Page 72 of The Boy I Loved (Eternal Hell #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

DOMINIC

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

Hazel’s eyes had dimmed even more since I’d last seen her.

She hadn’t so much as said a single word to me, even when I’d attempted casual conversation.

Instead, she sat on my bed with her knees drawn to her chest. Her delicate features were twisted with discomfort, like something was physically hurting her.

“Are you okay?” I asked hesitantly.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. Of course she wasn’t okay . In just the short amount of time she’d been here, she had been subjected to all kinds of evil—rape, murder, torture, being stripped from her home and family.

The list seemed endless.

Hazel’s eyes narrowed, a cold film sliding over her orbs. It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for, but it was better than the former. It meant that she was still in there somewhere.

“Why am I here?” she demanded, avoiding my question.

“Do you not want to be?” I countered, arching an eyebrow.

She didn’t reply for a few moments, her hands absently moving to her lower abdomen.

“No,” she said at last. The words were like a knife to my heart.

I knew the situation wasn’t ideal, but at least we had this small window of time together.

“I don’t want to be here,” she continued.

Her jaw twitched with anger, her gaze finding mine.

“I don’t want to see you, sleep with you, acknowledge you, or put up with you.

” She winced as she situated herself on the bed, her fingers pressing against her stomach.

My throat constricted, her vile words echoing through my skull. I knew she wouldn’t like what happened to Stacy, but it was a necessary evil. It was the only way.

Blowing out a breath, I fought the urge to reach out and grab her. I wanted to make her understand, to see that it had to be done. For us.

“Hazel…” I trailed off, my eyebrows tugging together in contemplation as I thought about what to say next. “I know you were becoming close with Stacy. I know that what you saw?—”

“You don’t know shit, Dominic,” she snapped, her eyes blazing with her inner turmoil. “You don’t know what it’s like to be violated, to watch the only friends you have be picked off like fleas.”

I opened my mouth but knew there was nothing I could say to make it any better. Instead, my gaze dropped to her hands. They were resting lightly over her stomach, her fingertips gently tracing the fabric over her abdomen.

“Are you okay?” I asked, changing the subject. “You seem to be in pain.”

She scoffed, her lips twisting into a scowl. “Am I okay?” she repeated mockingly. “What kind of question is that even? Seriously, Dominic.”

A frustrated breath expelled from my throat. “I’m sorry you’re in this situation, Hazel. You should have left me alone when I told you to.”

Hazel’s eyes widened in disbelief, hurt mixing with anger shining in their depths. “This is my fault? You really believe that? ”

Did I believe that?

The question was a loaded one. Had I been more firm with her, maybe she would have listened. I’d forgotten how stubborn she could be. Then again, Mason was still a factor. He still would have weaseled his way in just like he had. Mason and Clay were the true ones to blame.

“No.” I sighed. “Clay would have taken you regardless. He told me as much. He’d been interested in you since he first saw you, and even more so when he realized how close we were. I’m not sure there was ever a way around this.”

My honesty seemed to drain some of the fight from her.

A frown tugged at her lips as she processed my words.

I didn’t blame her for being angry with me.

She was in a fucked-up position. I wished there was a way to make it better, to save her from this life, but I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do that wouldn’t get us both killed.

I might not have gotten to spend the quality time with Hazel that I’d wanted, but we got to talk and that was enough.

Sighing, I snatched my glass of whiskey off the bar and downed it in one gulp, relishing the burn it inflicted within my throat.

Rodney strolled up to me seconds later, his eyebrows drawn together.

I wasn’t even sure he noticed me at first as he fixed himself a drink and turned to press his back against the bar.

“Something’s happened,” he said lowly, casting a nervous glance in my direction.

“Something is always happening,” I pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Rodney shook his head, frustration etching its way into his features.

That was when it hit me. Whatever he was talking about must have been serious.

Straightening my posture, I glanced around the room for any potential eavesdroppers.

When the coast appeared to be clear, I closed the distance between me and Rodney, trying to make it look as nonchalant and casual as possible.

“What happened?” I asked, my heart thumping loudly. I knew that whatever he said I wasn’t going to like.

“I’m not sure. I just came from upstairs. I overheard Clay yelling at Tristan.” He blew out a shaky breath, finally meeting my eye. “I heard Hazel’s name too. I think that whatever had Clay so pissed involves her.”

The breath was knocked from my lungs instantly, the world tilting beneath my feet. Clay never yelled at Tristan. And if it involved Hazel … that couldn’t mean anything good.

“I’m going up there,” I decided.

Rodney grabbed my arm before I could even move. “Please don’t tell them I said anything.” The desperation in his eyes told me all I needed to know.

He was stuck just like me.

“I won’t.” I tugged my arm free and hurried for the elevator.

My stomach was a ball of knots as I slipped inside and jammed my finger into the button.

Maybe Rodney had misheard. Maybe it didn’t involve Hazel at all.

I tried my best to reassure myself that it could be a big misunderstanding, but then I remembered how shaken up Rodney had been.

It took a lot to rattle him, which meant that whatever he had heard must have been a lot.

Once the elevator came to a stop, I wasted no time rushing toward Clay’s office. As expected, the door was closed. Voices echoed from within, Clay’s baritone loud enough to shake the walls.

“I’ve given you a lot of fucking leeway, Tristan. But this time, you’ve gone too far.” Even I flinched, my hand hovering over the door handle.

Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, I willed myself to man the fuck up. For years, I’d done my best to stay in Clay’s good graces. I’d been beaten, forced to do unforgettable things, blackmailed, threatened, and more. That was how Clay kept me in check. But when it came to Hazel or Alice…

I couldn’t keep sitting by and letting bad shit happen to the people I cared about.

With that thought in mind, I pushed down on the handle, wincing when the door clicked open.

The sound was like a gunshot in silence, but it was unlikely they’d even heard me with all the yelling.

Blowing out another nervous breath, I pushed the door open wider and slipped inside before closing it gently behind me.

Clay wasn’t behind his desk like he usually was. Instead, he was looming over Tristan, who seemed completely unbothered by my uncle’s outburst.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, glancing between them warily.

They both turned their attention to me, their expressions unreadable. Clay was the first to speak. “No. It’s not fucking okay,” he snarled, glaring at Tristan. “This dumb fuck tattooed one of our most important girls.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, not quite understanding. “I’m confused…” I trailed off. “We have a few tatted girls here?—”

“No, no, no,” Clay muttered, swiping his hands through his disheveled hair. “Let me clarify. He tattooed his name on her. She’s practically useless now. I mean, what man wants to fuck a bitch who has another man’s name across her body?”

I glanced over at Tristan, Rodney’s words bouncing around my skull.

He tattooed Hazel. That was where she came into this.

I thought back to my time with her over the weekend and how she seemed to be in pain.

She kept rubbing her stomach. As if Tristan could see the realization sparking through my brain, his lips curved up into a taunting smirk.

But he didn’t understand. This went beyond fighting over her.

It went beyond claiming ownership over her .

“What did you do?” I whispered, fear slithering through my gut.

Tristan rolled his eyes as if I were the one being dramatic. “I did what I had to. You might be okay with other guys fucking her and seeing her naked, but I’m not. I knew if I tatted my name on her, she wouldn’t be able to do her porn shoot.”

What he was saying made sense, but he still didn’t seem to realize what the fuck he’d just done.

Clay rounded his desk and plopped down into his leather chair. He swiped his whiskey glass off the surface and downed it, peering up at the ceiling like he was praying to a god who would have condemned him to eternal Hell by now.

“Hazel Montgomery is useless to me now,” Clay announced, his voice much calmer than it had been. “You know what we do to useless bitches around here?” He arched an eyebrow, his gaze settling on Tristan.

Tristan straightened in his seat, the wheels in his mind beginning to turn. As if it all hit him at once, the color drained from his face.

“They die,” Clay continued, pouring himself another glass. “Her execution will be tomorrow evening.”

As soon as we’d been dismissed by Clay, I turned on Tristan, hitting him hard with a right hook.

His head snapped to the side, blood coating his lower lip.

I’d been wanting to fuck his shit up ever since he fucked Hazel that first time.

Still, it brought me no satisfaction. She was going to die because of him.

“I should kill you,” I seethed.

Tristan’s eyes hardened, a cold foam sliding over his irises. He took a threatening step toward me, his upper lip curling into a snarl. “ She was doomed to die anyway. You should know that better than anyone.”

Rage licked up my spine, trickling through my veins until I felt its familiar warmth.

If anyone deserved to die, it was him. It was his fault Hazel was as fucked in the head as she was.

It was his fault she was being sent to her death tomorrow, and it was his fault that his child had to grow up without a mother—assuming he even allowed the infant to live.

“That’s it, then?” I countered, not sure what I was hoping for.

He shrugged in response, swiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “That’s it.”

How could I have forgotten? Tristan only gave a shit about himself. A small part of me hoped he actually felt something for her—that this wasn’t just another one of his twisted games. Clearly, that had been wishful thinking. The only thing his heart did was pump just enough blood to keep him alive.

He was a disgusting leech, draining the life from people left and right. His child would be better off. Everyone would be better off.

Turning on my heels, I stormed toward the elevator, knowing that if I didn’t put space between us now, I was liable to murder him.

If I’d ever done half the shit Tristan did, Clay would have killed me and disposed of my remains a long time ago without a second thought. But because Tristan came from an equally as fucked up family and reveled in the darkness that had blossomed within him, Clay adored him.

As soon as I reached the basement, I hurried down the steps. The scent of piss and death wafted through the air, overwhelming my senses. It didn’t matter how often I’d been down here, I never fully got used to the smell.

We’d gotten a few new girls in last night, their whimpers growing louder and louder the closer I got to them. Opting to ignore them completely, I entered the chamber at the end of the room. I only had a few minutes to spare before Azriel and Vincent showed up for basement duty.

Flicking on the light, I crept to the back of the room, sidestepping an array of random sex machines and things of the sort.

I typed my code in on the panel connected to the wall and waited for the familiar green dot to appear. Nervous energy prickled along my neck, my heart beginning to race with the fear of being caught. I only had one shot to pull this off.

Finally, the green dot revealed itself. I reached for the door handle and jerked it open, practically diving inside the room.

Weapons adorned each wall—guns, knives, batons, whips, tasers, num-chuks.

The list went on and on. Blowing out a breath, I reached for one of the pistols, my gaze skimming over the delicate design.

Checking the magazine to make sure it wasn’t empty, I clicked the safety switch and forced the gun into my waistband, tugging my shirt and jacket over it.

Adrenaline pulsed through my blood in waves. This could end so fucking horribly if I wasn’t careful. But Hazel was worth it. She’d always be worth it.

I hurried back the way I came, making sure everything was the same as it was before I’d entered.

A brunette in one of the cells peered at me through the bars with teary, brown eyes.

I held a finger up to my lips, making it abundantly clear that this was to remain a secret.

She didn’t acknowledge me, but I hadn’t expected her to.

When I got to my room, I sat down on the edge of my bed and lowered my face to my hands. My breathing was erratic and messy, my thoughts clouding my mind.

I might have played the part of the bad boy well, but in reality …

I was fucking terrified. My head was all screwed to hell.

Every part of me had been violated—mentally, physically, theoretically.

Hazel was a fool for loving me, for trusting me.

But her loyalty only made me want her more, and that was both a good thing, and a very fucking bad thing .

She was angry with me now. But she still loved me. I could see it in her eyes, even when she hurled insults at me. It didn’t matter what these people did to her; it didn’t matter what I did to her … She still cared.

A lump formed in my throat as I reached for the weapon that was currently digging into my hip bone. Tugging it free, I held it in the palm of my hand.

I had to put my plan into motion tonight while everyone was sleeping. Well … not everyone, but almost everyone. It was the best chance I had—the best chance Hazel had.

Fuck.

People were going to die tonight. I just hoped it wasn’t me or my girl.