Page 127 of Forged in Rain

He doesn’t spare me a glance, still fumbling with his pants until I step forward, aiming for his face. Pausing, he looks up and a wide smile crosses his face. “You think you can do it?”

“Yes,” I say, although my hand is shaking so hard, I might not make the first shot. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I shot off his dick instead?

“I don’t. You know why, Rainy dear?” he says, slapping Iris’ ass.

Flinching, I glance at her, but I can’t see her face, only the way her body jerks under his touch before going slack again.

“Because I think you’re a coward. But Iris here, she’s got fire. Don’t you, honey?” he continues.

Iris doesn’t move, and he taps her ass before turning to me with a raised brow. “She may have fire, but she was fucking stupid to think she could get rid of me.”

The gun wavers in my hand and I tip my head to cover my unease.

“You look surprised. Hmm. It would seem that Iris has been keeping secrets. She didn’t tell you?” he says.

My hands are slick with sweat, and I can feel the gun slipping, but I grip it tighter, ignoring the cramp in my fingers. What’s this dick playing at now?

“Well,” he demands, and I flinch.

“Tell me what?”

He smiles his approval and grabs her hair once more, raising her head and turning it in my direction. She opens her mouth with a silent moan as John says, “Tell her.”

But she lolls in his grasp, and when I look at her, I see she’s checked out. There’s no recognition behind her eyes. No pain. Nothing. Iris is gone.

Still, John’s insistent, and he pulls her head back so harshly she cries out before he strokes her cheek, “Tell her.”

Iris blinks back into focus, her eyes filled with so much horror that I whimper before shadows appear and her mask slides back into place. Meeting my gaze, she spits, “That night, before the ridiculous prayer group, I killed him. I thought . . .. Anyway, we fought, and I hit him over the head.”

“What?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes, grimacing. “When we came home. He was gone.”

“I don’t understand. You . . . But Saul and—”

“Jesus, Rainy. Don’t be fucking stupid. I thought I killed him, and when I came home, his fucking body was gone. What was I supposed to do?”

“This whole time? You knew he wasn’t dead? Fuck.” She just stares at me. No remorse. No triumph, not even fucking pain.

“You see?” John says with a smile, fumbling with his pants once more. But I’m past the point of rational anything. I’m tired of the games. I’m tired of his fucking face. Raising my trembling arms, I scream, “Stop.”

The gun wobbles in my grip but John ignores me until I drop the gun to his waist and say, “Maybe I won’t kill you, but I’ll be happy to make you a fucking eunuch.”

Pausing, he studies me carefully before coming to a decision. With an exaggerated sigh, he grabs Iris and pulls her up before pushing her in my direction. “Iris, take the gun.”

She doesn’t hesitate, and my heart falls to my toes when she raises her dark eyes to mine, and I find no recognition there. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t let this fucker live. I can’t.

Aiming beyond her shoulder to the man who started this horror show, I pull the trigger, but my shot goes wide when Iris rushes me. I land on my back with an oomph, staring blankly at the hooks hanging from the ceiling above before Iris is on top of me with a knee in my gut.

“Give me the gun,” she says, grabbing for it.

“Stop,” I huff, waving it around.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and I look into her eyes.

They shine back at me with a determination I don’t understand, but I’m not about to give in. Bucking against her, I half turn to crawl away, but she slams her fist into my head, and I pause, dazed.

She takes the opportunity to crawl up my back, and I twist away, half turning, but John appears over my head and plucks the weapon from my hand.