Page 6 of Forged in Rain

Glancing between them, I ignore the barrel of hurt squeezing my lungs and say, “So, what? I’m one of the guys?”

Cyn glances at me in the rearview mirror, his mouth a firm line. “Until I can get rid of your skanky ass, yes.”

Hmm. Sitting back, I contemplate his statement and ignore his brutal slurs because in this, maybe there’s something I can work with. And if nothing else, I’ll torture the shit out of Cyn while I’m at it.

∞∞∞

The Point is just what you would picture, a clearing overlooking the town surrounded by trees and party-goers. Cyn exits the vehicle with a curse, and Bastion and Jig follow. Soon I’m surrounded by a tower of strength as they huddle up.

Confused, I glance between them until Cyn gives me an impatient glare, and I, too, lean into their bro hug.

“You know what to do. Find the fucker so we can get the dirt,” Cyn says, avoiding my wide-eyed stare.

I guess he really meant it when he said I was one of them because now I’m to be included in their criminal activities. How do I feel about this? Strangely, there’s a kernel of excitement at the thought, which I push away as insane, even as my skin buzzes.

“Rainbow, you can—” Cyn starts to say.

“She can distract him, lead him off, eh?” Jig suggests with a twinkle in his eye.

Cyn’s brows drop over his eyes, but when I think he’s going to say no, he surprises me and nods. Even though I should expect it, I’m still disappointed because I want him to be jealous of me with another dude.

At least, this was his reasoning behind quasi dating me before. He wanted me so badly he couldn’t stand the thought of me with other guys. I guess it was another construct to suck me in, and, well, it worked beautifully.

“Fine,” Cyn growls, looking up at me with icy eyes. “Get him into the trees, and we’ll do the rest.”

Searching his gaze for something, anything, I come away empty, and even though I shouldn’t want any part of this, I nod anyway because I’m determined to show this jerk—all these jerks—that I’m no shrinking violet. They’ve met their match even if they haven’t figured it out yet.

“Who’s my target?” I ask, a glimmer of satisfaction riding through me when he frowns. Did he expect me to refuse?

“Jig will let you know,” Cyn says, breaking away from our group and stalking off ahead of us.

Bemused, I follow as Bastion huffs behind me and mutters to Jig, “What are you up to?”

“Just making it right,” Jig says cheerfully.

“Yeah, except it’s not,” Bastion growls.

“You sure, bro?”

Tuning them out, I focus on the group of students getting shit-faced before me, purposely avoiding looking anywhere near where Cyn heads because I have no desire to see Shelby or watch as he sucks her up.

Nope, I’m good on that front.

The last time I was around my peers, I was excommunicated, basically left unprotected by Cyn, which left me open to taunts and physical violence by them, eager to show their loyalty to their king.

Now they view me with confusion as I enter the clearing with the very same dicks, and if I weren’t wary of the whole ordeal, I’d find their shock amusing.

Instead, I ignore that too because these shits are stupid sheep with serious boundary issues.

“What’s she doing here?” Shelby exclaims, but other than a small smile, I ignore her as Jig pulls me toward the fire and hands me a bottle of booze.

Taking a healthy drink, I pass it back to him, and he puts his arm around my shoulder, whispering in my ear, “Don’t look, but he’s across the fire with red dreadlocks and a nose ring.”

Nodding, I take a few more shots of the alcohol, which burns all the way down before parting ways with Jig and sitting down on a log before the fire.

My mark does indeed have red dreads, fire-engine red dye that makes his hair glow. He’s on the short side with a wide mouth and squinty eyes. He’s not cute, but he’s not ugly, just sort of there.

I was hoping for something a little more worthy of jealousy, but whatever. I’ll make do.

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