Page 72 of Iris
“I don’t want either or,” I say. “And don’t you think Dahlia hides behind her music a little?”
“She loves it.”
“I know…” I frown, trying to find the right words, but they elude me. “Dahlia also has her niche. Music, study, numbers. Things like that. You have art. Violet’s got the baby and Stephan, and Rue’s got…her impossible Rueness. I don’t know what I have. Yet.”
“You can write.”
Can I? I haven’t done much, not in a long time, not since school. Maybe that’s what I’d like to be, an intrepid female reporter. “The things I’d write wouldn’t be allowed here. I’d be critical?—”
“Hush, Iris. Not here.” She looks past me. “Quinn’s dancing with a guy, I don’t know who and Heath’s storming our way. I’ll ward him off.”
She takes off to intercept Heath and I weave my way back through the barges, going to the upper decks and dodging conversations, all the while looking for Xavier.
How can he disappear? He’s so tall, so broad, so…dynamic. Both he and Killian draw the eye, so where is he?
A horrible thought comes to me. What if he came to whisk me to the meeting? But it’s too early. I can get a cab and be in the Lower Side in ten minutes. I’ve got another half hour where I can squeeze in the dance and a stupid walk.
I head out of the first barge. There are sweet spots of darkness with lights littering the boardwalk now everyone’s here.
No maze this time, but plenty of places for daring lovers to dally.
Movement catches my eye to the left, where a thick copse of trees grow, but I don’t go over, as it’s darker. Someone’s turned off the lanterns so instead of pretty and dreamy it’s dark, foreboding.
I need to think. “You idiot, Iris,” I say, and I pull out my mini, doing something I should have done ages ago.
Send Mr. Scarsby a message. My fingers hover over the screen. I want to get his attention, right?
If you don’t eat the cake, it goes stale.
My screen doesn’t light up for seconds and my heart throbs in my chest.
Xavier
Fresh and moist is better. Where are you?
Outside.
Xavier
So am I.
My heart ticks up. It’s got to be him to the left, it makes sense why the little group of trees are in the darkness and I grab my skirts and hightail it over there, and I’m just about to step in when a hand grabs me and shoves me against a tree.
“Hi, Iris, you missed our dance.” My heart sinks at the vodka-stained breath of Jerome.
I try to push him off me. “Let me go, Jerome. I said later.”
“She missed my walk, too,” Donegal says, stepping in and sliding a leg between mine. “Lucky you’re pretty.”
“She’d be prettier without that tongue,” Jerome says, running a hand over my breasts as I try and slap him away.
He grabs an arm and Donegal grabs the other and he licks my throat, grazing his teeth against it.
My stomach churns. “I’m meeting Quinn. So let me go.”
“She’s dancing with one of our friends. You’re ours. We like to test drive the girl first. Fuck, is this a chastity belt?” Jerome asks, pulling at my skirt. “I want to feel your pussy. I bet you spread those legs easy. The pretty so-called virtuous ones do. If I mate you, I’ll remove your tongue. Quiet is best.”
“No, you need that, man. They can do things to your cock with their tongues,” Donegal says and laughs.
