Page 109 of The Boy I Loved
“That’s all, Doll. Thank you.”
She gave him a slight nod of her head before turning on her heels and stalking away. This was a daily occurrence for the two of them. She’d suck him off and then would leave as if nothing had happened. I was sure they were fucking, too. Though if they were, Kent did it in private.
A stitch formed between Azrael’s brows as he watched theinteraction, his mind working overtime to put the pieces together. Kent wasn’t exactly subtle.
Movement to my right caught my attention, my gaze sliding to Tristan, who was making his way the back door.
The urge to follow him was strong, mostly because I wanted to get under his skin as he’d done with me. But it was pointless. Instead, I narrowed my eyes, watching as he slipped through the door.
Tristan had been a part of Clay’s crew before me. Hell, he grew up working for the bastard. I didn’t know all of the details, just that his father was close with my uncle, and they worked closely together. Tristan’s dad was currently stationed at one of the whore houses, running that while Clay took care of the compound.
Bringing my glass to my lips, I took a steady drink of the bourbon, breathing through the fire it lit in my chest. And then I took another drink, needing the burn a little more than I’d initially thought.
The days were beginning to bleed together, even for me. It was always the same bullshit—guard duty, basement duty, training, day off, repeat. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my mother must be thinking. I never even told her I was leaving, nor did I speak to her. She was another person I’d been avoiding. Checking my phone felt like a chore at this point and I rarely ever did anymore.
Once my whiskey had been drained, I stood and deposited the glass over in the rack near the bar before taking the elevator up to my floor. Slipping into my bedroom, I gathered a change of clothes and made a beeline for my ensuite. Bright light bled onto the tile floor as soon as I flicked the switch. Placing my clothes on the bathroom counter, I turned toward the bath and twisted the knobs until water poured out.
I sloppily stripped out of my clothing as the water warmed and then stepped into the tub, lowering myself into it. Steam billowed out into the air, attacking my airway.
My head thumped against the back of the tub and I allowed my eyes to flutter closed. Memories attacked the forefront of my mind, reminding me how simple things used to be.
My father had always been an active parent. He worked long hours but did what he could when he was home. He was obsessed with hunting, and it was through him that I initially learned how to shoot a gun in the first place. When Clay brought me to the compound, he was pleased to know that I already had experience in that department.
“Hunting deer is similar to women,”he said when I was sixteen years old.“Except women are louder and easier to catch. They’re also more fun.”
I still remembered the cocky smirk he gave me as if we were in on some kind of inside joke. Reflecting on it now, I still didn’t fully understand it. Women were never meant to be prey. Sometimes, on the days I was less myself, it was easy to get lost in the exhilaration of it all. It would be a bold face lie if I claimed having Stacy at my mercy didn’t appeal to me. It did, more than I’d like to admit. She wasn’t the first either. Hell, there were too many instances to count.
Before I knew it, the water surrounding me had cooled to a lukewarm temperature. Pushing myself to stand, I pulled the plug to let the water drain and then turned on the shower. Ice cold water shot from the showerhead above, pelting my skin with ferocity. Once it warmed, I lathered shampoo through my hair and rinsed. I repeated the process with conditioner before moving onto my body.
Once I was clean, I grabbed the towel, dried off, and got dressed.
My skin was tight with anxiety as I navigated the way to my bed, tugging the comforter back and slipping beneath it. I might have won the contest, but at what cost? Hazel was mad at me, and the thought of her hating me as much as she hatedthemdidn’t sit right.
But I did what I had to do. She’d understand. Right?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
HAZEL
Dominic warnedme about missing training, but how could I force myself to go after what happened? The thought of walking into that room again so soon after Stacy had been brutalized made me feel sick to my stomach. She might not have been a good friend to me, or really even a friend in general, but she didn’t deserve that.
Why did they get to choose who lived or died? What gave them the fucking right?
There was a persistent knot in my throat, one that made it difficult to swallow through. My nerves were fried, shooting waves and waves of anxiety through my system.
If they wanted to punish me for missing training, it didn’t matter. We were all doomed anyway. Stacy’s death was proof enough of that. As was Emerson’s, and Nia’s. The three of them hadn’t done a damn thing wrong and still, they were killed.
The door to my room creaked open, slicing through my warring thoughts. My body was turned away from the intruder, so I couldn’t see who chose to interrupt me, but I doubted it was anyone good. I’d gone to training last night, and that was a shit show, but I’d missed the session that morning.
When the door closed again, my pulse warmed, pumping blood through my body at a faster pace.
It wasn’t until I felt the bed dip behind me that I rolled onto my back, my surprised gaze finding Mason’s.
“Hey.” He grinned in that charming way he usually did. “I told you we had a date today.”
My stomach dropped instantly at the implication. I moved to sit up, but he was on me immediately, pushing his hands to pin my shoulders down into the mattress.
“Now, Now.” He breathed, throwing one leg over my body to straddle me. “If you don’t get this right, we’ll have to do it again. You don’t want that, do you?” He arched an eyebrow, his blue eyes glittering with mirth.
