Page 77 of Forged in Rain

With that, he rises, and his men surround him as he walks achingly slowly out the door. Once he’s gone, I stare at the wall and contemplate this newest turn of events. There’s no way Pam will just roll over and give me information. So, what now?

Have I just delayed the inevitable?

∞∞∞

We’re halfway home when I turn to Hate abruptly. “Did you know what he was going to say?”

He shrugs, and I grind my teeth. “Throw me a damn bone here. What’s going on, Hate? Are you team Cue or McCafferty?”

“I’m team Me,” he says harshly, “and you’d do well to remember that.”

“And Cyn?”

His brow twitches, but he doesn’t answer, and I lose my shit. I’m still shaky from thinking I was going to die, and his fucking noncommittal responses are not appreciated. With a huff, I slam my hand against the dash and then whimper when pain shoots up my palm.

He raises a brow, and gritting my teeth, I mutter, “Look, I’m stuck. I don’t want to do this, but I know I have to. I’m fucking scared, and I know that you’re a fucking machine, but could you just bend a little?”

He grunts, his fists tight on the wheel before he sighs. “We pick the team that’s going to win.”

“Which is who?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“And Cyn?”

He glares at me before turning back to the road. “I have a feeling he’s team Rain.”

My heart blooms with warmth, and I turn away to hide my smile, which fades under the reality of this fucked-up situation.

“He’s going to be really angry,” I mutter.

“I sent him on an errand. If his fucking friends can keep their mouths shut, he’ll never know.”

“You clearly don’t know them very well. Besides, I can’t not tell him about what just happened.”

“Why?” he asks, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

“Because I won’t lie to him,” I say, raising my chin at his incredulous look.

“Look—”

“No, you look. I won’t lie to him—ever.”

He glances at me with raised brows, the ferocity of my tone finally penetrating his thick skull, and grudgingly he says, “Fine.”

We pull into town, and he sends a message on his phone before turning south to, I presume, Cyn’s real home.

My suspicions are confirmed when he pulls up to the house, but before I can exit, Jig is coming around the corner with wide eyes, which go impossibly wider when he spies me in the vehicle before they narrow and ice.

Great. Now I’m going to catch hell for taking off again. I can’t win.

Jig stalks around the car, wrenching the door open, and the entire vehicle shakes under his vehemence. I shrink away, but he grabs my arm. “Do you know what you did?”

“Jig,” I whisper. I’ve never been afraid of Jig, but the feral look on his face takes me aback, and I flinch away when he gets in my face.

“Do you know what you did?”

“Jig,” Hate growls, but Jig ignores him, pulling me from the vehicle none too gently.

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