Page 110 of Iris' Lying Eyes
∞∞∞
Later at dinner, I smile woodenly when Bastion looks at me with questions in his eyes. I’m assuming he doesn’t appreciate the distance because his brows drop, but I can’t do this if my heart is breaking.
It’s hard enough to pretend when I know what’s waiting for me beyond this door. I don’t need B reminding me of what I’m losing.
Rain interrupts my thoughts when she leans toward Cyn and says, “What did your gran say?”
Cyn grunts, his customary response, but it must not be what Rain wants to hear because her mouth curves in a humorless smile.
“I’ll get her to like me if it kills me,” she murmurs, and Cyn grabs her chin, pecking her on the lips.
“I like you,” he growls, and her eyes shine.
Beside me, Alice shifts, and I glance her way to see a distant expression on her face. She’s been quiet since the revelation about her mother, which is eating at Jig.
He hasn’t discussed whatever happened when he spoke to his father, but I suspect he wasn’t prepared for what he heard. No one is innocent in this little charade. No one. Even if the fucker merely looked the other way.
After dinner, we convene in the movie room, where Veah picks out a cartoon. She waves it in the air, and Bastion groans while Joey nods in silent agreement and Jig fist pumps the air. “Yes! I love this one.”
His playful mood is all for show. I see the worry behind his eyes every time he looks at Alice. Her coolness is eating at him, and he doesn’t know what to do. I’m hardly in a place to offer dating advice, so I turn away, but I hope they figure it out because this life is too fucking short to be at odds.
“You would,” Bastion says moodily, and Jig flips him the finger.
Rolling his eyes, Bastion joins me on the couch, and I soak in his warmth, closing my eyes as the movie begins. The high-pitched squeals of the characters surround me, and soon, I’m adrift in a dream where Bastion is on top of me, his eyes fierce as he pumps into me wildly.
I writhe beneath him, scratching my hands down his back, and he snarls, grabbing my cheeks, “I’ll never let you go.”
When I open my eyes, I smile because the dream is my reality, and Bastion is thrusting into me with a desperation that makes my heart sing.
“B!” I cry, flying over, and my soul burns at his feral need as he follows.
I did that. Me.
After, he drops against my chest, panting, and I run my fingers over his muscular arms. He’s so strong. So fucking fierce. How do I let this go? Especially when I’m going back to hell.
I’ll never live through it, not after this little slice of heaven.
Bastion rolls over and hugs me to him. With a new vista to explore, I trace the tattoo over his pec, murmuring, “What do they mean?”
He flattens my hand beneath his own and shrugs. “Most are just images I liked.”
“Oh,” I say on a yawn that turns into a squeak when he rolls me over and hovers over me. The intensity of his gaze makes me uneasy, and I exhale when he drops his dark eyes to my arm and traces my ink.
“What do yours mean?” He asks gruffly.
Glancing down, I frown before pointing at the barbed wire that circles my bicep and crosses my arm. “It’s protecting my heart,” I say, pulling his finger down my skin to where a human heart rests in the crook of my elbow, wrapped in wire.
He studies it for a moment before tracing another tattoo, this one on my other arm. The broken halves of a heart surround a smaller version, fully formed and cradled within.
“And this?” He rasps.
“Baby girl,” I say, covering his fingers with mine.
He looks up at me and surges inside. With a cry, I arch against him, the painful rumble of sobs catching in my chest.
Allowing Bastion behind the barbed wire hurts more than I could’ve imagined but it also sets something free. A lump that’s been pressing against my lungs and slowly stealing my air.
Bastion grabs my hands and holds them above my head as he says, “Look at me.”