Page 107 of Forged in Rain

“No. No way. I refuse to be stuck with that dick,” I mutter, wiping a stray tear from my eye.

“Then let’s do this.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, I straighten in my seat. She’s given me a lot to consider, and I need time to break it down in my head, but right this very minute, we’re sitting outside a cabin staring at what could be creeper John. Now is not the time.

“So, you’re going to kill him?” I ask, ignoring the tremor in my tone.

“We’re going to see if that’s John and if it is, we’re going to kill him.”

“We?”

“Yes,” she says with a wicked laugh. “Because you’re just as fucked as I am.”

“I don’t want this.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says viciously, wrenching on the door.

I grab her arm, but she shakes me off, and with a frown, I lean back, muttering, “You want this?”

“I want the power to ruin every fucking person who ever thought they could use and abuse me. Let’s go.”

“Wait, don’t we need a plan? Iris?”

She stalks off, and I stare after her with a sinking sensation in my stomach. Once again, I’m thrown off course.

Iris stops halfway to the door and turns back. I can’t see her face, but I’m quite sure she’s glaring at me impatiently. Mourning the loss of the damn phone that I can’t fucking use to call for help, I exit the vehicle quietly. It’s not like I can wait in the damn car with that psycho presumably around here somewhere. I’m fucked. Again.

“What’s the plan?” I hiss when I come abreast of her. She shrugs and pulls out the biggest gun I’ve ever seen, but I’m not given an answer as she stalks to the door and pounds on the wood. Appalled, I step back and aside as the door swings open, but it’s not John standing on the other side. Nope, it’s my dad.

“Uncle Bob?” Iris says, dropping the hand holding the gun to her side.

His brows raise in surprise before I step into the light with narrowed eyes and his face falls.

“Rainy,” he whispers.

∞∞∞

With a miserable glance through the window at Iris waiting inside the cabin, I raise my eyes to my dad. What the fuck is he doing here? Is he involved too?

The crushing weight on my chest is a reminder to stop being so damn naïve and I eye him stonily.

“Rainy,” Dad says softly, bowing his head.

“What are you doing here? Where’s mom? Joey?”

He waves his hand. “They’re still at the beach.”

“The beach,” I snort before shaking my head. “Did you know?”

“I’m sorry. No, not until a few weeks ago.”

With a bitter huff, I turn my head away. “That’s just great. You’re sorry.”

He glances uneasily at the window before saying in a low tone, “I’m trying to fix this. I am.”

“Fix it how? Did you know Pam’s crazy? John’s a fucking creeper?”

“No, no! Pam’s just scared. I’m here to help. I promise.” His dark eyes shine at me, and I slump. The shitty part is I don’t know if I can trust him. I can’t trust anyone, but maybe Cyn.

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