Page 4 of Forged in Rain

Searching his cerulean depths, I say softly, “When? When you were ignoring me? Or how about when Cyn was fucking Bitch? Or I guess I could have told dick face back there.”

After pointing at Bastion over my shoulder, I drop my hand and smile sadly. Maybe I made shitty choices, but they didn’t exactly give me warm fuzzies about trusting them.

“Enough,” Cyn says, slashing his hand through the air. “What about Jagger?”

“I don’t know. I was as surprised as you when she showed up on his arm.”

I’m not giving him all the details, but I don’t think he has the right to know them. None of them do. I tried to tell Cyn, and he iced me out. That’s his problem.

I have to figure out what happened to John—and by whose hands—and get Jagger off my back about Iris. Maybe if I can accomplish that, I can go back to being a normal teenager. Easy-peasy, take down a crime lord and find a dead body. No problem.

“Why did you tell Jagger that Iris was spreading info anyway?” I mutter with a frown.

I was almost free, and this dick pulled me back in. It’s his fault we’re stuck together, so he can stop with the act because he only has himself to blame.

“Because I was given a job, and she was the job.”

“Oh right, the job,” I say, smiling past the bitter clench of my heart. I guess I needed the reminder that Cyn’s every move when it came to me was about Iris and had nothing to do with feelings.

“That’s right, and now the bitch took it next level,” Bastion snarls.

Looking to the ceiling for calm, I come up empty and swing toward him abruptly. “Call her a bitch one more time. I fucking dare you . . .”

“Or what?” he sneers.

Behind me, Cyn sighs loudly. “Rainbow, knock it off. We’re here because of your fucking cousin and her damn scheming.”

Staring at him incredulously, I run my hands over my face for calm, but nothing is working, and I’m damn tired of the abuse. Yes, Iris is a troublemaker with an ax to grind, but do these dicks not see her pain?

“Actually, we’re here because my skeevy uncle rapes girls,” I bellow, stalking away and into the hall because I just can’t.

I almost gave myself to an equally skeevy dick to spare myself the possibility of rape, and these douches think they can judge me? Ha fucking ha!

“Rain—” Cyn says, stepping into the hall.

“Call me Rainbow one more time,” I snarl, stepping into his face.

His brows slam over his eyes, and he says through clenched teeth, “I put up with your sassy mouth when I knew it would be covering my dick. No more. You don’t talk to me that way.”

“Or what?” I sneer. “You going to hurt me?”

“Jesus,” Jig says from inside the room, and Cyn’s nostrils flare like a bull. Grabbing my arm, he pulls me down the hall. My stomach clenches because I don’t know that he won’t do just that. I don’t know him at all, as it turns out.

“What—” I gasp when he pushes me into a small library and closes the door behind us, but I have no time to say anything before he’s swinging me around and pushing me over the arm of the couch.

From my position, I can easily feel his erection against my ass. Fuck me, but he’s plenty aroused if his thick length is anything to go by.

Suppressing the moan trembling on my tongue, I mutter, “What are you doing?”

“Showing you who’s the fucking boss,” he barks.

“With rape?”

“Beauty, I’ll have you begging for it,” he growls.

My heart clenches painfully in my chest at the nickname because he hasn’t used it since he iced me out, and even though he said it in a moment of passion, it does crazy things to my insides to know it’s still in his vocabulary.

“Really?” I murmur, bucking against him lewdly. “Maybe it’s you who’ll be begging.”

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