Page 96 of The Boy I Loved
“You’ll see her in training tomorrow,” I offered lightly, taking a drink of my apple juice.
Stacy had healed a lot since I’d first arrived. The slashes across her chest had mostly closed up and the bruising around her eye was a light-yellow tint now. From what I’d seen, Vincent and Tristan had mostly left her alone, which gave her the opportunity to rest and get better.
She blew out a sigh and nodded, her brown eyes shifting around the room. She was always on edge now. I didn’t blame her. This place housed the worst of the worst, and you couldn’t let your guard down for even a second.
“How are things with Dominic?” she pressed, keeping her tone low and controlled.
I shrugged, my stomach hollowing out from the mere mention of his name. He’d been keeping his distance from me ever since thetorture room, not that I blamed him. It still sucked, though. Sometimes, seeing his face was the only thing that helped me.
“I don’t know,” I muttered truthfully. “It’s hard to have a relationship in a place like this, not to mention … the kinds of things he does.”
Stacy nodded in agreement. “Yeah. That’s true.” She paused, her throat bobbing like she wanted to ask me something else but wasn’t sure if she should. Finally, she blew out an exasperated breath and met my gaze again. “What the hell is going on with you and Tristan?”
I reeled back, my eyes widening in surprise. “I-I … Nothing.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t play coy with me. I’m not the only one who’s noticed it. And you seem to forget, I was in the cell right next to yours.”
My eyebrows dipped in confusion. “I’m telling the truth, Stacy. I just do what he tells me to, so I don’t get in trouble. There’s nothing going on between us at all.”
Frankly, I was a little offended she thought that. I’d have to be blind and deaf to fall for someone like him. He was hot, but that was the extent of his appeal. Looks didn’t matter, not when they were overshadowed by sinister intent.
“From what I’ve heard, he’s never made any of his selected girls wear clothes before,” she pointed out, glancing down at her fork. “He’s also never allowed them early access to the lounge or allowed them to bring a friend. And he’sneverallowed a girl to take control during sex.”
My head spun as I worked to process everything she was telling me. I didn’t think for one second that Tristan felt anything more for me than obsession. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a small thrill out of being possessed by him, but that was because I was bored. There was nothing to do here, and it was better than being beaten half to death, humiliated publicly, or killed.
“What was it like when he fucked you?” I asked, absently stirring my spoon through my vegetable soup.
Stacy was silent for a few moments. “Awful. He called me names the entire time, jerked my hair so hard it brought tears to my eyes, and brutally raped me until I bled. He then proceeded to say I was worthless, had a useless cunt, and then beat me with a whip.”
A shudder rolled through me, my spoon slipping from my fingers and clattering against the side of the bowl. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, glancing away. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
She snorted in response. “I think I’d take the whip over consuming a dead girl’s clit.”
A surprised laugh bubbled up from my throat, the sound foreign to my own ears. It was such an odd and morbid thing to laugh about, but what she said was true. I’d endured some pretty horrible things at the hands of Tristan, too.
Stacy was grinning too, and this time, the smile did reach her eyes.
We used to be friends in middle school. She used to come over on the weekends and we’d get ready for the upcoming football games. We weren’t best friends, but we were close. The summer after eighth grade, she’d become distant. She texted me here and there and we met up a few times, but that was it. When ninth grade rolled around, she was hateful and vicious. I didn’t understand why she had changed so suddenly. I always thought it was because of jealousy, but maybe it was something else.
Regardless, it wasn’t important. There was no use talking about the past. We were kids then, anyway. Popularity must have gotten to her head, combined with the urge to have Dominic. That was the same year she befriended Lauren, so it didn’t surprise me.
After lunch, we made our way to our room. I was enjoying this part of the compound. I could hang out in my room on the weekend without any expectations.
It was weird how normal this was becoming. My mind flashedto my mom and dad, their smiles reflecting through my memory. I wasn’t sure how many days had passed since I’d seen them last, but I knew they were probably sick with worry. The child they never thought they’d be able to conceive was missing along with two of the other girls in town. My chest tightened harshly. They deserved a better child—one who wouldn’t turn up their nose in the face of danger and walk right into it headfirst. My bad decisions didn’t only ruin my life, but they ruined my parents’, too.
Tory slid to the forefront of my brain next. She was usually right about people. She never liked Dominic, and she hated his friends even more, especially Mason. I thought she was just being stereotypical, placing them all in the same box everyone else did. In society’s eyes, they were no good—bad boys on a one-way street to destruction.
They weren’t wrong.
I blew out a shaky breath, my thighs quivering from the onslaught I’d been subjected to a few days ago. My entire body ached, reminding me of the horrific life I now lived.
If there was ever an opportunity, I’d kill Tristan without a second thought. Fire spread through my limbs at the mere suggestion of ending his life. I’d make it slow and painful, just as he did for every woman he massacred and assaulted. Maybe I’d even feed him another man’s cock, or their balls—just so he knew how repulsive and awful it was.
“Do you think we’ll survive this?” I muttered, glancing over at Stacy who had made her way to her own bed. I already knew what she’d say; the same things she’d said before.
Stacy rolled her lower lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “No.” She sighed.
I agreed with her. Getting sent to one of the clubs was our best chance of survival. From what some of the other girls had said, the brothel wasn’t much better than the compound. Maybe if I did what I was supposed to, completed my training, kept Tristan interested inme long enough, then I could convince Clay to send me to one of the clubs. At this point, I was willing to do anything in order to survive. There wasn’t a sensual bone in my body, but I’d learn if needed.
