Page 85 of The Boy I Loved
“Jesus,” Nicholas grumbled, shaking his head. At least one of us was on the same page.
“Scared me for a second there,” Mason replied, twirling his fork through the eggs he’d just stabbed. “When I saw Hazel this morning, she was covered in dried blood. I thought he’d done something to her.”
My fingers tightened further around my eating utensil, unease coiling around my gut. He touched herafterbrutalizing Nia? Repulsion bubbled up inside of me.
“Damn. I bet she looks hot as fuck in red.” Vincent smirked. “The innocent bitch, soaked in blood. I wish I could have seen that.”
My teeth scraped together. I hated how they spoke of her. I hated how the thought of her drenched in blood appealed to them. Hazel was mine, regardless of what Tristan thought. He could claim her a million times over, but she was fuckingmine. She must have been terrified. She had to listen to Nia get slaughtered and then had to deal with Tristan herself right after, while the blood was probably still fresh and warm on his skin.
Nicholas met my gaze from across the table, like he knew I was seconds away from losing my shit. He gave me a subtle shake of his head before returning his attention to his food. He was right. I couldn’t lose my cool here. Everything was being tested. Still, it didn’t tamp down the anger burning through my veins.
“What are you planning on doing for training today?” Iinquired, my gaze flicking to Mason. Anything to steer the conversation away from the girl I loved.
Mason’s lips twitched. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he challenged with an arched eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t give a damn about winning some stupid challenge.
“I’d be more interested in trying to win,” Nicholas commented, having caught my facial expression. “Clay upped the ante.”
This caught my attention. I straightened my shoulders, curiosity burning through me. “How?” I asked, glancing around the table.
A smirk tugged at the edges of Vincent’s mouth. “The class who wins gets to take one of the girls to their room for an entire weekend. The person who wins, gets first dibs.”
My mind immediately went to Hazel. I could spend some time alone with her if I managed to win. But that would mean I’d have to beat Mason, Vincent, and Tristan, which also meant I’d have to do horrendous things to some of the girls just to surpass them. It wasn’t worse than anything I’d done before, but Hazel was here to witness it now. That changed everything.
Would I be able to do it if it meant spending time with her? Would it make her hate me?
After we finished eating and made our way into the lounge, my eyes landed on her instantly. There wasn’t a drop of blood on her in sight. She was seated at a table with Lauren and Stacy as usual, her hair much cleaner than it had been the last time I’d seen her. That wasn’t the only thing that caught my attention. She wasn’t dressed like the other girls. She was wearing a black and white plaid skirt with a black tank top, and a black and white plaid flannel that tied in the front.
My hand landed on Mason’s shoulder as he moved to walk away, my fingertips digging into the muscle there. “Why is Hazel wearing clothes?” I demanded. “Likeactualclothes.”
Mason shrugged me off, shooting me a glare for ruffling up hisshirt. He smoothed it out, casting a small glance in Hazel’s direction before returning his attention to me again.
“Tristan doesn’t want anyone else to see her body. He had me get her clothes to change into this morning. He also had me move her into a room in the lounge. I think the dude is pussy-whipped.” He scoffed like the mere thought of a guy being controlled by good pussy was appalling.
“Why?” I demanded. “He’s never done that before.”
Mason shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t interrogate him. He was covered in blood when I saw him.”
I blew out a frustrated breath and turned my focus back on the girl in question. Her shoulders were rolled inward, and she wasn’t touching her food. Whatever she went through last night clearly traumatized her. I wanted to go to her, to give her false promises that everything would be okay, and that it would all work out. But I couldn’t.
She drew Tristan in more than any girl he’d ever fucked with had been able to, and I didn’t know what that would mean for her.
I made my way to the training room later that day, side-eyeing Tristan as I navigated my way toward the sofa at the front of the room. He was busy, going over the list on the clipboard with the other guys.
“We could quiz them,” Azrael suggested.
To my surprise, Tristan nodded. “Yeah. We might as well. It’ll give them a small break before we fuck their shit up on Monday.”
The guys joined me on the couch a few moments later. Silence descended around us, the tension in the room thickening. It might have been one-sided but the thought of Tristan—who hated women and didn’t even view them as people—liking Hazel as more than something to stick his dick in had my blood warming.
The girls began to trickle in through the door a few moments later, my eyes pinging to Hazel like she was the only one who existed. To me, shewasthe only one. Everything about her called tome. Her wavy hair, her green eyes, her curvy body. She was beautiful.
Before she could sit down at the usual table she frequented, Tristan straightened beside me. “Hazel,” he called out, capturing her attention. I didn’t miss the way her entire body locked up at the sound of his voice.
Blood roared through my ears and my skin prickled with awareness. My mind was on a constant loop, trying to figure out why he’d be requesting her at the beginning of a session like this. Hell, we hadn’t even started, and he was calling out to her.
“Come to me,” he ordered, never taking his eyes off her.
