Page 81 of The Boy I Loved
“You don’t survive in this place by being a hero. You survive by keeping your mouth shut and your head turned. They’d throw you under the bus without a second thought. Why should you save someone who wouldn’t do the same for you?”
She had a valid point, but it was easier said than done. I didn’t understand how anyone could sit by, and watch others be harmed when they could do something about it or at leasttryto do something about it.
The sound of squelching cut through my thoughts, making me grimace. Tristan’s grunts followed soon after, his skin slapping against hers ruthlessly. The noise carried through the basement, echoing from cell to cell.
“Fucking.”Slap.“Worthless.”Slap.“Slut.”Slap.
Acid clawed at the back of my throat, my stomach churning with repulsion. He seemed to bother the girls the most, taking hisanger out on them whenever he could. This was the third night in a row. At this point, I was almost positive he was asking for basement duty just so he could torture the girls down here. We were considered less valuable since we didn’t contribute, and a lot of us never made it to the lounge anyway.
The woman’s sobs filled the space as he pounded into her. “P-please,” she choked out. “You’re hurting me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He growled. Something slapped against her flesh again, akin to a fist or the palm of his hand.
My body trembled violently, my hands tearing through my hair as I dropped my face toward my knees, trying my best to drown out the sounds. Why was he being so violent with her? He hadn’t been that way with me. Something really must have pissed him off this week. He’d done something similar the night before, and I hadn’t seen the girl since. She’d been ushered to medical. I severely underestimated how ruthless he was, and I had the audacity to mark him and fuck him back.
What was wrong with me?
At this point, if I died, it would be because of my own stupidity.
“God,” he grunted. “You’ve got such a sloppy cunt.”
I was beginning to wonder if he simply enjoyed insulting the girls. They couldn’t all belooseorsloppyas he described them. We were all built differently, and sex didn’t even play a factor in how loose or tight a woman was. Maybe he used it as an excuse to be cruel to them—not that he needed one. It could also be an attempt to humiliate them further.
Tristan seemed to fuck the girl forever. By the time he was done, he was hurling more insults at her and there was a lot of commotion happening, too, followed by the sound of a deep, rattling wheeze. My eyes blew wide, fear punching through my chest. W-was hestranglingher?
Against my better judgment, I threw my blanket from my body and rose on trembling legs.
“Hazel,” Stacy snapped in a soft voice, anger brimming her tone. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”
The gurgling continued. As did more squelching, which led me to believe he was still fucking her or doing something far worse. I shot Stacy an apologetic look before moving across the cell. The floor was ice cold against my feet, adding to the shudders rolling through me. Time seemed to slow down when I approached the bars, my fingers curling around them. My nipples pebbled due to the chilly atmosphere just as a chill tiptoed down my spine.
Pressing my face against the bars, I tried my hardest to look to where the noises were coming from, but it was too dark to see, and they were too far away.
My heart pounded furiously against my chest, fear skittering through me in endless waves. Everything grew deathly silent, adding to the eerie feeling washing over me, but I couldn’t move. And that might have made me the stupidest person on the planet.
At last, the silhouette of a man emerged, growing closer and closer until finally, he stepped out of the shadows. My lips parted in shock as I took him in from head to toe. Blood was splattered all over his face, arms, hands, and clothing. His blue eyes were two hardened orbs of destruction, and they were locked on mine. In his left hand was a knife, blood shining over the blade.
Hekilledsomeone.
I’d known the moment I met him that he was vile and evil, but I hadn’t expected this. He was worse than Dominic, killing without mercy or without any regard for the women he assaulted.
Just as Tristan drew closer, I began to step back. But he was quick, lunging toward the bars and wrapping his free, bloody hand around my wrist. It was still so warm and gooey. My stomach twisted with repulsion and agony; my hand trapped beneath his around the bars.
His breathing was erratic, like a monster had taken over andkilled his humanity completely, assuming he had any left to begin with.
“Why so scared, my Little Nightmare?” His voice was rugged, laced with condescension.
I was so scared I couldn’t move, my eyes locked on the knife in his free hand. If he wanted to, he could stab me through the bars right now. “W-whose blood is that?” I whispered, my gaze finding his again.
He hummed in response, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, smearing the blood on them. “Nobody important.”
I swallowed thickly. “Then none of us are important.”
His hand stalled momentarily, and for a second, I feared I’d pissed him off further. But his lips twitched, indicating it was anything but that. There was something so dark and sinister about him that it had my heart racing for different reasons. There were so many emotions warring through me, I couldn’t even settle on a specific one. But the most potent feeling was fear, so I channeled it all into that.
“If I fucked you in her blood, would you scream?” he asked suddenly, disregarding my last comment entirely.
I certainly wouldn’t like that, but I valued my life. “No,” I replied honestly.
