Page 13 of Breaking Boston

Now that she's free, she's ours. She might not know it yet, but she belongs to us and we own her fucking freedom too. We control it. And as far as I'm fucking concerned, her ass isn't free. She'll never be free.She's mine.She's Donovan's. She's ours.And if she tries to run, we'll find her. We always do. And when we do, she'll wish she never left. Because now, she belongs to us in a way she couldneverhave fucking imagined. And we'll make sure she never fucking forgets it.

The three of us are tied to each other in a way that no one else can understand.

As I look up, my body craving Boston more than it ever has, I see her. Huddled under a bridge as she smokes a joint, the aroma of marijuana permeating the air, her soaked blonde hair falls in long strands, hiding her face. But I know it's her.

I stop walking, holding D back, my arm smacking against his solid chest.

"Wha..." His words trail off as he looks where I'm looking, catching the same beautiful, captivating sight that I can't look away from.

"That's her," I say quietly, the excitement and adrenaline rushing through my veins. "Let's go get her."

Donovan nods, his eyes fixed on her. "Yeah, let's bring her back to where she belongs."

We make our way towards Boston, our footsteps echoing through the quiet streets of Lynn. As we approach her, she looks up, her eyes widening in fear and realization as she focuses on our masks. I forgot I had mine on. I'm so used to it now. But it's too late. She's already in our grasp.

"You thought you could run away, huh?" Donovan sneers, grabbing her firmly but gently by the arm. "Not anymore."

Boston struggles, but we overpower her, yanking her up to her feet. I get in front of her—Donovan behind—and we cage her in, burning up from the body heat radiating off of her. Looking into her eyes, I see the pain, shivering as I realize how similar hers is to mine. I keep forgetting that she doesn't know it's me and D behind the masks—the ones who've been watching her for the last five years. She might assume, but we try not to give ourselves away.

She's not ready to know the real us. The boys she once loved were no longer who she used to know. A lot's changed since we've been apart, and when she finds out the truth, she's either going to accept it, or want our heads on a fucking silver platter. She'll seek her revenge until it's either us or her.

Will I be able to take her out before she kills me if it comes to it?

At this moment, no. I wouldn't be able to harm a fucking hair on her head.

I push her against the wet spray paint on the building behind her, pinning my body into hers with my knife to her rosy cheek. Her heart thumps. Mine freezes. She grinned, and it took my breath away. She had no idea that the same blade I had pressed against her cheek was the same blade I used to slaughter a man minutes before... but knowing Boston, she wouldn't have given a fuck anyway.

I stared into her dazzling blue eyes, feeling my heart race and my mind spin.This is it.She's back in our control, where she fucking belongs. But as I looked at her, pinned against the building, I couldn't ignore the sense of guilt creeping in. She didn't deserve this, did she? But she tried to escape, to leave us behind. She had to face the consequences.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," I said, my voice barely a whisper. My grip on the knife tightened as I felt Boston's breath on my neck as she leaned in. She knew it was me, she had to know. But she didn't show any signs of recognition, just a defiance that I couldn't help but admire.

FOUR

THE BLINDFOLD

BOSTON

The cold steel of the blade presses into my cheek, warm blood dripping down it. The smell of death envelopes my senses, wafting off of their clothes like an unfamiliar scent of perfume; they're drenched in it. And it doesn't even bother me.

I don't know who they are, but I have a feeling. I mean, who else would stalk me hot and heavy for the last five years? It started right after Lux and Donovan left, so it has to be them. Right?

I pull out my knife in a swift move that I thought was clever, but the man in front of me is so fast, he yanks it from my grasp before I can put it to his throat.

"Nice try, you little savage, but I'm quicker. And Ialwayswill be."

The man behind me kisses my shoulders, pulling my soaked jacket off so my skin is exposed. I won't stop him. It feels too fucking good.

Alcohol and heroin flood through my system, doing a good job of making me entirely numb.

The man in the glowing mask in front of me, pinning his bulky, muscular body into mine, still holds the bloody knife to my cheek, trying to scare me or something.

But it doesn't work.

I can feel his heavy breath on my neck as he whispers, "It's time for you to pay for what you did, and we're gonna have a little fun." But I have no idea what he's talking about. The alcohol and drugs have clouded my memory, but what could I have possibly done to these two masked men that I can't remember?

As he leans in closer, I can see the anger in his eyes through the eye-holes of the glowing mask.

Despite the numbness, fear begins to creep in. He leans in, lifting the mask so his warm lips connect with my skin, and he brushes them across the side of my neck. I shiver, clinging to the sides of his soaked leather jacket, his tongue tracing a line along my vein. His grip tightens on the knife, and I can feel the sharp edge digging into my skin. The blood continues to trickle down, mixing with the alcohol and drugs pumping through my veins. I close my eyes, relishing the sensation, even though I should be crippled with fear.

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