Page 70 of Forged in Rain

I don’t know what my presence can do, but if I can soothe Cyn, it’s worth it.

“C’mon, let’s get to school,” he says gruffly.

Chapter Thirteen

School is mundane compared to my swirling thoughts, and Cyn’s mercurial demeanor leaves me unsettled. I can’t help but worry about our fledgling peace and how my drama will affect it.

Not only that. What if one of them gets hurt? I couldn’t bear it. I’m already struggling with my misdeeds, and although John deserved whatever he got, assuming the jerk is dead, I’m still ashamed of my behavior. I should have gone straight to the police.

Now I’m stuck and scared. If I go to the police, what will happen? To me? Iris? To the guys already participating in a criminal freaking enterprise. Fuck.

As usual, everywhere I go at school, I’m met with icy cold hatred by the girls. What I didn’t expect was the respectful awe from the males. They keep their distance but eye me like I’m the Messiah or some shit. It’s weird, but as long as I’m left alone, I leave it be.

In first period, after a searing kiss from Cyn that curls my toes, he leaves me at the door, and I shuffle to my seat in a daze. I’m daydreaming about that kiss and where it will hopefully lead later when Rand drops into the seat beside me.

I have no use for the douche, but his threat from the other day pops into my head when I spy his sour expression. Turning to him, I watch with some satisfaction as he shrinks from me and looks around warily.

It would be nice if it was because he’s afraid of me, but I know this is directly related to Cyn.

Since he’s appropriately cautious, I also know it’s entirely possible this interaction will get back to Cyn if I proceed, but I need to know what Rand was talking about. It can only be in relation to Iris, but since she pulled him into this mess, it’s better to know now than regret it later.

Did she tell him the extent of her plans with John? I hope not.

“What?” I ask, smiling when he shifts uneasily in his chair.

He narrows his eyes, but I merely raise my brows. Dicks like him can’t stand not having the last word. Besides, if he feels backed into a corner, he might spill.

“You think your shit doesn’t stink,” he says, his hands clenched on his desk, “but Cyn will lose interest. He always does, and then your pathetic ass will be left hanging in the wind.”

I ignore the tiny seed of doubt his words bring because it’s not untrue. Cyn, as far as I know, has never been in a relationship. He may lose interest, and I’ll be left on my own. The thought makes my stomach roil because with each day we’re together, I grow impossibly closer to him, and the fallout for my heart wouldn’t be pretty.

“What did you mean the other day?” I ask, watching him closely.

“Huh?” He feigns ignorance, but his shifty eyes give him away.

“Cut the shit. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, well, per your lord and master, I’m not supposed to talk to you. So, fuck off,” he says, pulling his lips back in an unattractive sneer.

This little butt muncher is unreal.

“Well, you can tell me or tell him. Your choice,” I say dryly.

His brows slam over his eyes, and he focuses on me with a scowl. “You little bitch—”

“You’re the one who approached me. How about you give me the fucking information,” I mutter between clenched teeth.

“Fine.” Once again, he glances around carefully, and I sit up in my seat. What now? Shit.

“Iris told me Cyn is the one who knocked her up.”

Blankly, I stare at him as the words bounce around in my head. Is it possible? Yes.

Fuck me.

Shaking my head, I focus on his face, spying the sly smile, and I clench my hand into a fist, burying it in my lap to keep it far away from his face.

“Cut the shit. You implied whatever it is would be damaging to me,” I say.

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