This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,92

the room, interrupting my desire to murder him. “You’re going to suck on the goddamned gun or I’ll fuck your ass with it instead. I know how you like your ass played with, baby.”

She opens her mouth, fully accepting the gun, and once again shoots me an apologetic look. What the fuck does she have to apologize for? This bastard is shaming her by using her body for his own twisted enjoyment.

“Good girl. Keep sucking. But one false move, Baylee and I’ll pull the trigger.”

When he shoves the barrel deeper into her mouth, causing snot to drip down her lip and over her chin, I gag. I fucking gag like a pussy. The demons are revolting in my head, threatening to take over, and I’m trying desperately to keep them under control. He starts to slide the barrel in and out of her mouth to which she squirms.

Don’t fucking squirm, Bay. Don’t do it.

“Shhhh,” Gabe says with a grunt and nips at her shoulder. “You’re doing so well. I missed you, baby.”

And I watch, unable to protect her, as he fucks her mouth with that gun. Each time he withdraws the gun, it glistens with her saliva mixed with snot and I fight to keep from gagging. Memories of my mother—of Constance—assault me and the room spins around me. Her sobs echo around me only making me feel like less of a man for not being able to help her. I wish I could fucking help her.

I could charge at him.

But he seems the type to pull the trigger because he’s a psycho bastard.

He chuckles, the sound dark and revolting to my ears. “Listen to her breathing picking up,” he tells me with a smirk. “I know her better than you. She’s enjoying every second of this. My girl is depraved.”

I glare at him. “Fuck you.”

He laughs but when she starts to wiggle, he snarls against her ear. “Don’t fucking try it, baby.” She lets out a sob—almost rage-filled as he nibbles at her ear. Her tears don’t stop but she sags in his arms. My Baylee is so weak.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” he says and drops a kiss to her temple. “And for the next act of our show,” he says to me, ignoring her cries. “You get to watch my girl deep throat.”

My skin grows cold and I start to grow dizzy.

Focus, War.

Don’t let this asshole win.

When he’s preoccupied, make your move. Charge for him.

“Go to hell,” I snap at him before speaking to her. “Bay, hang in there. I love you.”

Gabe grabs a handful of her hair and forces her to her knees in front of him. “Your lover boy wants you to hang in there. Can you hang, baby?” he taunts. “Suck on this gun like it’s your last goddamned meal. Who knows, maybe it is. Or maybe you’d rather suck on my cock instead. Do you want your boyfriend to watch?”

I snarl and attempt to stay still. She shakes her head in vehemence and heeds his instruction. The moment she starts bobbing her head on the gun, my world tilts again.

Sucking and slurping.

Dark chuckles and whimpers.

My stomach churns at the thought of him accidentally pulling the trigger. Parts of her brain blowing all over my home, covering every white inch of it. I gag again.

Stop fucking thinking about it!

“How’s your deep throat these days anyway, baby?”

He shoves his gun as far as it will go and this time, she’s the one that gags. Loud, sloppy, wet. A croak echoes off the entryway walls before she sprays vomit all over it and the front of his jeans. Falling to my knees, I claw at my throat. Don’t throw up, too. Don’t fucking throw up. This shit will be everywhere.

The walls.

The floors.

Her clothes and mine.

FUCKING FOCUS!

He laughs and releases her. “Without further ado, the grand finale…”

I tear my gaze to his. “You’re fucking sick.”

His gun raises and he points it at me. “And you’re fucking dead.”

Pop!

Pain explodes in my chest.

Nooooo!

I clutch my chest and hiss when blood blooms out over my fingers. Just like Mom. Just like the day she died. So much blood. It won’t stop.

My eyes blink.

One.

Four.

Or was it three.

Black and black and black.

“WAR!!!”

That voice. Her voice. It’s my heavenly oasis although it sounds distant. I don’t want to close my eyes but they’re already shut and I’m spiraling into the darkness.

“War is over.” The sick twisted voice knifes its way into my darkness.

War is over.

Gone, gone, gone.

Goodbye, my Baylee. You kept me happy from the