Page 68 of Forged in Rain

“Don’t worry about him. He always gets weird when it comes to his father,” Jig says, but I see my concern mirrored in his eyes.

“What did he do? I mean, why is he in prison?”

“Murder,” Jig says, standing. “I left a toothbrush in the bathroom, and some of Cyn’s clothes are in the drawer. Are you hungry?”

Shaking my head, I watch bemused as he retreats, following Cyn out the door.

After he’s gone, I lay across the bed and stare at the ceiling, worry for my mercurial lover pulsing in my chest. In all reality, I know very little about him, and when he pulls away, it makes that divide all the more unbearable.

Chapter Twelve

Iwake with the dawn, rolling over and rubbing my eyes. Checking the time on my phone, I find a missed text from Cyn, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Night, beauty

I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep because I missed my chance to respond, but I do my best to bring him out of his funk with a smirk.

Good morning, beast

Immediately, bubbles form on the screen, and I wait impatiently for his response, tapping my finger against my leg.

Hmm, I think you like my beast

Rain: I like YOU

Smiling, I shuffle from the bed and into the shower. I slept in Cyn’s shirt last night and the hoodie I never relinquished after he gave it to me yesterday.

But I have no other clothes, and at a minimum, I refuse to wear the same damn dirty underwear three days in a row.

After a shower, I pull on another T-shirt and my jeans, sans underwear, before emerging and making my way excruciatingly slowly to the kitchen.

It’s empty this early in the morning, and wearily, I sit down at the breakfast bar to rest my damn ankle.

I’m tired of the fucking crutches, and it’s only been two days. Beyond that, my ankle hurts like a motherfucker, and I really should be resting it more.

My phone buzzes on the counter, and picking it up, I find a message from an unknown number.

You have something I want. Bring it to me, and I’ll let the other shit slide

Frowning, I study the damn text before giving in. I’d like to ignore everything, but burying my head in the sand is not an option.

Who is this?

Your worst nightmare if you don’t return what isn’t yours

Shaking my head, I text back.I don’t know what you’re talking about

Now is not the time for games, bitch

I really don’t know

It takes a moment before a response comes in.Very well, we’ll play this your way, but it’s not going to be pretty

Please, just tell me what you want

Shit. This is either Jagger or McCafferty, but why not just reveal themselves? Did Iris give out my number too?

Sweating bullets, I wait for a reply, but it never comes, and I’m still sitting at the bar glumly when Jig emerges an hour later.

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