Page 32 of Breaking Boston

"Can you dance?" His thick brow raises into an arch, and he rubs his hands together, his demeanor shifting to something intriguing.

I've never danced before, besides in the shower and randomly in my room when I wasn't chained down. But it'sdefinitely not good enough for whatever Remy has in store for me.

"I've never danced before," I tell him, deciding to play it safe.

But it doesn't work how I expected.

"Come with me. I'll teach you everything you need to know." He smirks and licks his lips, spinning on his heel.

I follow behind him, fiddling with the hem of my skirt. I'm nervous for what might happen, but I don't want to show it. Everyone here already gives me strange looks, I don't need any drama coming my way from this.

Once we reached his office, Remy stopped and turned to face me.

"Let's start with the basics," he said, gesturing for me to stand in front of him.

He sits down, pulling me onto his lap right away. His hands hold my hips tightly, and he rocks me back and forth over his cock. Our eyes lock, and he smirks again, bringing a light blush to my cheeks.

"Wind your body, sweet thing. Roll these hips and pop that ass out. Feel the beat inside you. Dance for me."

I tried to focus on his instructions, but his presence was so overwhelming that I couldn't concentrate. It was as if he had some kind of magnetic pull that drew me in, and I found myself getting lost in the rhythm of the music and his movements.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but I couldn't deny the excitement of the unknown.

LUX

Finding Boston's parent's house wasn't hard. We had the address from the beginning. It blended in with all the other close-knit houses lining the street, slightly on a steep incline. It was more rundown than the others, though. That's what gave it away.

Walking down the alley beside the house, Donovan and I mask up, not knowing who's in the house and what to expect. But this has to happen tonight, or we'll lose Boston forever.

My mind raced, and disturbing thoughts clouded it, thoughts about Boston being at the warehouse. As much as I would've loved for her to stay at our apartment, we couldn't trust the characters that would randomly stop by. Selling drugs for Remy had its perks, but it also had its downfalls too, and D and I found that out too many fucking times.

"What's the plan?" Donovan asks as we approach the backdoor after taking a walk around the house, peeking in the windows. "There's fucking kids in there."

"I know. We're gonna have to wait until they're asleep. They don't need to see what we're about to do." I hold my knife in my hand, gripping it so hard that my knuckles turn white.

"I don't like this, Lux," Donovan says, glancing back at the kids playing in the living room. "We can't risk them waking up and seeing us."

"I don't like it either, but we don't have a choice," I reply, my voice strained with tension. "We have to do this quietly."

We crouch in the shadows, waiting for the lights in the house to go out one by one. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the house goes dark, and we make our move.

Slipping through the backdoor, we move silently through the house, searching for Boston's parents. We find them in a small room at the end of the hall, both snoring on the small, full-sized mattress on the floor.

Donovan shuts the door and locks it as I circle the bed, pulling out zip-ties from my backpack. Needles, meth pipes, and an assortment of drugs are scattered around the room, making it obvious that they're in a drug-induced stupor. It was fucking perfect. Them being knocked out cold, allowed me to bind their ankles and wrists, making sure they couldn't go anywhere.

I nod at D and he flips on the light, ready to get this show on the road. The quicker we kill them, the quicker we get back to Boston.

"Wake the fuck up," I yell, gliding the edge of my blade across Sara's cheek.

Her eyes fling open and she looks confused. Donovan hits Dylan with the butt of his gun, waking him up.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want?" he roars, tugging at the restrains.

"The lucky ones who get to take your last fucking breath," I sneer, pressing the blade into Sara's throat, blood seeping from the slice instantly.

She gasps, but lays frozen on the bed as I slide the knife down, leaving slice after slice on her scarred skin. I watch Donovan out of the corner of my eye, working the silencer on his gun. Once ready, he presses the muzzle against Dylan's kneecap, and fires one shot, the sheet soaking with blood immediately.

"Argghh! Take the fucking kids!" he yells, making us stop our torture and look at their bloodied bodies in confusion.

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