Page 11 of Forged in Rain

“Not really.” I sigh because, with Iris, I’m always left guessing. She’s so fucking mysterious these days. It’s like playing a giant game of chess, and I’m pretty sure I’m the pawn in this equation.

“Is that a yes or a no?” he demands, and I raise my gaze to glare at him in the mirror.

He just raises a brow, and I frown before looking back out the window. “She seemed surprised by Jagger’s order. Shocked, actually.”

“Hmm. What else?”

Curling my lip because it annoys me when he can tell I’m holding back, I say harshly, “She doesn’t know what happened to John.”

“So? I’m sure Saul didn’t give her the details,” he sneers.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Saul did it.”

“Why?” Jig asks, cocking his head to the side.

Glancing at my lap, I mutter, “I have a feeling he was in it for my virginity and dropped it when it was no longer an option.”

The silence is icy in the vehicle, and refusing to look at any of them, I wring my hands in my lap, visions of his disgusting hands touching my body dancing through my head. I’m not sure if I should be grateful I was so out of it I don’t remember or disturbed. Either way, it’s a specter that joins John in my nightmares.

“He must have been mighty disappointed when he fucked you then,” Cyn says dryly, but his voice is rough.

“Indeed,” I whisper, taking the insult as intended because apparently, I suck in bed, too. With the way everyone was pursuing me for my cherry, you’d think it was a fucking unicorn.

When I don’t react, we all lapse into silence until we pull into the lot, and I stare at all my enemies. These dicks fell in line quickly enough at Cyn’s bequest, and now I’m going to have to deal with their fucking treacherous faces again. Only this time, I’ll have to ignore how much I hate them.

“You need to lift the ban on Iris,” I say absently, watching her check her phone from where she’s leaning against a wall by herself.

The others give her a wide berth and dirty glares, but she’s immune, engrossed in whatever trouble she’s probably concocting.

“No,” Cyn says.

“Yes. If I’m supposed to figure out what’s going on, I have to be with her, and I can’t do that if I’m not supposed to talk to her.”

“You’ll stay away from Saul,” he growls. “My people don’t associate with scum.”

“Not a problem,” I mutter, opening the door.

“I’m serious,” he barks, turning to me with a glare.

“So am I. Despite what you think in that icy brain of yours, I don’t like Saul. He makes my skin crawl.”

“Then why did you fuck him?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t,” I say through my own clenched teeth.

“Pictures don’t lie, Rainbow.”

“Show me.”

I’m tired of the back and forth, considering I don’t even know what he saw. Besides, I’ve been crawling out of my skin with thoughts of what it might have been.

This won’t make me feel better, but at least it will be one less thing that weighs on my chest like a ten-pound fucking anvil.

Cyn scowls but pulls up his text messages before passing me the phone. I stare at the image silently until the shapes come into focus. It’s a single picture of me staring at the wall with a weird smile on my face while Saul looms above me. I can’t see if he’s violating me; I can only see my naked torso, but it’s enough to make the bile surge in my throat.

Iris said I was clothed. She also said nothing happened, but are they both lies?

Glancing up at Iris, who’s still standing next to the door with a scowl, I drop my eyes to the phone blindly before dropping it and pushing the door open. The door swings violently on its hinges as I make a beeline for her, which is easy enough because those around her are standing back as though she’s diseased.

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