Page 38 of Iris' Lying Eyes

Staring at him blankly, I pull away when he loosens his hold and say, “When I was fifteen, I got pregnant. Mom found out. It was too late to have an abortion, so when she was born, they took her away from me. I haven’t seen her since.”

Bastion drops my arms, his hands still in midair as he says, “Iris . . .”

Brushing past him, I stop at the door and whisper, “She was yours. Is that real enough for you?”

Chapter Nine

Back before, well, everything, I was a normal teenager. I got good grades. I had friends. I dated and had fun.

It was the best time of my life, and I wish I had appreciated it more. But when John started his skeevy shit, I started to die inside.

Little by little, piece by piece, so slowly you wouldn’t notice, but I did.

The first time I fooled around with Bastion, I was still clinging to the hope that somehow everything would stop, and I could be the person I was before.

It wasn’t serious. Bastion was fun and hot, even before he grew into the beast he is today.

We fucked for a while, whenever we were alone. It was the only time I felt truly free, and it’s when I started to have feelings for him.

But he was wild, hanging out with Cyn and Jig, and not the least interested in a relationship. Frankly, I suspect I wasn’t the only one he was diddling, which I accepted because even then, I knew I didn’t deserve more.

After all, I was hardly monogamous when my stepdad was assaulting me at home.

Eventually, I realized I was pregnant, and I agonized over what to do until it was too fucking late. I think if John had been in charge, I would’ve been forced to terminate regardless of how far along I was.

But my mom still had some piece of her soul left then and declared I would give it up for adoption.

The entire time I carried that tiny little being, I wondered whose it was—John’s? Or Bastion’s?

With every day that my belly grew, I fought the hate that came with it, even as I loved him or her just as much.

The summer she was born, John convinced my mom I was better off at the cabin. I gave birth to my daughter in a tiny, local hospital under an assumed name.

She was perfect. Her dark hair was stuck to her head, flying every which way. Her rosebud mouth was pursed in a frown.

I know it’s stupid, but the moment I saw her, I knew she was Bastion’s, and the hate I fought melted into a love that burned my lungs.

But before I could do more than kiss her soft cheek, she was taken from my arms and theI love youI wanted to say, shriveled on my tongue.

It sounds trite, but I think I died that night. What emerged is the woman who walks this world without a soul.

I’ve never forgotten her pretty face, and as time has passed, I’ve only felt more defeated.

I let them take the only beauty in my world, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.

I’m on my side, pretending to sleep when Bastion comes in hours later. It was stupid to tell him, but the truth tumbled from my lips of its own volition.

Maybe I’m tired of carrying the burden alone but giving Bastion this information has only allowed him the opportunity to judge me more. Could he hate the fifteen-year-old girl who was lost? Perhaps not, but he definitely hates me now.

I guess he’ll have to get in line, though, because I already loathe myself enough for the both of us.

I’m just starting to relax, assuming by his deep, even breathing that he’s asleep when he speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Closing my eyes, I smile wryly. “Why? We were fifteen. What could you have done?”

After a pause, he rumbles, “I don’t know, but I could’ve tried.”

Turning over on the bed, I say, “Bastion, would you have even wanted a child? At that age?”