanted him to?”

I let out a ragged, teary sigh. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” I demand.

He smiles and the way his eyebrows quirk up, it reminds me of the look he gave me when he was between my legs. It causes my pelvis to ache and I hate myself for it.

“I mean, Baylee, why did you want him to? Was it ‘love?’”

“Yes.” I swallow but avoid his gaze by staring out the window where the midday sun pours in. “And because I wanted to know what it felt like.”

His hand slides up over my breast, along my throat, to where