Page 131 of Jig's Last Dance

Can’t I have a fucking moment of peace?

“John’s gunning for you,” she says, studying her fingernails.

“Yeah, well, he’ll have to get in line,” I say.

She raises her eyes and blinks at me. “You don’t piss John off.”

“My Uncle Sal—”

“Can’t watch you all the time. You fucked up. Now fix it,” she says, opening the door.

“How?”

“You have the package? Give it to Sal,” she says.

“I don’t have the package,” I say stonily.

She cocks her head to the side. “Lies will get you nowhere. But John is willing to make a deal.”

“Oh, which is what?”

“Does it matter? You want to be free, right?”

“Iris,” I grind out between my teeth, but she just stares at me.

“Bring Rain to him, and he’ll cover for you.”

“Rain? No!”

“Yes, it’s her . . . or Ben.”

Staggering back, I grab my chest and sputter. No fucking way. Ben?

Her mouth lifts in a parody of a smile. “How do you think your dad covered for him? The only way was to get John’s help. He’s in charge of this shit.”

My stomach roils at the thought. I drop my gaze and whisper, “What will he do to her?”

She shrugs and steps from the stall, and with my stomach in knots, I grab the door. “I don’t have your number.”

Ignoring me, she slips outside, and I stare after her blindly until my phone buzzes, and I open the message—one word.Iris.

Now what?

I don’t doubt John is psycho enough to do something stupid. Will he tell Jig? Or Jig’s father?

What happens then?

Still, I’m not doing what he wants.

No fucking way. I already have to live with myself. I don’t need another fucking albatross around my neck.

After waiting a moment to catch my breath, I make my way toward the front entrance. I can’t breathe. I need out. Once again, I’m forced to make a choice, and the options are reprehensible.

I slow when a group steps in front of me and mutter under my breath, “Get the fuck out of my way.”

A rush of heat covers my back, and I know it’s Jig without having to look. My body recognizes his on a cellular level, and it’s truly fucking unfair that I can’t do anything about it.

Instead, I screw my face into bitchy before turning to him and his cool expression.

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