Page 38 of Forged in Rain

I don’t know if it’s all lies, and I’m going out of my mind with the back and forth. But the guys haven’t done much to make me trust them, and that is what I should be reminding myself.

“Okay, that’s weird and bad news,” he says grimly, “but why the questions?”

Shrugging, I ignore him until he pulls me around and stares at me with a raised brow.

I don’t want to play my cards just yet, so I cast for something to say that will explain away my inquiry, settling on an answer that I know will only further the divide.

But I don’t have much choice.

“Well, you know. The girls and stuff,” I whisper, watching his eyes darken with confusion before they ice over, and he drops my arm.

“Oh, I get it. We’re back to that. No, Rain. We don’t fucking participate in prostitution.”

Raising my chin, I say, “It was just a question.”

“A fucking insulting one,” he says, his jaw ticking.

“Jig, Cyn just threatened me in that car. Am I supposed to feel bad about wondering? I mean, what’s the difference?”

“The difference,” he says, leaning into my face and growling, “is that Cyn doesn’t want you to get hurt, and you’re a fucking bitch for assuming he’d be involved in something so disgusting.”

With that, he stalks away, leaving me bewildered and heart sore. Even though I have the proof, he still made me feel three feet tall for asking about it.

∞∞∞

Apparently, my inquiry made it back to Cyn and Bastion’s ears because they both are so fucking cold I need a sweater just to be in their presence at lunch. I’m not allowed to sit anywhere else, even as I’m ignored so thoroughly that I’m in tears when we head to class after.

Bastion is quiet beside me, which is no surprise, until he growls, “I thought maybe you weren’t so bad, but I was right in the first place.”

Shifting uneasily in my chair, I whisper, “Why am I supposed to believe you’re not bad people when you’ve given me no reason?”

“Oh, we’re bad, all right, but we don’t hurt chicks.”

Sinking in my chair, I stare out the window and contemplate my options before heaving a sigh and taking notes absently.

After class, Bastion takes off, and since it’s my free study period, I escape to the library, spying Oscar at a table when I do.

“Hey,” I say, pulling out a chair across from him.

“Rain,” he says before looking back at his notes.

“What, so we can’t be friends?” I mutter, my stomach sinking at his cool demeanor.

“Look,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on, but the deeper you get with them, the more dangerous you are.”

“I’m trapped,” I say softly, tracing my fingers over a name someone carved in the wood.

Oscar cocks his head to the side, and I see his hesitation before he sighs. “What now?”

“Oscar, if I had to trust anyone, who would it be?”

“Cyn,” he says unequivocally.

“Not you?” I whisper.

Slowly, he shakes his head.

“Why?” I ask.

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