Page 122 of Made for Cyn
The fact that they haven’t come back is weird but a relief because now I don’t have to worry about ghosting them to meet Iris.
As much as I don’t want to do this, I can’t let Iris do it alone, whatever it is. I just hope the plan doesn’t include Saul, even though I know it’s a possibility. After all, she’s already made a down fucking payment.
Technically, I don’t know where I am in relation to the bridge, so I have to search it out on the phone while watching the time tick down. I have less than an hour to figure out how to get to the bridge since I don’t exactly have a car.
Per the map, it’s three miles away, and with a fatalistic shrug, I resolve to walk. It’ll take me a good hour, but Iris will just have to wait if I’m late.
It’s cold out, the early December air brisk, but after I’ve gone a good mile, the heat of my exertion takes over, and I no longer have to hunch into my coat. I’m wearing Cyn’s shirt and my sensible flats, which are no longer sensible now that I’m walking, but I don’t have much choice, so I keep going.
I’ve turned off my phone, which I know will earn me grief, but at this point, this is the least of my transgressions. But Cyn’s warnings dance in my head as I stare at the ground miserably.
If I do this, whatever it is, I can kiss whatever Cyn might be feeling toward me goodbye. I was warned, but haven’t I known this was coming all along? Even if I didn’t sleep with Saul, I let him touch me, and I can’t imagine Cyn will ever get past it. This is even worse than confessing the dirty deeds John got up to.
There are many things I wish for as I walk toward my doom but nothing more than that I could take back that night with Saul. Unfortunately, I can’t go back, only forward, and I have to focus on John because Cyn is about to be nothing more than wishful thinking.
Iris is sitting on the hood of her car when I arrive and rather impatiently if her crossed arms and frown are anything to go by, but whatever, I can only walk so fast.
“You’re late,” she snarls, and I shrug.
She narrows her eyes but doesn’t comment as she slides into the driver’s seat, and I join her on the other side.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, staring blindly out the window.
It’s a strange thing to be contemplating murder, much less carrying it out, but I guess I’ve gotten past the absurdity and moved on to grimly resigned. He’s an evil piece of shit, but what will be the cost for me, for Iris, if we carry this out?
I don’t know, and I can only hope whatever we’re about to do isn’t all for naught because, for all I know, Cyn is taking care of our little problem as we speak.
“We’re going to a party where there are lots of witnesses.”
“And your mom?”
“She left this morning for a week-long stay in Indiana. She’s in the clear.”
“What about the debt?” My stomach roils, but I ignore it as she says, bitterly, “The debt is paid.”
“How?” I whisper. Although I knew in my heart refusing to move forward with Saul was the right decision, it doesn’t mean I’m not ashamed to have left Iris holding the bag.
“Don’t worry about it. The less you know, the better,” she mutters.
After that, we lapse into silence while I pray that this ends without further hurt, and she broods quietly beside me.
When we pull up to a home I’ve never seen before, I glance at her curiously, and she gives me an impatient look. “We can’t go to Saul’s. They’re hardly going to want to be questioned by the cops about our whereabouts.”
“Right,” I say, following behind her numbly.
The home is smack dab in a middle-class neighborhood, with children’s toys in the yard and a sweet, tufted set of chairs on the porch.
Inside, high school students mingle in the tamest party I’ve been exposed to since I came here. Curiously, I notice everyone is dressed far more subdued than I would expect, and Hate’s rude words from last night dance through my head. I guess I really was headed to a church function after all.
“Iris, thanks for coming. This is your cousin?”
A tiny girl with huge glasses covering her face approaches, dressed in a long skirt and button-down shirt. Her long, dark hair is pulled back in a headband, and for a moment, I’m dizzy with the thought that she’s me before I left the compound.
She’s pretty and has kind dark eyes, but she’s hiding behind her baggy clothes and dull colors. Was I stifling myself just the same?
Frankly, as I stare at her with a bewildered smile, I’m caught between who I was before, the innocent girl with a shy smile, and the girl I am now, hiding out at a lame-ass party to cover for her uncle’s murder.
It’s a complete mindfuck.