Page 20 of The Boy I Loved (Eternal Hell #1)
Stepping on the gas, the engine rumbled, sending vibrations through my feet.
Mason muttered a curse as he grasped onto the handle hanging above him, using it to keep himself in place.
Adrenaline shot through my veins, trees blurring on either side of me.
A manic laugh bubbled up from my throat, the speedometer climbing higher and higher.
“I swear to God, Dominic, if you fucking kill me, I will come back as a goddamn demon and eat you.” Mason’s panicked words blurred together; his fear palpable in the way they were spoken.
“Chances are … if you die, I die. So, good luck with that.”
At the next street, I took another right and then a sharp left. Lauren’s convertible screeched to a stop before me, just as I whipped my car sideways, blocking her exit.
Lauren’s frantic gaze locked on mine and she quickly looked over her shoulder, taking note of Nicholas who had just pulled up behind her, caging her in.
“Let’s roll,” Mason said, his voice trembling slightly from the near-death experience he thought he’d just partaken in.
Imbecile.
I wrenched my car door open and stepped onto the asphalt, plucking my sunglasses from the front pocket of my jacket.
I slid them on and lowered my gaze to the road, knowing that there was no such thing as too careful in this line of work.
Mason, on the other hand, jerked his hood over his head, shielding his face before slipping out of the vehicle .
Our shoes scuffed against the road, pebbles skittering over the concrete as we walked.
“What the hell do you guys think you’re doing?” Lauren snapped, joining us outside. She had no idea how much danger she was in. “Did you follow me?”
Nicholas and Vincent clambered out of their car too, creeping up behind her. Stupidly, her attention was zeroed in on Mason and I.
“We just wanted to have a little fun.” Mason laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. His voice was much calmer than it had been moments ago.
“You’re not funny,” she snapped. “You scared the shit out of me. I could have wrecked.”
You’ll wish you had, I thought to myself, rolling my lower lip between my teeth to keep myself from saying the words aloud.
By the time she realized the two men approaching behind her, it was too late. She whirled, a squeal of surprise fleeing her lips. Before she could do much else, Vince was stabbing a syringe into the side of her neck. A garbled sound rolled off her tongue before her legs trembled and she fell.
Nicholas caught her easily, while Vincent didn’t even try.
“We’ll meet you at the shop,” Mason told them.
I followed Mason back to my vehicle and slid in the front seat, the adrenaline from earlier slowly dissipating. The leather creaked beneath my weight as I readjusted my position. This better not have interfered with school in the morning.
My entire world revolved around Clay and what he wanted.
For the last two years I’d done nothing but show my complete loyalty to him.
When would he grant me leniency? When would he allow me distance?
I thought by finishing out the school year, it would be distance enough—especially since he’d be at the compound.
Lauren was the second girl to go, so hopefully …
after we gave him the third one, he’d lay off a bit.
The drive to the shop wasn’t nearly as long as I wished. I parked around the back, away from prying eyes, unsurprised to find Nicholas’ car already there and empty. We’d taken different routes due to how we were positioned on the street, so he and Vince had a head start.
“You think Clay’s still here?” Mason asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Maybe.”
Clay had talked about heading back to the compound to run things there, leaving Kurt in charge here. Though, he never specified when.
I followed Mason through the lot. Gravel flew around our feet, biting into our ankles when some of it managed to weave its way up our pantlegs. I shook out my foot, trying to dislodge some of the tiny rocks that had snuck through.
As usual, the shop reeked of motor oil and gasoline, the foul stench burning my nose with every inhale. A few of the guys were on their way to the garage—presumably to do some mechanic work. Bret gave the two of us a small nod of acknowledgment before slipping through the door.
“You think they’re already fucking her?” Mason whispered so low that I could barely make it out.
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to ignore the excited look flashing through his eyes. He was as demented as my uncle was—as demented as Tristan was.
We made our way down the hall and toward the soundproof room waiting at the end. I gripped the knob and attempted to turn it, but as expected, it didn’t give. Lifting my knuckles, I brought them against the door a few times.
Mason arched an eyebrow, staring at me like I was stupid. “It’s soundproofed, you idiot,” he admonished.
“They can still hear us, you idiot ,” I shot back in a mocking tone. “We just can’t hear them.”
A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought about that, but before he could comment any more on the subject, the door cracked open.
Vincent poked his head out, his eyes raking over the two of us before he opened the door wider to allow us entry. We stepped through, letting the door close behind us with a soft click of the lock.
Lauren was strapped down to a table, her head lolling to the side as she slept. It was one of those tables that could be readjusted—the kind you could fuck someone on without them having to move a muscle. My pulse began racing at the implication. No way was that a coincidence.
“Dominic, Mason,” Clay called out, drawing my attention to where he stood near the bar. “Come get a drink.”
I glanced over at Nicholas and Vince, who were already settled back in the matching recliners, nursing their own beverages.
Mason didn’t seem to carry the same nervous edge I did, he strode forward with ease, meeting my uncle at the bar.
Kurt was nestled into a chair on the other side of the room, smoking a cigar.
His black hair was slicked back, though…
I wasn’t sure if it was from gel or grease.
Reluctantly, I made my way toward Clay, accepting the glass of whiskey he handed me.
“You boys did good.” He smiled, looking between the four of us with appreciation.
Nausea coiled around my stomach at his praise. It used to excite me. Now, it repulsed me. He was only ever happy if we were harming others. There was something so dark and sinister about my uncle, that the reason my father distanced himself from him in the first place became very clear.
“I have to admit, though…” Clay continued, swirling the contents within his glass in a circular motion. “I didn’t expect you guys to abduct a pretty lady on the first day of school.” Amusement sparkled within his eyes, and it only made the queasy feeling inside of me grow .
“She was asking too many questions,” I responded, keeping my tone neutral and calm.
Clay arched an eyebrow, bringing the glass to his lips before taking a slow sip. “Now, why’s that?”
Tension rolled through my shoulders at the warning in his tone. In his eyes, if people were asking questions, then we probably fucked up. Maybe we did. We should have been more discreet and patient when going after Stacy.
“Lauren is Stacy’s friend,” I explained.
“I see…” he trailed off. His expression remained impassive, not giving anything away. He turned and set his whiskey on the bar. “I’m assuming Lauren knew you were the last to see her.” It wasn’t a question.
The room was thick with tension. Everyone’s eyes seemed to stick to me, sensing what I’d say next. Or maybe they were just waiting for Clay to snap. I wasn’t the one who targeted Stacy, but if there was one thing my uncle hated more than a fuck up, it was a snitch.
“Yes, Sir.”
Clay nodded, a crease forming between his brows. Subtly, he took the glass from between my hands and placed it next to his on the bar. “You realize that was reckless, don’t you?”
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my expression stoic despite the nerves unraveling within me. “I do.”
“I taught you to be smarter than that,” he added.
Fuck .
We really fucked up.
I was bracing for the impact before his fist connected with the side of my face. Pain radiated through my jaw, copper flooding my mouth from where my teeth had scraped. My jaw throbbed incessantly, but the pain subsided soon after.
Blowing out a ragged breath, I spit the blood on the floor, not giving a shit how much it pissed him off .
Clay plucked a handkerchief from the front pocket of his work vest and wiped his hand off—like touching me was enough to give him some kind of disease.
Once he was satisfied, he returned the handkerchief to his pocket and offered me my whiskey again as if nothing had happened, as if he didn’t just punch me in the face.
“Anything else I should know?” he asked calmly.
“No,” I grumbled, grabbing my whiskey glass and downing it entirely. The liquid was smooth down my throat but elicited a burn that erupted within my chest moments later.
Clay jerked a nod, his eyes flicking back to the girl who remained unconscious. “Good. No more fuck ups from here on out.”