Page 26 of Forged in Rain

“Somehow, I don’t think people are going to just give up the information.”

“Nope, probably not,” she grumbles, turning her head away.

“Well, we can cross off Cyn, Saul, and Jagger, but who else does that leave?”

“People he knew,” she says simply.

“So, we’re going to investigate his friends? Maybe we should just let the cops figure it out,” I mutter.

“No way. We still don’t know if he’s dead, and we don’t want this to lead back to us. It’s not worth the risk,” she insists.

Staring into her dark eyes, lit up with a passion that I struggle to understand, I sigh and roll off the hood. “Let’s go home. Your mom is already mad at me for coming in past curfew. I feel like a jerk for sneaking out.”

“Fucking curfew,” she grumbles.

Chapter Four

The guys are waiting for me in the driveway the following day, and although I’m not surprised, I am annoyed. I didn’t get this much attention when I was with him, and the actions now are stifling.

It’s just another kick in the face because he doesn’t trust me, and this is my penance. I guess it could be worse. He could be fucking me for more information.

With a sigh, I slide into the vehicle and stare out the window as Bastion pulls away. Cyn sits stiffly beside me, and I refuse to look at him, which is why I jump when he says brusquely, “Anything to report?”

Other than the pictures incriminating Iris and maybe even Pam, not to mention what might include me? Oh, and Iris’ new plan to find the clues that lead back to John? Not much.

“No,” I say firmly, closing my eyes with a yawn.

“Why are you so tired?” he asks silkily. “Up late?”

“Actually, I was,” I say tartly, smirking when his brows lower over his eyes. “Relax, I was up all night bleeding like a pig.”

He eyes me with confusion before his brows fly off his head, and Jig makes a choking noise from the front.

Smiling sweetly, I ask, “Am I supposed to report on that, too?”

“Funny,” he rasps before turning away to stare moodily out the window.

Hiding my victorious smile, I silently sigh into the universe as we approach the school. Education and all that has taken a back seat to my stupid life, which is ironic considering how much I actually like to learn.

The guys exit together, and I follow behind with a frown when another chick gloms onto Cyn, and he doesn’t push her away. Looking beyond the specter that makes me gnash my teeth, I meet Rand’s considering stare and frown.

We didn’t get far in our conversation before Cyn interrupted, but now I’m curious what he meant. What could he possibly know about me that would inspire me to be nice to him?

In reality, I barely know him despite his assertions when I first came that he popped my cherry that night at the beach.

Whatever it is, I suppose I can add it to the list, and he’ll have to get in line.

Jig’s been unusually quiet since they picked me up, and I watch with a pit in my stomach when he splits away and approaches a couple of chicks. The altercation with Cyn yesterday has him subdued, and I miss my quasi friend.

“What happened last night?” Bastion asks, stepping up beside me.

Glancing at him warily, I say quietly, “Jig was just being nice, but . . .”

“But?”

“Cyn punched him.”

“Fuck,” Bastion says.

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