Page 36 of Forged in Rain

Gasping, I turn to the door, but Cyn scoots across the seat and blocks me in as Bastion locks the door.

With a rude look he ignores, Bastion raises a brow, and I glare before turning back to the window militantly.

Cyn enfolds me in his embrace and says gutturally, “Do I have to chain you to my bed to keep you safe?”

“Safe,” I scoff, stiff as a board. “You don’t care if I’m safe. You just want Jagger off your back, remember?”

He breathes against my neck quietly, causing goosebumps to skate across my skin. Absently, I note Jig shift in the front seat before Cyn says so quietly I’m not sure anyone else can hear, “If you fucking step out of line one more time, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Sucking in a breath, I grip the door handle between my fingers and shudder, closing my eyes when he says, “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whisper, and he releases me. The locks click, and I’m out the door.

Jig catches up to me with a warning look, and I nod because although I’m shaking like a leaf, I know the drill. We present a united front, or it will only be worse.

Jig escorts me to the locker room, leaning against the wall outside the door, and with a weary sigh, I escape behind it before leaning my forehead against the cool wood.

With even deep breaths, I try to calm my racing heart, but it’s no use. I don’t know if Cyn’s words were more than a threat, but for the first time, I understand that I don’t know him at all. I’ve been underestimating how dangerous he is.

But I don’t have time to analyze it now, so I follow the hall and emerge in the changing room to find Iris pacing with a frown.

She grabs my arm before I can speak and pulls me toward the showers and into one of the stalls.

Bewildered, I watch her step into the next and turn on the water before closing us in the original and leaning in toward me.

“What are you doing?”

“Sh,” she says, placing her finger over her lips.

Nodding, I wait for what I don’t know, and I’m just about to ask what’s going on when a shoe scuffing against the linoleum sounds outside the stall.

With wide eyes, I stare at her as her brows lower, and she turns to peek out the curtain.

Whatever she finds must be okay because she relaxes and whispers, “I spoke to my mom.”

“Okay. Why the weird shit?” I ask, waving around us.

“Because Rain, this is deeper than I thought.”

“How so?” I ask, clenching my hand because I’m not sure I can take any more shit.

She turns her wide luminous eye to mine, and my stomach clenches when I see her pulse throbbing in her neck. “She said that John left a letter.”

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah, she found it that day when the cops came by. She was canceling the missing person’s report.”

“What did it say? How is this even possible?”

“It said he was ashamed of himself over our affair,” she spits, her mouth screwed up in rage. “And he left rather than tell her.”

“Do you think that’s true?” I hope the answer is no because if he’s not dead, he could come back at any time. Thoughts of which send a chill through me because the man is a fucking psychopath. What would he do to her? To me?

“I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like something he would do. He insisted we would go down together if it came to that.”

“What do we do now?” I ask, biting back a scream.

With every twist and turn, this mess only gets more damn complicated.

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