Page 86 of The Boy I Loved
Hazel’s throat bobbed with a nervous swallow, her gaze darting over to her two friends who appeared to be just as confused as the rest of us. Slowly, she made her way toward us, her movements careful and methodical.
As soon as she was in touching distance, Tristan reached out, circled his arm around her waist, and pulled her onto his lap.
Vincent shook his head, a crease forming between his brows like he didn’t entirely understand it either. It took a lot to surprise him, especially when it came to Tristan, but here he was—surprised.
Tristan’s hand instantly landed on Hazel’s inner thigh, the tips of his fingers disappearing beneath the skirt she wore.
Emerson scowled from one of the front tables, her eyes narrowing on the girl beside me. It was no secret that she’d developed feelings for Tristan. A lot of the girls did. He liked to play mind games with them—make them feel special, give them extra perks, and manipulate them. Over time, those girls would soften toward him, thinking he was interested. But he never was. Once he was done … well, we saw what happened with Nia.
Hazel was smarter than that though. She wouldn’t be toyed with so easily. There was no way in Hell she’d fall for a guy who forced himself on her so callously, and who murdered and raped the women around her without a care in the world.
“We’re going to be testing your knowledge today,” Tristan announced, running his nose up the side of Hazel’s neck, like he needed to be touching her at all times.
I suppose I’d rather she be on his good side than on his bad side. If he was interested in her, she’d have a higher chance of survival. That knowledge still did nothing for the jealousy burning through my system. I didn’t want his fucking hands on her.
“I’m going to ask you individual questions. If you speak out of turn, you will be punished,” he continued, slipping his hand further up Hazel’s skirt. I didn’t miss the way her thighs tightened like she was trying to keep him out, but it was a moot effort. “And if you get the answer wrong, you will be punished.” A soft grunt left him as he thrusted his fingers inside of her tight pussy, a gasp fluttering past her lips.
I was seconds away from saying ‘fuck it’ and tearing her away from him, consequences be damned. How many times had he fucked her by now? How many times had he eaten her pussy or fingered her?
“Jesus,” Azrael grumbled, shaking his head when he realized what Tristan was doing.
Tristan smirked at him in response, his eyes hardening. “You got something to say?” he challenged. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her tighter against his chest so that he had better access.
Azrael shook his head, knowing better than to fight him on this.
“Harley,” Tristan began, turning his attention back to the front of the room. “Who is the better gender?”
The girl tensed immediately, the muscle in the side of her jaw thrumming. “Men,” she gritted out. I could tell she only said it to appease him, but that was what surviving took in a place like this.
I wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. He was so focused on Hazel and what he was doing to her. The muscles in his bicep bulged, the sounds of her wet pussy making these suctioning sounds thatechoed through the quiet room. Her teeth dug into her plump, lower lip, like she had to fight herself not to make a single sound of pleasure. He was fucking obsessed with her.
Finally, he hummed in response, slowing down his movements as he glanced around the room again. “Why is hygiene important here?” he asked. “Lauren.”
“So that we’re presentable for you guys,” she answered shakily.
“If you’re told to murder one of your friends, what would you do?” He lowered his voice. “Hazel.”
She whimpered in response. “Do it,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Emerson scoffed. “You gave her like … the easiest question.”
Tristan froze, his eyes zeroing in on her. She knew as soon as the words rolled off her lips that she’d fucked up. Not only did she speak out of turn, but she also questioned his authority. He might have played favorites, but he didn’t let anyone undermine him, especially not a woman.
He helped Hazel to her feet, withdrawing his hand from her skirt, and to my surprise, pushed her into my lap. My hand circled her waist instantly and she slumped against my chest, the tension rolling from her shoulders instantly. Discreetly, I kissed the side of her neck. She arched her neck, allowing me more access, like she needed my touch to wash away his.
Tristan said nothing, stalking across the room to the supply cabinets. He typed in the code for one of them before rummaging through it. After a few moments, he grabbed something, closed the cabinet, and made a beeline for Emerson. In his hand was a hammer. Before she could even register what it was, he was swinging it at her face. The clawed point hit her right in the mouth, a scream tearing from her lungs as her head whipped to the side.
“You know better,” he snarled, fisting his free hand through her long, dark hair and jerking her out of her seat. “Move,” he growled,glaring at the other girls occupying the table. They instantly scrambled to their feet, the chairs sliding back against the hard floor.
Hazel tensed in my hold, her breathing becoming more shallow.
Tristan slammed Emerson on the table, her back landing hard against the surface. Blood was already running down her mouth, and I’d be surprised if he didn’t knock a tooth loose from when he’d hit her.
“Vincent. Come.”
Vincent didn’t even hesitate, appearing more bored than anything as he approached. He already seemed to know what Tristan wanted, taking his spot, and hooking his fingers into her underwear and jerking them down her thighs.
Emerson knew better than to fight him, lying there like a placid little doll as he fumbled with the button on his jeans and situated himself between her thighs. Once his pants were fixed around his ankles, he rammed inside her, the table jostling beneath them.
