Page 126 of Made for Cyn

“Why?” I ask helplessly.

“Because that was the price, Rain. And you performed perfectly, by the way.”

My hand’s in the air before I can stop myself and her head rears back when I slap her. She grabs her cheek with a wretched smile and I stalk away, grabbing the phone as I go.

“You’re wasting your time,” she calls after me.

Stomping up the stairs, I slam into my room and collapse to the mattress with a bitter laugh. Did I just get fucking played?

Shit.

Staring at the phone, I scramble for something to say, but I’ve got nothing, and finally, I give up and tap out a text. But he doesn’t answer, and I curl into a ball, wishing I’d never fucking dreamed of coming here.

Rain: I can explain

???

The following morning, I follow Iris to her car tiredly, refusing to so much as look at her.

I barely slept thanks to nightmares of John and his demise intermixed with whatever horror Cyn experienced when he saw the photos. I don’t even know what they contained, but he never responded, which means I don’t know what I’m walking into today. But foolishly, I have hope he’ll hear what I have to say.

After Iris pulls into the lot and turns the engine off, she says, “After school, we have to call the cops. Don’t flake out on me.”

I want to tell her to fuck off, but it would be unwise because now I’m stuck behind the lies, and John’s disappearance hangs around my head like a noose.

Nodding, I exit and head inside, searching for Cyn, but he’s nowhere to be found, and I resign myself to waiting until lunch. I’m practically crawling out of my skin by the time it rolls around, but when I enter the cafeteria, he’s not at his table.

I search the mob with a sigh, but I don’t see Jig nor Bastion either, and now I’m worried. Did something happen after I told them about Jagger?

I hope not.

I sit beside Oscar with a roaring headache but pause when he gives me a stern look. “You can’t sit here.”

“What?” I ask, taken aback. I thought we were friends.

“You’ve been excommunicated,” he states, grimacing before looking around furtively.

“Um, what?”

With an impatient look, he says, “You’re out. You’re not under the protection of Cyn, which means anyone seen with you runs the same risk.”

Blankly I nod, but I’m no longer seeing him. Sucking in a breath of air, I rub my forehead as I process his words. So, it’s begun, and although I don’t understand the full ramifications of Oscar’s statement, I know it’s bad.

“Rain,” Oscar says, staring at me expectantly.

With a bitter chuckle, I grab my bag and head toward the doors, blinded by tears I refuse to shed. With nowhere else to go, I step outside and lean against the railing, the bitter chill in the air stinging my cheeks.

There must be something I can do, anything, because this can’t be the end. Besides, I need to warn them, I—

“You should go and never come back.”

Raising my head, I stare into Bastion’s dark eyes and shiver. As the quiet one, I expect him to be short and sweet, but the tenor of his tone sends a chill down my spine.

He’s so full of rage, his eyes are black, and I slide away from him cautiously as I whisper, “Go where?”

He shrugs. “Don’t care. Anywhere but here.”

“You don’t understand. I can explain—”