This is Love, Baby(31)

A deep growl rumbles in my chest and I seize his throat with my hand. “Fuck off and tell me what you really said. Do you think you have enough air to last through her shower? Little Baylee isn’t going to come rescue you, dumbass.”

He refuses to speak, so I squeeze hard enough to cause him to struggle in the chair. I enjoy the way his face turns purple. So fucking purple. Death will never be a good enough punishment for the bastard who stole my girlfriend. But I’ll sure enjoy seeing him die, that’s for damn sure.

“W-What…d-d-did…”

I release his throat and he gulps in air.

“What did you do to Tony?” he rasps out.

My eyebrows fly to my hairline but I quickly mask away my look of shock. “I didn’t do anything to him.” Dragging my gaze from his penetrating glare, I stare at the doorway and listen for signs of Baylee. The shower is still running.

“You’re lying and she’ll find out, you little shit,” he seethes and struggles with his bindings as if he’d actually be able to tear through them to get to me.

“No, Gabe,” I tell him calmly and lean forward until my face is inches from his scowling one. “She won’t find out. I’m going to make sure of it. Because before we leave this shithole, I’m going to cut your throat.”

He scoffs. “Oh, yeah? And then what? You two gonna ride off into the sunset together? You’re fucking delusional, kid. Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

Rage surges through me, painting my insides red with hate. I ball my hands into fists. One more stupid word out of his mouth and I’ll break my promise to Baylee about not hurting him. “She loves me.”

My entire body quakes with barely contained fury. He keeps pushing and fucking pushing. I don’t know how much longer I can take his shit before I snap.

“No, she likes you. You were a teenage crush. Nothing more than a pussy-ass boy. You’re friend-zoned now. She just doesn’t know how to break it to you and your fragile little wussy feel—”

Hate overwhelms me and my restraint is no longer something I have control over. Before I can think better of it, I backhand him across the side of the head, hard enough to reopen a cut on his eyebrow which immediately starts bleeding. He spits out a wad of blood and glares at me.

“Mark my words, boy.”

With a huff, I storm out of the kitchen ignoring his psychotic laughter that echoes behind me. It takes everything in me not to beat him to a bloody pulp.

Stalking back into the bedroom, I dig around the duffle bag until I find one of Baylee’s favorite nightgowns. It’s my favorite too—an old, oversized pink thing with Tweety Bird on the front. She loves it because it was handed down to her from her mother. I love it because it’s short and shows off her pretty long legs. Also, I locate her a sexy black thong and toss it onto the bed as well.

The shower shuts off and I pace around the room waiting for her. Between her distant behavior toward me and Gabe’s taunting and threats, my nerves are shot. I need to fix this.

“I laid out your clothes,” I tell her with a proud grin.

She’s wrapped up in a white towel that stretches over her gorgeous tits and hangs just low enough to cover her pussy. I crave to finally lose my virginity to her. Soon. Her eyes fall to the bed and tears well in her eyes.

“I love that nightgown,” she murmurs, emotion making her voice hoarse. “It used to be Mom’s.” Her long legs glide over to the bed and she fingers the thin, worn fabric as the memories assault her. When her shoulders quiver with silent tears, I stride over to her and hug her from behind.

“That’s why I brought it, babe. I want you to be happy. To remember Lynn. I grabbed a few pictures for you too.”

Her sobs are quiet, but I’m overcome with joy when she lets me hold her. My arms are locked around her stomach and I keep her back pressed to my front. As she cries, I press kisses to her bare shoulder. I want to tear the towel from her body and make love to her. To pump into her and kiss away her sorrow.

Soon.

After some time, she sniffles away the last of her tears. “A thong. Really Brandon?”

I chuckle and tickle her sides, making her squirm away from me. I shrug. “I just grabbed the stuff I like seeing you in. Was I supposed to grab the granny panties that were shoved to the back of your drawer?” I question and smirk at her.

She rolls her eyes and throws the black scrap at me. “I’m not wearing those.”

I feel myself grow hard as I shove her panties into my pocket. “You won’t see me complaining,” I tease and drag my eyes down her body, eying her suggestively.

“Go away and let me get dressed,” she huffs but the playful tone is still in her voice.