Page 56 of Forged in Rain

“Fuck,” Hate says, pushing me away. I rear back and right myself, and I’m shocked when Cyn snarls. “Don’t fucking touch her again!”

“Or what? You think you can take me, cuz?” Hate sneers.

Cyn steps into him with a dark look in his eyes. “You wanna find out?”

Bewildered, I watch them square off, a tiny kernel of relief pumping through me that Cyn’s defending me, but it fades in the face of their standoff because Hate is a badass mofo.

“Wait,” I say, standing to my feet awkwardly, but Jig grabs me around the waist and sets me aside.

“I’m tired of your fucking attitude,” Hate barks, and Cyn smiles.

“I don’t have a fucking attitude, and if you want my fucking loyalty, you’ll back the fuck off.”

Hate pauses and studies Cyn before sighing and muttering something along the lines of, “Pussy must be made of gold.”

There’s an awkward pause where I stare at him incredulously before Cyn growls and Jig steps between the two of them once more.

Hoping to head off disaster, I say into the breach, “Iris saw John burying money in their backyard.”

Iris scowls, but I ignore her as Cyn and Hate turn toward me with twin expressions of suspicion, although I’m sure for very different reasons.

Shrinking under Cyn’s gaze, Iris says, “You’re ruining everything.”

I raise my chin. “Oh, what’s that?” I demand, stepping into her face. “Because I’m starting to think you don’t care about whether I get hurt. Are you willing to let me die?”

“What? No,” she whispers.

“Why is Jagger so interested?” I ask harshly.

Flinching, she says, “I don’t know.”

“Really?” I sneer, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Me? You’ve been feeding them my shit since you got here!” she screams.

“Yeah, but only what you wanted. Right? How long have you been playing me?”

Her jaw drops, and she looks me over with a calculating expression.

Turning away, I rub my aching chest and say, “I’m done. I don’t fucking care. The next time my parents call. I’m out. You’re on your own.”

Cyn growls beside me, and when I look at him, I suck in a breath at the intensity shining from his eyes, but Iris speaks, and it all fades to horror.

“You can’t leave,” she says flatly.

“Why?”

“Because Jagger thinks you stole the money.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I say, staggering back.

“He has Cyn watching you because you have the money, Rain.”

“I do not,” I exclaim.

“No?” She cocks her head to the side. “You’re the one who made John disappear. You stole the money, and now Jagger wants it back.”

“No, you . . .”

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