Page 67 of Made for Cyn

I’ve heard rumors that he jumped a student who mouthed off to him, but I’m not in a position to ask, and I’m both disheartened by his actions and curious.

What makes these boys tick? I don’t know, but I suspect it only touches on the reasons behind their actions. Either way, although it makes my stomach churn to know I’m so easily expendable, I don’t have a choice. If Cyn wants information, I’ll have to play the game. Luckily, he’s been mostly quiet on that front.

Ignoring them all because I don’t fucking care, I stumble, hop and jump through the tires, bars, and rings before me, holding back the painful whimper when I finally reach the other side.

Rand, who’s conveniently waiting for me when I stand upright, still gasping for air, smirks. “Cute. Are you fucking special or something?”

“Fuck off,” I snarl because I’m at the end of my rope, as they say.

I stomp away only to stop in my tracks and stare at the sky as he sneers. “I’ve already had a taste, and if I might say, it was fucking nasty.”

Hoots and hollers greet me, including Jig, whose face is twisted in a cruel smile to my utter dismay, although his eyes show no true enjoyment. But I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about any of them. I’m done.

Swinging around, I slam my hands on my hips and say tartly, “Is that right? Well, if memory serves, your dick was so small, I think I’m still a virgin.”

Everyone drops into stunned silence before the laughter rises again. Rand’s eyes darken and his mouth twists in an angry snarl. “Whatever bitch. You begged me for it.”

“Ha! I begged for you to stick it in farther, but there was nothing more to give!”

“All right, all right. Break it up,” the teacher says behind us. “Ms. Flaherty, to the office with you.”

“What!” I gasp, spinning around, “He—”

She raises her hand and puts it in my face. “Just go.”

With a huff, I walk away, meeting Jig’s eyes. He’s looking at me with a weird expression before I change out of my PE clothes quickly and stalk to the office.

???

Grimly, I stare out the window as Uncle John drives quietly beside me. Not only do I have detention for a week, but they called him, and of course, he rushed to the school to pick me up.

He led me to his car silently with his hand on my back and smarmy assurances that he would deal with the matter. Now, I’m sweating next to him, icy cold fear stiffening my spine.

I have no idea what he’s going to do, and I’m fucking terrified.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as we pull up to the house, and surreptitiously I check the message, finding a text from Iris.

Where are you?

Rain: I got sent home, detention

Iris: Fuck!

I don’t get to respond because John takes the phone from my hand and waves me into the house with a weird-ass smile that makes my lungs seize. Taking a deep breath, I slowly walk toward the front door, noting that my legs are trembling, and I can’t feel my hands.

Frankly, I’m praying that if he’s going to hurt me, it’s with his belt. The alternative is not something I’m sure I can withstand. From the lost and broken look on Iris’ face, I know that this is not something you come back from—clearly—because she’s plotting the dick’s death.

Passing to the stairs with hope, I pause with my hand on the railing when he says, “Come, sit.”

Shit. I turn achingly slowly and enter the living room before sitting down on the couch and hiding my shaking hands under my thighs. He stands over me and stares with a considering look and I resist the urge to cringe, but I guess this is all I have left, my small rebellion, because I know I’m going to do whatever he says.

I’m screwed.

???

Iris busts into my room thirty minutes later, closing the door and locking it before stepping up to the bed. “Are you okay?”

Nodding my head silently, I brush away a tear. “I’m ready.”

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