Page 108 of Made for Cyn
I suppress a full-body shiver at his dangerous lilt and nod, avoiding his eyes. “Yes.”
“Fuck. The bitch is fucking trouble,” Bastion swears, and I meet his eyes in the mirror before looking away from the hate and distrust staring back at me.
Of course, he has cause, and he knows it, but I shrink in the face of it because I’m not the person Cyn believes me to be. I’m not the person I thought I was.
“Did you fuck him?” Cyn growls.
“What?” I gasp, turning to Cyn in shock that he could even ask me such a thing.
“Did. You. Fuck. Him?” he says through clenched teeth.
“No!” I move away from him, but I have nowhere to go in the backseat.
He grabs my arm and pulls me back around. “Rain!”
“No,” I say, shoving him back. “You’ve slept with every bitch around us while I had to watch. And still, you would accuse me of this! Why? You fucking . . . arse badger!”
“Rain, stop,” he says gruffly, shaking me. “What am I supposed to think when you keep going with Iris to the fucking Burg, to Saul?”
“Maybe I don’t want my cousin to go alone?” I mutter, refusing to look him in the eye.
“If Iris chooses to go to fucking Saul, that’s on her. No more. If you go back there with her, we’re fucking done. You’re mine. You don’t go party with my fucking enemy. You don’t talk to him. You don’t fucking talk to Iris about him. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good, and beauty?”
Looking at him, I cringe from the burn in his eyes as he says softly, “If I find out you’re lying, I’ll fucking kill him.”
Shivering, I nod and drop my head because this is the reminder I need that this will never work. Before this goes too far and more people get hurt, I need to get out, but maybe I can give Cyn a parting gift, something he’ll have even if he never knows it’s my last wish.
“I overheard him—Saul—talking to someone about you, about your cousin.”
His eyes sharpen. “What?”
“They were talking about you. About hurting you.” I glance up when Bastion swears from the front seat, and Jig turns toward me with wide eyes.
“What did they say?” Jig says with a frown, and I tell them all of what I heard.
After, I find myself deposited at my house and left on the curb as they presumably make plans.
Cyn’s parting words dance through my head as they pull away. “Stay here. Do not turn your phone off. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
That’s it. Nothing more, not a hug, not a kiss, not a sexy smirk.
With doom barreling down on me, I head inside, hiding away in my room until the morning.
Chapter Seventeen
I don’t see the guys the following day, and I worry about over it the entire week when they don’t return, brooding as Iris goes about her business around me, her mercurial moods growing worse and worse.
We’ve been given a reprieve because Pam is home for the holidays, and we celebrate thanksgiving quietly, with John in an unusually chipper mood.
Over the long weekend, I consider texting Cyn, but I know I have to end this before it ends brutally. I just don’t know how. Maybe he’s done it for me. I don’t know because I haven’t heard from him and half of me is worried he’s dead, and I’ll never know.
After all, who’s going to inform me?
On Saturday, I receive a message, but it’s not from Cyn. It’s from Jig.