Page 42 of Made for Cyn

“Please.” I smile through clenched teeth.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I-I think I’m in trouble.”

“Then you need to tell Cyn,” he says firmly.

“What? You told me to stay away. Now I’m supposed to tell him?”

“Yes, Rain. They’re all bad characters, but at least Cyn is our bad guy. He can protect you.”

One of us. This is basically what Cyn said the other night, but what does that mean? Who’s us? And who are them?

Mulling over his words, I say quietly, “I’ll think about it. But can you please tell me about Razor?”

Sighing again, Oscar grabs his sandwich and takes a bite with a pointed look. Grabbing up my own, I eat it absently and avoid looking at Cyn’s table.

“All I know is he’s deep into a gang. Drugs and shit. But this isn’t some teenage thug shit. He works for bad dudes.”

I’m not surprised by the information, but my stomach sinks anyway, and nodding miserably, I turn to my sandwich with a sigh. Once again, I wonder just what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

I’m pretty sure all this drama is not part of a normal teenage life, so how the hell did I end up here?

Iris sits beside me without a word, and I stiffen as she slurps on a soda. Of course, our conversation ends with her arrival, leaving me with more questions and the horrible notion that Iris is in deep shit, and she’s dragging me down with her.

When Natasha joins us, it’s to an awkwardly silent table, and she looks between us with curiosity before chatting with Oscar.

“I’m sorry,” Iris says quietly beside me.

Taking a deep breath, I sag a little but nod. “That guy is bad news, Iris.”

“He’s no worse than Cyn, and you’ve been sniffing after him since we got here,” she says defensively.

“Maybe so, but Saul threatened me.” I ignore the fact that Cyn did the same thing the night I met him because I know Saul meant what he said. The jury’s still out on Cyn, though.

She chuffs and says rudely, “Yeah, well, has it occurred to you that maybe Cyn is using you to get to me?”

Shit. Clenching my fist under the table, I meet her dark gaze. “Meaning what?”

“Maybe he’s not interested in you at all. Maybe he’s using you to get to me.”

“For what?” I ask through gritted teeth. Now she’s just being mean.

“You weren’t here. We fucked a while ago, but I decided I wanted Bastion, and well, you know the rest,” she says sullenly.

My eyes fly to Cyn, who is huddled up to Bastion as they talk, his brows creased over his brilliant eyes. A new girl hangs on his arm, looking around with a triumphant smirk before her friend catches her attention, and she laughs loudly.

Was this all about Iris? Did he make up a story about her to keep tabs on her?

But why let Bastion be with her then? Shit, I’m confused, and dammit, my heart hurts.

Turning away from Iris grimly, I eat my lunch in silence, brooding about her statement all the while. With the warning bell, I escape, laughing at my own foolishness because I allowed myself to think I was unique, even in the face of Cyn’s ridiculous behavior.

Now my stomach feels like a bomb detonated inside it, and I’m dangerously close to tears.

How stupid am I?

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