Page 80 of Jig's Last Dance

“Really? He can’t just meet me somewhere else?” I ask skeptically.

What the fuck is so important about this damn cabin?

“I can’t. This is ridiculous,” I whisper, and she grabs my arm. “You don’t say no to John. The cabin. Saturday.”

My stomach sinks at the demand because if it’s the cabin from the pictures, then I could be walking into a literal horror story. I have a feeling that spot isn’t where those dicks met up to hang out and shoot the shit.

“I lost the address,” I admit, although that may have gone the way of the damn envelope, which is hopefully buried in a dump somewhere.

She rolls her eyes and looks at her fingernails, pulling at a cuticle before murmuring, “It’s near the lake. Tell Rain. She can give you the address.”

“Why? I thought I was supposed to keep her out of it?”

“Because they’re your only hope,” she says, her mouth twisting.

What the hell is going on? I don’t need John’s drama added to mine. I’m chock full as it is. Fuck me.

“What’s going to happen?” I ask softly.

She shrugs. “He doesn’t tell me shit. This is up to you. You can make this go away. Just be smart.”

“How?” I ask, my blood boiling when she shrugs again. “Iris . . .”

“What? I don’t have all the fucking answers. Just remember, trust no one.”

“Yeah,” I grumble.

She stares at me and raises her brow.

“What?” I ask.

“Get out.”

Bitch.

∞∞∞

The shit is piling up. Sal wants me to watch John. John wants me to go to his cabin, which no one knows about unless I tell Rain. But if I include Rain and the guys, what happens then?

I know Sal expects me to perform, and at this point, John is the lesser of two evils, which means I’m stuck asking for directions to the cabin, wherever the fuck that is.

Sending Jig a text, I enter the address he gives me into the GPS. I’m dreading this conversation, and my stomach is tied in literal knots when I pull up to a huge cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Probably down the street from John’s fucking cabin, knowing my luck.

Jig answers the door when I knock. I follow him inside, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen when the biggest, scariest dude I’ve ever seen turns and levels me with his stare.

He has pale blue eyes, thick blond hair, and a deadly expression. This is Cyn’s cousin, and up close, he’s scarier than I imagined. Shit.

“Who’s this?” he asks gruffly, and I stare blankly.

“This is Alice,” Rain says, raising a brow at me.

Snapping out of it, I smile weakly and collapse into a chair.

“Why’s she here?” he grunts.

“Because John’s up to something, and we need to know what,” Cyn mutters.