Page 53 of Breaking Boston

In my eighteen short years, I've learned that love doesn't exist. Those who say they love you usually want something from you. They're lying to gain control over you. Love doesn't exist, only lust. So what was it that I thought I had with Lux and Donovan if it wasn't love? Lust? Possibly, but I don't have time to sit here and figure it the fuck out.

"Uh, Boston, what's going on here?" Donovan asks, approaching cautiously with Lux beside him.

"Why don't you tell me?" I begin, taking a sip of the cold beer in my other hand. "And let's cut out the fucking lies, aye?"

They share a look with each other, a sudden realization passing between them as they notice the journal-the reason we're here, in this position.

"Boston, w-"

"Shut the fuck up, Lux. Both of you sit down," I scream, pointing the gun at them, my hand never steadier.

They listen, putting their hands up in surrender, guilt clouding their gorgeous eyes. I stare at them, my heart shattering into pieces, while still trying to remain calm to see this through. I take another swig of beer, enjoying the burn from the carbonation as it slid down my throat. Taking a deep breath, I put the beer down and pick up the useless journal, whipping it at them without looking to see where it lands.

"Why?" I ask, my voice cracking. "Why did you fucking do it?"

Lux sighs, shaking his head. "We thought we were helping you. Your parents weren't who you thought they were." He runs his hands through his hair, frustration and shame written all over his beautiful face.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Boston," Donovan says. "Lux is right. Your parents were fucking monsters who preyed on children... including you."

I stand up in a fit of rage, power surging through me as I grip the gun tighter, wanting everything to stop.

"You're lying," I sob, unable to comprehend what they're saying.

"We're not fucking lying, Boston! Your parents were child molesters and child traffickers! They fucking hurt you, they hurt countless other children!" Donovan screams, charging at me. His hand wraps around my throat and he pins me against the cold, balcony door.

I struggle against him, tears blurring my vision as I try to comprehend the truth of their words, his hand tightening around my throat.

"Stop fighting me, Boston! I'm trying to protect you, dammit!"

The gun drops to the ground and I reach for anything to defend myself. Lux grabs Donovan and pulls him off of me, giving me the chance to escape. I ran out of the apartment, stumbling down the stairs and out onto the street.

I need to process this, to make sense of everything. My whole life has been a lie, and the people I trusted most have betrayed me. I feel lost and alone, not knowing where to turn or who to trust. But one thing is for certain, I need to confront my past and find out the truth about my parents. Only then can I truly understand what love and trust mean.

TWENTY-FOUR

THE REVENGE

LUX

"She wasn't supposed to find out this way," I yelled at Donovan as we searched the streets of Lynn, looking for Boston. It wasn't snowing, but, fuck, it was cold. We pulled our hoods over our heads and kept them down as we walked, trying to figure out where she could've gone.

"Trust me, don't you think I fucking know that?" He spits, his tone chilling. "Where the fuck did she go?"

"I'm not sure." I look around, trying to track the hundreds of footprints in the dirty snow. There's no telling which ones are hers, if any.

"We should've told her sooner. We shouldn't have let it get this far." I kick a discarded box in my way, scaring a stray cat that runs down the alley we're walking past.

"There's nothing we can do about it now. We need to focus on finding her." He lights a cigarette, shoving one hand through his dark hair anxiously, both of us trying to think about where she could possibly be.

As we continue our search, the tension between Donovan and me is palpable. We both know that she must be feeling lost and confused right now, and the guilt of keeping the truth from her is weighing heavily on us. The harsh reality of our situationhits me like a punch to the gut—we were fooling ourselves if we thought we could keep this secret forever.

"Do you think she went to the Taylor's?" Donovan asks, flicking the ash from his cigarette and squinting ahead into the bleak, wintry landscape.

"It's worth a shot," I reply, quickening my pace as we head in the direction of the house of horrors we grew up in. The possibility that she might have sought solace in the familiar surroundings of the home fills me with a sense of urgency.

As we approach the house, I catch a glimpse of something familiar through the bare trees. There she is, sitting on the front step, staring out into the distance with tears in her eyes. Relief washes over me as I hurry towards her, wrapping her in a warm embrace.

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