Page 66 of The Boy I Loved
“Why the fuck are you crying?” he snarled. “You think it can’t get worse than this?”
Lauren shook her head profusely. “I-it can. I’m s-sorry Vincent. I-I can’t help it.” She sniffled through her jumbled words, hiccups following shortly after.
He reached forward, burying his fingers through Lauren’s hair and jerking, causing her neck to bend at an odd angle. With his other hand, he brought the severed limb toward her face, malice sparkling within his eyes.
“Suck,” he commanded, pushing the fingers against her mouth.
Lauren recoiled noticeably. “P-please,” she choked out.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
Lauren trembled in response but slowly pried her lips apart. He pushed the fingers inside, and she wrapped her lips around them as instructed. The hand was pale, having lost all its color from lack of blood. It was a grayish blue at this point, and the mere sight of it had my own stomach twisting. He continued to thrust the fingers in and out of her mouth, even ramming them down her throat to make her gag before he tossed the severed limb on the mattress and stepped away.
“No more crying. Let that be your warning.” He turned his back and made his way toward us, flopping down on the sofa again.
Training went smoother than expected. Tristan didn’t target Hazel today, probably because he wanted to wait until her results came back from the lab. He couldn’t risk any of his main bitches getting infected. Diseases spread like wildfire in a place like this. I was convinced that it was because he knew Clay would have his head over it and Tristan wanted to stay on his good side.
After the session ended, I went back to my room and crawled into bed. It was my break time, but I just needed some time to get my thoughts in order before finishing out the rest of the day.
The ceiling was dull and boring, but I found myself drawn to it as I lay on my back, gazing upwards. My hands were folded over my chest, a mixture of emotions and thoughts running through me. This was the kind of thing I was used to: torturing women, hurting them, belittling them, taking whatever I wanted from them. And yet, it all felt different now. There was a time I wouldn’t even bat an eye. I’d do what was expected of me because that was just how things were. But Hazel was here now. I didn’t want her to see me like that. I’d tried my hardest to keep her away from it all and it still didn’t matter. She was here, and she would see me for who I really was—if she didn’t already.
I was a fool for thinking we could be together, for thinking I could fuck her without consequence. It was just one time and look where that got me? This was all my goddamn fault.
A soft breath tumbled from my lips.
My stomach was a series of knots and regret, consuming me so thoroughly it was all I could feel. Hazel’s green eyes flashed within my mind, her full lips stretching to reveal the youthful smile she honed when she was only twelve years old. She’d been so full of life back then. She still was, but I’d already noticed some of that light fade from her beautiful irises. It fuckingkilledme.
Clay said that bringing her here was my sacrifice—thateveryone had a price to pay. He gave up Elizabeth, so I had to give up Hazel. I didn’t know what Vincent had to sacrifice. Maybe his entire family, since he was here, and they were somewhere else. He didn’t seem too beaten up over it. Then again, you wouldn’t know the difference. Mason had nothing to lose. His mom was a cunt from what I’d heard and there was no love lost between the two of them. Nicholas was even more of a mystery. He’d lost Imogen, but I wasn’t sure if that was the price he had to pay, or if there was something else.
It didn’t matter.Noneof it mattered. This was just another attempt to control us—to keep us in line.
I wasn’t sure how long I laid there for, lost to my thoughts. The guilt was crippling. All I could think about was Hazel. She wouldn’t last in this place. She wasn’t strong enough. That wasn’t even an insult. She was too good-natured, too compassionate, and too full of life. If she did manage to survive here, all of that would be stripped away until the Hazel I knew no longer existed. She was here because of me, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. I’d allowed my jealousy to get the better of me and it would ruin us both.
“You’reon basement duty with me,” Tristan told me, slapping me on my shoulder.
The last thing I wanted to do was work with him and watch him torture the girls. Clay was short-staffed tonight, so I was pulling a double, but that was fine. So far, I’d managed to avoid the basement, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe I could finally get the chance to talk to her when Tristan was distracted screwing one of the girls, or when he went out to smoke.
That thought didn’t bring me any relief. She’d probably tell me to go to Hell. It would be well-deserved, but I had to at least try.
I’d just come back from break a little while ago and was seated in the lounge. Most of the girls on this level were off doing jobs, but a few were in their rooms while others served the men surrounding me. It was monotonous. I didn’t understand how the guys never tired of it. Then again, a lot of them enjoyed inflicting pain. I did, too. But how could I do that with Hazel here now? Word traveled like wildfire, and she’d know who did what eventually.
My fingers curled into my palms, my knuckles cracking as a result. I’d kept my monster at bay for a while, but it was crippling. How long before I snapped? How long before I showed Hazel I was just like Mason, just like Tristan, maybe even just like Vincent. Maybe she needed to know. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore.
I blew out a breath, tipping my head back to stare at the ceiling above.
It was about time I saw Hazel.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HAZEL
Exhaustion settled into my limbs,the chair pressing against me uncomfortably. I was sick of these stupid training sessions. They were just another way to torture us. Stacy sat beside me, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked awful. The welts across her chest were red and inflamed, leading me to believe they might get infected if they weren’t already.
Lauren had been rushed to the infirmary after our last session due to a bad panic attack and she still hadn’t returned. My mind whirled, bile rising to the back of my throat. I knew these places were awful, but I hadn’t expected severed limbs to be used on any of us. Vincent did it so casually, like it was just a normal afternoon. How could someone be so fucking demented?
My thoughts broke off when Cody and one other guy strode to the front of the room, lowering themselves on the sofa they all seemed to favor. A third man joined them next, followed by?—
My lips parted and my eyes widened, fear punching through my chest. No. There was no fucking way. He’d been so sweet, so nervous, so kind. His lips tilted into a smirk, one that was foreign on his face—far from any of the looks I’d seen him sport yet.
