Page 98 of Forged in Rain

Rain: In person

Hate: Where?

Rain: Meet me at the bridge at midnight

By the time midnight rolls around, I’m fighting back sleep. You’d think I’d be a bundle of nerves, but knowing I’ve set a course has eased something inside of me that was boiling.

I don’t know what will happen, but I know I won’t be able to live with myself if I do this any other way. This gives me peace in an otherwise fucked-up situation.

My walk to the bridge is quiet. Most people have long past gone to bed. But I enjoy it because it may be the last I have for a while. I still can’t believe Pam spilled the beans, but it just goes to show how much ego she has to assume we’re that afraid.

And maybe last year I would have been, but I’ve now faced down more than I thought possible. I’m stronger than I was and more determined than ever.

She doesn’t know where John is either, and the fact that he’s responsible for the mess we’re in makes me wish he really was dead. Where is he? And what the fuck is he waiting for?

Her little scheme doesn’t solve that problem, which means I’m still at square one with the dick. But I have to stop Pam because she’s the greater threat right now and hope that John, wherever the fuck he is, isn’t gunning for me.

I just hope I’m making the right decision, although she made it easy. I’m not plotting to kill another man, and I won’t stand by and let it happen, either.

I’ve got a truckload of guilt weighing on my shoulders as it is.

Hate’s waiting for me when I arrive, leaning against his vehicle and smoking a cigarette. When I approach, he throws it to the ground and opens his door.

I open my mouth to protest, but he says, “Not here.”

He drives us across town, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when we pull up to the cabin where the guys have brought me so many times.

I glance at him curiously, but he ignores me as he puts the car in park and exits. Following behind him, I’m disappointed to find it empty as I sit down at the kitchen table, and he follows suit across from me.

“Well,” he says gruffly.

“I want out.”

“What?”

“You talk to him, tell him. I want out. My cousin, my brother, and the guys too, Neveah.”

Hate cocks his head to the side, something passing over his eyes before he averts his face. “You’re not in a position to negotiate.”

“No? I think I am. Why else would he be sending in a teenage girl to get information? He must be pretty desperate.”

Hate sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Fuck. Another crazy bitch. Fine. Does Cyn know about this?”

Shaking my head in the negative, I watch, bemused, as he barks out a laugh and pushes back from the table.

Once he’s gone, I give in to the exhaustion and lay my head on the hardwood with a sigh. Soon, I’m dozing, delicious dreams of Cyn dancing through my dreams when I’m roused by shuffling behind me.

Warm hands encircle my shoulders, and I stiffen, only to gasp when Cyn’s rough voice says, “Sh.”

“Cyn,” I breathe, jumping into his arms.

“Beauty,” he mutters, holding me close.

Burying my face in his chest, I bite back a sob and clutch him tightly, praying I never have to let him go.

“Cyn—”

“Sh,” he says again, carrying me down the hall.

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