Page 23 of Forged in Rain

“Fuck you,” Cyn says, punching Jig in the face.

Immediately after, he steps back with wide eyes before looking at me with such hate that I cover my mouth, my heart aching as he stalks from the room.

Stunned, I stare at the open door before turning and asking quietly, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jig says gruffly before following Cyn out the door.

Sighing, I drop to the bed and rub my face, both confused and freaked out. Jig just defended me. But why?

I sure hope it’s not because he has feelings for me. I’m not sure I can handle another complication in my life. He’s turning out to be a deep soul with an unexpectedly kind heart hidden under all that bluster, but I don’t squirm around him, and it would be cruel to encourage him when I just don’t feel that way.

And Cyn? How can he be so angry that another guy is holding me when he looks at me with such hate in his eyes?

My thoughts are turned when my phone buzzes by the bed. It’s from Iris, and dread roils in my belly when I read the message.

We need to talk

What about?

In person

Fuck. This is turning out to be the day from hell. I’m not sure I have anything left to give, but clearly, we can’t let what happened earlier go. How did Pam know?Fine, where?

Bridge in an hour?

K

Closing out the phone, I stare at the wall blankly before making my way downstairs. My body aches like I went three rounds with a boxer, and I’m physically trembling by the time I hesitate at the threshold of the room where I find the guys.

They all pause when I enter and scan the room. Jig is sitting by himself before the television while the other two chat from behind it, and I fight down the surge of warmth at the sight because it would be foolish to think anything but that in the end, these dicks are still far more loyal to each other than to me.

I can’t lose sight of that. Ever.

“I’m taking off,” I mutter, receiving three disbelieving stares for my effort.

“No,” Cyn says before turning back to the television.

“I’m not asking,” I say through clenched teeth, still smarting from all the ugly words earlier.

From slut to skanky whore, I’m surprised I haven’t been propositioned in the halls.

“I don’t fucking care,” he mutters without looking at me.

Rolling my eyes, I spin and walk away, marching for the front door. Of course, Cyn catches up with me and blocks my way with a hand on the wood.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

Staring with disbelief at that hand, I swing toward him and say harshly, “You can’t keep me here. I’m doing what you want and pretending to be one of you, but right now, I need to go.”

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

“Because I need some fucking space.”

“Oh, did you need space when Jig was rubbing his dick against your ass?” he sneers.

“No, you jerk. I needed someone to . . . hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. Is that a problem?”

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