Page 128 of Forged in Rain

Holding back a sob, I drop to the dirt and close my eyes. Why the fuck did I tell Iris? I’m fucked.

John chuckles, but his mirth fades when Iris says, “Let her go.”

“What?” he says, his brows slamming over his pale eyes.

Dully, I watch as he walks away, his shoes shining in the light of the sun.

“I said, let her go,” she says. Tipping my head to the side, I spy her mouth form a hard line.

“You don’t tell me what to fucking do,” he growls.

She merely raises a brow. “You wanted me. You got me. Let her go.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because she’s a complication. What are you going to do? Kill her? You want the cops on your ass?”

“Maybe they’ll be on your ass,” he barks.

Her lips curl in a sneer and she steps into him, rubbing her body against his. “You wanted me. I’m here. Let her fucking go.”

Bile rises in my throat, and I can’t stop the wave that pours from my lips onto the ground. This is so fucked up.

“Or what? Need I remind you that I have the power to fuck up your world?” he snaps, grabbing her hair.

“You already have.”

He glances down at me, where I’m scooching backward on my hands and knees, before saying, “I hold that boy’s life in the palm of my hands.”

She closes her eyes before bowing her head. “I know. But you don’t need her. Don’t you think it’ll be suspicious if we both go missing after Mom filed a missing person report on you?”

“Did she?” He chuckles, grabbing her ass.

Inching backward, I pause when he looks at me one more time and shrugs. “Fine. Where’s the box?”

“When we leave,” she says.

His brows drop over his eyes, and I flinch when he says, “I’m not asking.”

“Whatever. You can punish me later,” she sneers, and he shakes his head.

“Fucking nuisance,” he grumbles.

With that, he stalks toward the door, and I stare after him, bewildered, until Iris goes to follow.

“Iris, no,” I say, my heart in my throat.

She stops, staring at the door, and says as though we’re discussing the weather, “You’re free, Rainy. Just go.”

“But—”

“Go,” she says harshly and steps out the door.

I’m still sitting on the ground when I hear the low rumble of the car driving away, and finally, I shake out of my stupor.

I can’t believe what just happened, but I don’t have time to process it. I’ll dissect the shit out of it later, though.

Rolling to my knees, I wince when fire shoots up my right ankle, but I don’t have time for that either. I rush down the corridor, passing stalls to my right and left, their doors flung open. I slow to a stop when I reach the end and stare at the dirt floor.

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