Page 71 of Made for Cyn

“Territory?” I ask faintly.

Although it’s been alluded to, I’ve been hoping it was some sort of coincidence because I don’t want to acknowledge that Cyn is in a gang, too.

“Yes, Rain,” he says impatiently, “this is his territory, and if anyone comes along and challenges him, he has to fight for it.”

“Why?”

“Because only the strong survive,” he says bitterly.

“Survive what? We’re teenagers, Oscar,” I huff.

He gives me a piteous look, and I raise an annoyed brow. “What?”

“Cynster Callahan isn’t just a teenager. He’s a fucking nightmare. His cousin runs the entire territory where you’re sitting on what I suspect is a bruised ass. These people are dangerous Rain, and when you pointed your doe eyes at Cyn, you called to his beast.”

“I didn’t look at him with doe eyes,” I gasp in outrage, ignoring his comment about my ass. “And if he’s so dangerous, why would I tell him anything?”

“Because if you don’t, and trouble comes this way, he’s going to come looking for you. And then you’re really in for it. It’s how it goes. If they show weakness, someone will come in and steal what’s theirs.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“Because my dad is a fucking enforcer,” he says with a grimace.

“Enforcer?”

“Yes. He’s the guy they send in when they want answers,” he says, looking at me pointedly.

Answers? Oh right. Shit.

“Wow.” I look him over with new eyes, and he laughs bitterly, glancing away.

“If you’re looking for him in me, you’ll never find it. He’s a badass motherfucker, and I’m a pathetic nerd.”

“You’re not a nerd,” I say, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Hey,” Iris calls wearily, standing at the end of the bridge. “You ready?”

Looking her over, I don’t see anything amiss, but there’s a blankness behind her eyes that scares me as I rise and say goodbye to Oscar.

He stares between us anxiously before giving me a knowing look, and I smile but turn away before he can say more. I appreciate that he’s trying to help, but in this, I don’t think it’s right or even a good idea to include Cyn.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I do know if Saul gets pinned with murder, I won’t shed a tear if he goes away. I can’t say the same for Cyn, which is messed up, but the truth. Saul can rot, Cyn . . . I don’t know.

“Everything okay?” I ask as I strap myself into the car.

Her hands tighten on the wheel, but she shrugs and says casually, “Fine.”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes, Rain, it’s fucking fine. Shit, can you back off?”

I shrink away, turning toward the window. My stomach is a roiling mass of shame because I keep sending her in there alone, and I know she must be experiencing a certain amount of horror. I’ve seen it in her eyes. Of course, something is wrong, and I should be doing more to help her, even if it means at the expense of my own comfort.

Resolved, I brood the entire way home where we go our separate ways, and she quietly locks herself in her room.

I turn to my own room with a sigh and squeak when John appears over my shoulder, pushing me inside before closing the door behind him.

Cautiously, I step back, wondering if I should scream, but would he stop or just hurt Iris too? Fuck, but I can’t do this anymore.

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