Page 58 of The Boy I Loved
When we made it outside, I lowered myself onto the bench, spreading my legs out in front of me. Tristan fished out his pack of Marlboro Reds and offered me one before taking one for himself. I had my own cigarettes but didn’t bother telling him that. Instead, Isnatched the lighter from my own pocket and lit it, letting the thick plume of smoke fill my lungs.
“I heard about what you did to Stacy,” I commented, blowing the smoke out around me through the statement.
I never cared for Stacy much, but what Tristan did to her … it was brutal. Surely, he knew he’d crossed the line. From what I’d heard, her only crime was being too loose for him. Mason had fucked her, and he hadn’t been too put-off about it.
Tristan huffed a small laugh, amusement crinkling the corners of his light blue eyes. “That was too much, wasn’t it?”
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “It was no worse than what a lot of the men in here do to the women,” I admitted.
“Women,” he repeated. “That’s such ahumaneway to refer to them.” He took a slow pull of his cigarette, flicking the ashes on the ground before meeting my gaze again. “I prefer sluts or whores. They aren’t people here, Dom. You need to remember that.”
“That’s where we disagree, I suppose.”
The thought of anyone referring to Hazel in such a derogatory way had heat spreading through my veins like a current of wildfire. I might not have been innocent. Viewing them as objects helped me cope with some of the vile things I was forced to do, and sometimes, I did it just because. Maybe I was no better than the assholes around me.
“I knew you weren’t built for this place a long time ago,” he explained, the words rolling off his tongue with a sharpness that told me he meant it as an insult. “You were always tooemotional—too compassionate. Clay said you’d learn eventually, and maybe you have somewhat, but underneath it all…” he trailed off, gesturing toward me with a wave of his hand. “You’re still that same, scared little boy, aren’t you?”
The fact he thought those words affected me was almost laughable. I took Stacy because I wantedto. I wasn’t forced to do that. I’d done equally bad things, but there were some lines I hadn’tcrossed—some lines I’d probablynevercross. I’d do anything if it kept Hazel and Alice safe. That was what he failed to understand. Compassion wasn’t a weakness. It was a strength many people didn’t possess. He could believe whatever bullshit story he wanted to. I had no interest in proving him wrong. Guys like Tristan, guys like Mason and Vincent, maybe even Nicholas … they hurt people because they wanted to, because it offered them power. They enjoyed the feel of taking a weak girl against their will, and I’d admit, sometimes I did, too. I was a monster just like the lot of them, but if I had another option, if I’d been granted a way out, I’d take it. They wouldn’t. That was the fundamental difference between us.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “This life isn’t for everyone.”
His lips twisted into a cocky smirk, almost as if he’d won some grand prize by getting me to admit that. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette again, causing a series of gray ashes to tumble from the cherry.
“I’ll always admit the truth,” I confessed. “Would you?”
He seemed momentarily taken aback by my question, his dark eyebrows tugging together in confusion. “There’s nothing for me to admit,” he said at last. “I’m an open book.”
Maybe. But I had a strong feeling that wasn’t entirely true. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, especially in this line of work. What secrets was Tristan hoarding? Were there things that kept him up at night? Or was he completely lost to his blackened soul? I had to admit I was intrigued.
After we were done smoking, I went back inside to an empty cafeteria. My shoulders slumped with a mixture of relief and sadness. On one hand, I was glad Hazel wasn’t in here anymore. I couldn’t stomach anymore of those looks she’d tossed my way. On the other hand, I wanted to see her—to know she was untouched and wasn’t being harmed.
Tristan started for the door, the one leading to the elevators.
“Where are you going?” I queried.
He barely spared me a glance over his shoulder. “To check in with Clay. He told me to stop by after dinner.”
It always made me feel some type of way when Clay and Tristan got together, like they were scheming under everyone else’s noses. I knew it was just my paranoia talking. Tristan was no more special to Clay than Mason, Vince, and Nicholas were. They all worked seamlessly together, making me the odd man out—not that I minded. I’d rather be alone than turn into the monsters they had.
It’s too late for that.
Indeed, it was. I’d become a monster a long time ago. I became a monster when I sank into Anya two years ago, when I busted inside of her to thoughts of Hazel, my innocent fucking friend. She was too pure for this, too pure forme, but I’d been selfish.
I couldn’t undo it now. I’d tried my hardest to prevent it, and maybe if I hadn’t been so goddamn weak, she would be at home right now, or maybe even school. She’d be moping around over the way I treated her, but she’d be better off. She would have Tory and both of her parents. She could have found a much more deserving guy to spend her time with.
I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know if I evencould. There was no way in Hell I could just stand by and watch her be raped, debased, sold, or killed. But interfering would only make things worse. I was a one-man team when Clay had hundreds.
My legs were heavy as I shoved through the same doors Tristan had pushed through moments earlier. Instead of heading for the elevator, I made my way to the lounge. This was where the more experienced girls spent their time—the moretrustworthyones. They got decent beds and better meals. They were even allowed to drink and earn cash of their own.
Kent was seated in one of the chairs, a beer in his hand while one of the girls sucked his cock down her throat, just how he liked it. He had one hand twisted through her black hair, urging her downuntil she was swallowing him whole, breathing through her nose like the expert she was, and barely gagging in response.
I couldn’t even remember her name. There were so many girls coming in and out that getting to know anything about them was futile at this point.
I strode over to the bar and fixed myself a glass of whiskey before heading toward the chair adjacent Kent. He was a middle-aged man and didn’t piss me off too much, so his company wasn’t as much of a nuisance as some of the others. The leather creaked beneath my weight, my gaze dropping briefly to the girl’s round, bare ass as she pleasured him.
Before I could even bring the glass to my lips, a shadow fell upon me, causing me to move my gaze upwards. A familiar face, but a name long forgotten.
“Hi.” She smiled, revealing a set of pretty, white teeth.
