Page 3 of Forged in Rain

Nodding, I round the couch and sit without being invited because this will be a long conversation, and manners be damned.

Cyn follows me around the side but declines to sit, instead copying Bastion’s lean. With a wry twist to my lips, I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t want to be near me. Whatever. I can’t change the past, and I’m dangling by a thread when it comes to my future.

I need to focus on anything but the guy who makes me squirm with just an angry look. Fuck my life.

“Well?” Cyn barks, and I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

Cyn’s gaze drops to my boobs before he looks away with a flash of irritation, and I stare, the vicious hurting side of me wondering if maybe I truly can make him pay as Iris implied not so long ago.

Maybe guys truly do covet what they can’t have. This could be fun.

“What do you want to know?” I ask, stretching my arms against the couch casually and exposing my belly.

Cyn’s eyes darken, and I suppress a shiver of need, looking away to keep my bearings because this little charade won’t work if I’m caught up in it, too.

“Start with Saul. Why him?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I think she was hoping it would be Bastion. Saul was the backup.”

Bastion shifts behind me but remains silent as Cyn stares at me like I’ve grown two heads.

“What?” I ask.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t kill people, Rainbow,” he mutters, and I clench my teeth, wishing I never told him my full name.

“Rainbow?” Jig says behind me.

Ignoring him, I say, “Iris hasn’t exactly told me everything, only bits and pieces, and her story is that Bastion was her first option, and when that went sour, she turned to Saul.”

“Why would Saul care?” Bastion says.

“I don’t think he does.” I shrug. “I don’t even know if he was truly the plan.”

“Then why?” Jig asks.

“Look,” I sigh, standing and pacing away. “I don’t know. She said Bastion was her first choice and even encouraged me to tell you, Cyn, to see if you would do it. When that didn’t work, she pulled Saul in, and he wanted . . .”

Trailing off uncomfortably, I bite back the truth, that this was all about my virginity, and when Iris realized I wasn’t a virgin any longer, she moved on to Jagger.

But Jagger didn’t know about John unless he was lying, which leaves me fucking nowhere.

“Wanted what?” Cyn says, his tone so low I turn to him warily.

His brows are crammed over his eyes, and I collapse against the couch, saying softly, “At first, he wanted Iris as his slave or some shit.”

“And after?”

Jesus, the soft tone he’s using raises the hair on my neck, and shifting uncomfortably, I say, “Me.”

“And so you gave it to him.” His eyes are so cold I feel the chill from here.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I say, my throat thick with shame.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Jig says impatiently, stepping into my view.

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