Page 49 of The Boy I Loved
A chill crept down my spine, my hands pushing against the thin bed, using it as momentum to push myself into a sitting position. I drew my legs to my chest, glancing around the small space. The sound of slapping sounded a few cells away, echoing through the murky area. As if my senses had been dulled before, everything came rushing to me in a tidal wave. Vomit, sex, urine, feces,death. It was absolutely horrid.
The last thing I remembered…
My stomach flipped with nausea. Someone had been in my house; someone had taken me from there. Whimpers reached my ears again, followed by the same, incessant slapping that refused to relent.
I wanted to call out, to demand answers, but I was frozen—unable to force the words past my lips. Instead, I reached for the thin blanket resting at the edge of the small bed, and tugged it over my lap, resting my back against the cold, hard wall behind me.
I couldn’t remember being this petrified in my life. There had been times when my own imagination had scared me shitless, but it was nothing compared to the fear pummeling through me now.
Footsteps echoed down the cement, growing closer and closer with every step they took. Whoever it was, they were confident and sure of themselves; I could tell by the way they walked, even if I hadn’t seen them yet.
At last, a shadow descended upon the cemented floor a few paces before me, and my eyes bounced upward, locking on a pair of light blue ones. My lips parted in surprise, but as usual, nothing came out.
Mason.
He’d been the one to bring me here? But … why? Suddenly, everything Dom had said before came crashing down on me and making a hell of a lot more sense.
“Good morning,” he purred, his voice slipping through the bars of my cell, wrapping around me like a false blanket of comfort. “Hungry?”
I had so many questions. So many things I wanted to say and do, but I was far too weak for any of them. Hell, I couldn’t even ask him a simple, three-letter word. Maybe it had something to do with my dry mouth, or the drugs that had been pumped into my body.
His lips twitched in response when I didn’t offer him an answer. He reached for the keyring jingling from his belt loop and unclasped it before inserting the key into the lock and twisting. The metal door of the cell creaked open, the sound echoing through the building.
“Come on, H. You’ll need your strength for what we have planned for you.”
He’d called me that once before. It was one of the few nicknames Dom had reserved for me, and I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, not until now.
I swallowed thickly, attempting to dislodge the lump in my throat. “W-wh-where am I?” My voice shook with every word, the cold air forcing a shiver from my body.
“Hell,” he replied casually. “For you, not so much for me.” Heheld out his hand in an expectant gesture as if he expected me to hop out of bed and run into his arms. He had to have been fucking delusional.
I shrank further into myself, confusion shooting through every limb I possessed. If Mason was here, did that mean … No. I refused to believe that Dominic was involved in whatever this was. This place was awful. I didn’t know what the slapping sounds meant, but I knew that it wasn’t anything good.Nothingabout this place was good—not even remotely.
“Don’t make me ask again,” he snapped, authority threading throughout his tone.
I’d always known there was something off about Mason Byers, but never had I suspected anything like this. However, I knew he meant business, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to fight him on something so small.
Slowly, I forced myself to stand. My legs shook beneath my weight, dizziness clouding the edges of my vision. Repulsion bubbled up within me from the foul stench and I had to force my breathing to remain even despite the floor tilting beneath me every step of the way.
As soon as I reached Mason, he snapped his arm out, wrapping his fingers around my upper arm with aggression and tugging me from the confines of the dingy cell. Long gone was the charming boy from … was it yesterday? Fuck. How long had I been here? Instead, he was all hard edges and angles, his jaw feathering with aggression. Even his light blue eyes had somehow darkened. My stomach flipped with repulsion when my bare feet slid against something cold and wet, sending a current of vomit rushing to the back of my throat.
“Faster,” he barked, tightening his grip around my arm and tugging me down the walkway.
Cells adorned either side, the slapping growing louder andlouder. Against my better judgment, I turned my head and immediately wished that I hadn’t.
There was a man hovering over a girl in one of the cells, his jeans low around his knees as he continuously slammed into her again and again.
A shaky breath fled my lips, tears burning the back of my eyes. Trafficking. That was what this was. I used to watch the news a lot, documentaries, too. There were so many assault victims, so many people who had their innocence stolen from them. Suddenly, Mason’s grip around my arm felt like a brand. His fingertips dug into the flesh painfully, his steps fast and determined.
My head spun, everything happening too fast at once. I’d only just woken up—there was no time to process before I was being pushed through a door at the end of the room. Bright lighting blinded me, making me recoil with a wince.
“This could have been avoided,” Mason began, ushering me toward a long line of half-naked women. Tables were littered across the white, marble flooring. The scent of breakfast foods wafted through the air, but it only made me feel sicker. “If you hadn’t been such a whore, you’d be in your own bed right now.”
Whore?
When had I been a?—
My thoughts cut off, rerouting as if my brain had short-circuited. He was mad about what happened with Dominic. My knees trembled and any words I wanted to say died on my tongue when he pushed me to the back of the line.
