Page 47 of Forged in Rain

Rolling my eyes, I mutter profanities as I respond.Saul has Iris, and he says he’s going to hurt her if I don’t come there

You’re not going there

I have to! He has Iris!

Impatiently, I stare at the screen, waiting for a response, and jump out of my skin when it rings in my hand, and Cyn’s face fills the screen.

Seriously? Rolling my eyes again because the damn image is the one he supposedly sent me by accident last year, I accept the call.

His sexy smile seers my vision, though, which is why I can’t contain my waspish greeting. “Yes?”

“You’re not going,” he says.

“Cyn, he has my cousin,” I say, blowing out a frustrated breath.

“Yeah, because she’s fucking him,” he bellows.

“Please,” I say, my voice cracking at the end.

“Beauty, what happened earlier?”

“It doesn’t matter. I have to do this,” I say shakily.

“Not until you tell me who fucked you up,” he says in a deadly cold tone.

“We’re wasting time, I can tell you on the way.”

“Do you know what he plans to do to you if you go?”

“No, but I have an idea. That’s why I’m asking you. Please,” I beg, close to tears.

There’s an extended pause while I sniffle over the line and contemplate how I can get a ride to the Burg when he finally says, gruffly, “Fine. But you stay in the car. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I say in a rush, “thank—”

With that, he hangs up on me, and I stare at the phone with a frown before huffing and dropping back on the bed. I hate the distance between Cyn and me, but in this, I am so very grateful because now I don’t have to go alone. My going was never in question, though, because I would never leave Iris to that dick.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV pulls into the drive, and I make my way down the stairs awkwardly with crutches that pinch at my skin. I’m finally at the door, but I stop up short when Pam says from the couch, “Have you seen Iris?”

“Um, no,” I say, ignoring my phone buzzing against my ass.

“That girl is determined to make me gray yet,” she says wearily, standing and facing me.

She’s aged the last week. Her eyes are covered in dark circles, which are accentuated by the low light, and guilt pulses through me once more because although John is a dick and she’s definitely better off, letting her worry like this is cruel.

If there was any other way, I’d be the first to bring it up, but there isn’t. We’re all stuck, and now Jagger, or should I say Jake, is in the fucking mix.

This is all so fucked up.

Looking me over with a frown, she says, “Are you sure you should be going out? Your ankle—”

“Oh, um, yes. I’m fine. I’m just going to go study,” I say faintly.

Her mouth quirks up in a smile, and she moves to answer the door, forestalling Cyn’s arm raised in a fist to knock again. He drops his hand, and she looks between us with a raised brow before saying dryly, “Studying with him, perhaps?”

“Um, yeah. Pam, this is Cyn, my—”

“Boyfriend,” Cyn says, giving her a pretty smile.

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