Page 142 of Jig's Last Dance

John is still out there, and I presume Iris is texting me about that, which is why I’m skeptical of her message.

However, she did save my life by contacting Rain, so I’ll bite, even if I’m appropriately wary.

Alice: Fine. What?

Iris: Seriously? What took you so long?

Alice: What do you want?

Iris: Not over the phone. Meet me

Alice: Iris

Iris: Just meet me. John’s not here

Despite my misgivings, I agree to do this last thing for her, but then I’m out. I suspect John is holding the boy she mentioned over her, and if I can help, I’ll do my best.

I have a feeling John’s number is up in Sal’s book anyway. He’d be better off hiding like the little bitch he is.

“Sunshine,” Jig says, entering the room with a wide smile.

I haven’t left his home since he brought me here beyond going to school and hanging out. Neither of us has mentioned it, but I’m happy here, and Jig seems to be content too.

Who knows what his parents think?

Glancing at Iris’ texts, I raise my head and say to Jig, “I need to go somewhere.”

He cocks his head, and I smile when his warm blue eyes cause a flutter in my chest. “Will you go with me?”

“Where?”

“Can I tell you on the way?” I think Jig would honor my wishes anyway, but I’m not taking any chances. Hopefully, he’ll be more amenable if we’re already on the road when I tell him.

Once we’re in the car, I give him the address and say, “It’s Iris.”

“What?” he growls, and the SUV slows.

Touching his arm, I say softly, “Please, I need to do this.”

He searches my gaze before silently nodding, and with a warm touch in my heart, I lean against his arm and hum under my breath. I never thought we could have this, but now that I’m here, I want to be close to him as much as possible.

He’s concentrating on the road, with a furrow between his brows, when I trace my fingers over his ink and say quietly, “What does the rose mean?”

He goes rigid, and I suck in a breath. Did I cross a line? Of course, I did. But I need to know, and Jig needs to talk about it. I just hope our relationship isn’t too new and fragile to be pushing him already.

I haven’t told him about Mandy, and with each day that passes, I’m both hopeful that I never have to and dreading when the truth comes to light.

The silence is awkward. I’m considering scooting away when he says quietly, “She never came home. We never found her body. I guess this is my way of remembering her. She’s always with me anyway.”

My stomach turns to stone, and I look away. Shit. How long can I respect his wish and not say anything? Not about this. No fucking way.

“Jig?” I say uneasily, and his cool gaze meets mine. Mentally cringing at the distance he’s put between us, I shift on the seat and wish, for once in my fucking life, I didn’t have bad fucking things to reveal to him.

“What?” he says.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Sunshine,” he growls in warning.

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