Page 9 of The Boy I Loved
Her shoulders tensed, a look of disbelief crawling across her face like she was truly seeing me for the first time. Maybe she was. I wasn’t the same boy who left here all those months ago. A lot had changed since then.
I signed my soul to the fucking Devil, and he was collecting.
Hazel brushed past me, taking her candy-scented aroma with her. She always smelled sweet, and it was one of the things I hoped she’d never change about herself, but that also meant that the wrong people could be drawn to her as well. There were plenty of sick fucks out there who enjoyed the girl next door type. Unfortunately, Hazel fit the bill.
I followed behind her, keeping my gaze glued to the back of her head. I’d already caught a glimpse of her body and had no business paying any more attention to it—not here of all places where predators lurked in the shadows. If they thought I was interested, they’d go in for the kill. Her hips were fuller than I remembered, and her breasts had also grown. She looked like a woman now, which was a far cry from the girl I’d always hung out with. She was hot, in an innocent kind of way, and that scared me for her. She was just their type.
She wrenched the front door open and stormed inside. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions. I just hoped that no one noticed it. I waited a few beats before following behind her, letting the door fall closed once secured within the house. Laughter and chatter rang out, the noise making me want to commit mass murder. People were so goddamn stupid. My fingers flexed, my split knuckles sending a delicious kind of pain through my body with the movement.
Once she had disappeared through the kitchen where I knew her parents were waiting, some of the tension left my shoulders. She couldn’t be wandering around aimlessly—cluelessly. As much as I didn’t want her here, it was too late for that. Now, she needed to stay put until the house had cleared, or until someone could take her home. My fingertips danced along the scruff of my jaw as I drifted toward the corner of the house where a few of the Cobras stood, idling about with a sadistic gleam in their eyes.
“Hazel Montgomery.” Nicholas’ voice rang out, his gaze pinnedon where the living room separated into the kitchen, despite not being able to see her.
My body went rigid. “Not her.”Anyone but her and Alice.
Clay saw my welcome home party as an opportunity. He saweverythingas an opportunity. I wasn’t even sure why it surprised me anymore, but if I was looking at it from his perspective, it wasn’t a horrible move on his part. A lot of the girls from school would be here. The thought had my stomach twisting in knots. It was why I’d stressed to my mom not to allow Hazel to step foot in here today. As long as the Cobras were on the hunt, no one was safe.
“Why not?” Vincent questioned, raising an eyebrow at me. He didn’t seem surprised, though. He knew about my history with her—that we’d grown up together. He didn’t know about the stolen kisses, about the time I sank inside of her sweet, tight, virgin pussy. He just knew that we were friends. It needed to stay that way.
I shrugged. “I’m in the mood for a challenge. And Hazel Montgomery is no challenge.” A small smile stretched across my face, one I hoped looked sincere, or even unhinged. Anything to get them to back the fuck off.
Mason ran a hand through his short blond hair, rolling his lower lip between his teeth in a contemplative gesture. “Maybe you’re right,” he agreed. “The ones that put up a fightarethe most fun.” He glanced around the room again, scoping the place out. “What about her?” He motioned to a dark-headed girl near the back of the room, a girl I knew all too well. Stacy Mcintyre.
She had it bad for me during our earlier years of high school. Targeted Hazel out of jealousy because of our friendship. I didn’t think it warranted the fate Mason was suggesting, but as long as it kept their attention elsewhere, then so be it.
“Sure,” I replied calmly. “She’s a feisty little bitch. Could be just what we’re looking for.”
I didn’t know Stacy all that well. Just that she was a real cunt to other girls at school and had no problem spreading her legs for theguys she deemed socially acceptable. She wasn’t necessarily a whore, but she was far from a virgin, that was for damn sure. Mason smirked back at me, a cold sort of calculation entering his gaze. He enjoyed this sick shit way too much. When I first met him, he was a troubled little fuck. Jumping from couch to couch because his dad had kicked him out. He got a job working for my uncle and eventually moved in with him. Things changed after that. He’d always been a bit darker, troubled, and intense. I just didn’t realize how deep that went until we became one and the same.
Mason slapped a hand against my shoulder, tugging me back with a manic grin on his face. “She’s still a thin little thing, though, huh?” He released an exaggerated sigh. “Too bad Hazel is so…soft. She’s filled out. Kind of makes me wonder what those tits look like.”
“And that ass,” Vincent chimed in with a groan.
They were trying to get a rise out of me, to see if there were deeper feelings than I was letting on, but it wouldn’t work. The one thing I’d learned by being a part of the Cobras, was that a single facial expression could give you away, could reveal your weaknesses. It was something I’d perfected. Keeping my expression stoic, I glanced between them.
“A damn shame,” I agreed smoothly, the words tasting bitter along my tongue.
The thought of them getting to her had my body tensing, not that they’d notice. It was subtle enough, but I felt it in the curl of my fingers, and in the stiffness of my shoulders. She was too innocent for our world. Not to mention, it wasn’t a place for a girl like her. She was mine. Maybe not anymore, but she would always have a piece of me. I wouldn’t subject her to this life. Not if I could help it, and the only way to keep her away was if she thought I hated her.
“Maybe we should go talk to her,” Nicholas suggested, jerking his chin toward Stacy. “Reel her in.”
“I’m down.” Mason grinned, glancing over at me and Vincent. “You?”
I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. This was the game. Scope the girls out, get them nice and comfortable, and then strike. They’d never see it coming. Sometimes, we had to take different measures and swipe them up off the side of the road. As much as I hated it, there was nothing like the rush of adrenaline that came with it.
Mason took the lead, leaving us to follow him through the crowded room. Stacy was positioned near the far side, lurking against the wall with a glass of champagne in her hand. The way her eyes kept darting around the vicinity, told me she was waiting for someone, which meant that we needed to act fast if we were going to do this. When her gaze settled on us, a flash of surprise crossed her features. In school, we barely paid her any mind. We all had different types. For me, Hazel was the only girl I wanted. Not that I hadn’t fucked chicks before her, but when I realized how deeply she’d crept into my soul, into my heart, I didn’t want anyone else. It didn’t stop Stacy from trying, though.
“Hey, girl.” Mason slid up beside her like they were long lost friends, his tone easy and casual. He was probably the smoothest out of the four of us, so he did most of the talking. I’d been trained for the harder shit, the morephysicalshit. Nicholas was usually the getaway driver if we needed one, and Vincent was a hybrid who did a bit of everything.
Stacy looked between us, her fingers tightening around her glass. She was nervous. Smart girl. “H-hi.” Her gaze found mine, a question forming in her brown eyes.
My gaze traveled down the length of her. She was wearing a short, purple dress that hugged her tight body. She was stick thin, but there was a market for everything.
“I was just telling the guys here how good you looked in thatoutfit,” Mason continued, shooting her a lopsided grin. He had this way about him that was comforting. He could lure women in easily, and didn’t have the same sharp edge to him the rest of us did—not noticeably, at least. It was there when you got to know him, when you were able to read his tells. To anyone else, he was a charmer. To us, he was ammunition.
Stacy glanced down at her dress, a slight tint of pink coating her cheeks. “Oh?” she asked in surprise, her posture already beginning to relax somewhat. “Thank you.”
Vincent nodded his agreement. “I like the way it hugs your body.” He took a step toward her, not enough to be threatening, but enough to make her think he was coming onto her. He dropped a hand to her waist, pulling her toward him in a slow, deliberate gesture.
