Page 98 of The Boy I Loved
Clay nodded, not displaying an ounce of emotion. “As expected,” he mumbled. “Have you ever thought about doing porn? Has Dominic ever filmed you two having sex?”
I glanced over at Mason, but his expression was just as unreadable as Clay’s. I didn’t know how any of this held any relevance. Turning back to the monster interrogating me, I shook my head.
“I have you down for your first porn session next weekend,” he explained. “From what I’ve been told and have witnessed, you’ve been on pretty good behavior.” He arched an eyebrow, and I didn’t miss the small flicker of surprise that flashed within his beady eyes. “We reward those who deserve it. Is there someone specific you’d like to train you for your first session?” he pressed. “Aside from Dominic. He’d be too gentle and easy on you.”
The urge to tell him to go to Hell and die was strong, but I knew that if I wanted to survive and potentially get into one of the clubs, I’d need to continue being on my best behavior. My mind whirled as I contemplated his question. On one hand, Tristan was one of the last people I wanted to touch me, but I also wanted to keep him interested. On the other, if I chose Tristan, he could get the wrongidea and assume I was already into him, leading him to get bored of me rather quickly.
I didn’t understand why I needed to be trained to have sex on camera. It wasn’t like I wasthatinexperienced.
Clamping my eyes shut tightly, my chest rose and fell with each ragged inhale. Deciding to rip the band aid off, I cracked open my eyes again. “Mason.” His name tasted like acid on my lips, defeat settling within me. He was still a better alternative than Tristan or Vincent, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
Clay’s eyebrows rose, the surprise evident in his features. Even Mason seemed surprised that I would have picked him. It would seem that we all shared that sentiment.
“Not Tristan?” Clay inquired curiously.
I scoffed, unable to hide my hatred for him. “No. I have survival instincts. I’m not stupid.” He thought I was already smitten with Tristan, just like his former playthings were, but I was too observant. I’d play his game because that was what kept me alive, but it would never be more than that.
Clay hummed thoughtfully, his lips twitching at the corners. “You might survive just yet, Hazel Montgomery.”
A screamof despair tore from my throat but was quickly muffled by the pillow beneath me. Stacy was off doing who knew what. After my meeting with Clay, she’d been MIA, and right before that, she’d retreated into herself. At least it gave me some time by myself.
Between Tristan, Vincent, and Mason, Mason was the best choice. I suppose I could have chosen Rodney, but for some reason, his deceptiveness cut me deeper than I wanted to admit.Not to mention, I didn’t know how violent or aggressive he’d be. Mason wasn’t exactly gentle from my previous encounters with him, but he wasn’t overly violent either. It was just a risk I had to take.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I pushed myself off the mattress and made my way over to my closet. I grabbed a change of clothes and slipped into the bathroom. It wasn’t anything fancy. There was a double-wide mirror, a toilet, and a bathtub with a shower attachment. Placing my clothes on the counter, I snatched a towel from one of the cabinets and dropped it on the back of the toilet before turning to the tub.
Just as I was stripping off my clothes and preparing the warm water, a loud bang reverberated through my bedroom on the other side of the door.
My breath caught in my throat, and my first thought was Stacy. Standing in the middle of my bathroom naked, I took a cautious step toward the door, only to have it fly open and ram against the wall beside it. I leapt back, my heart skipping into my throat.
Tristan’s scowl told me all I needed to know. He’d spoken with Clay or Mason.
I held out my hands in front of me, fear punching through my body in violent waves. I’d never had his anger directed at me like this before, and it was a sight I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to be on the receiving end of.
“L-let me explain,” I stammered, hoping he’d calm down enough for me to give him some lame sob story.
Tristan wasn’t super muscular, but he stood tall, his looming shadow bleeding over the bathroom tile. The veins in his arms bulged in tune with his prominent rage. Oh God. He was going to kill me. My plan backfired and he was going to end me now, just like he did to Nia and Emerson. My stomach twisted, creating a series of knots.
“Nothing to explain,” he ground out, his voice vibrating with theanimosity I could see in his eyes. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear.”
My feet were frozen to the cold floor as he made his way toward me with calculating steps. The rage poured off him in thick waves, filling the small space of my bathroom. The warm water didn’t help matters, steam billowing from the tub and seeping into my bare skin.
He reached out, wrapping his hand around my throat. Fear skittered down my spine as he squeezed, cutting off my airflow. He backed me into the wall a few feet away, the coldness of it sending a shiver through me. Instinctively, my hands snapped out, curling around his wrist as if I could stop him from choking the life out of me when I knew it was in vain.
“How many times do I have to tell you you’re mine before you get the message?” he snarled. “How many times do I have to fuck it into you for it to click?”
I trembled against him, his fingers flexing around my throat. I’d been scared a number of times, but nothing compared to how I felt now. I’d seen him brutally kill Emerson, and that had been because she asked a simple question. He killed Nia out of boredom. What I did … He viewed that as a betrayal. There was no way he wouldn’t kill me now.
“Please,” I whimpered, the words getting stuck in my throat due to the tight grip of his hand.
Adding more pressure, he shoved me against the wall with more ferocity. My head thumped against it, sending a spike of pain through my skull. My breathing had been completely cut off, desperation trickling through my veins. I fought helplessly for breath, struggling against his hold on me and digging my fingernails into his arm. Nothing seemed to deter him, and that was even more terrifying.
“I should fuck you bloody,” he snarled, his blue eyes flashing with malice and retribution. “I could make it hurt. That way, whenMason is balls deep inside of your tight cunt, all you’ll be able to feel isme.”
I attempted to swallow beneath the tight grip he had on my throat, but it was a moot point. He was pushing in, restricting the air from flowing in and out of my body. White spots danced around the edges of my vision, fear flooding through me in shockwaves. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I held them, unwilling to give him a reason to hurt me further.
Tristan looked completely unhinged, even more so than usual. His dark blonde hair was swept over his forehead, his blue eyes darker than normal. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen Mason. Maybe I’d read the signs wrong.
With his free hand, he reached into the pocket of his dark jeans and pulled something out. From past experiences, anything he pulled out of his pocket probably wasn’t good. For my sake, I hoped it wasn’t another body part.
