Page 145 of Jig's Last Dance

Nodding, she drops her head to the floor, and I wince at the dull thud. “Yes. If I know he’s safe, if I know . . . then I can end this for good.”

“John?”

She doesn’t answer, but a beatific smile crosses her features, and the sight steals my breath. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Iris of old, but her pretty features shine through.

“Why me?” I ask. “Why not give this to Rain?”

“Rain can’t help me. You can.”

Huffing, I say bitterly, “Why?”

Turning to me, she says quietly, “Because it was always supposed to be you.”

“Huh? You’re speaking in riddles again.”

Shaking her head, she coughs and grimaces. “Your dad came to me.”

Leaning back, I stare at her incredulously. “My dad? Ice Man?”

“Yes. He may have been a fucker, but he left the innocent out of this. Take the address. Find Sam.”

“Iris, what could my dad possibly have to do with this?”

Iris twitches and grabs my hand. “He promised me he would find Sam if I helped him.”

“By doing what?”

“I pushed you toward Jig. John didn’t fucking care as long as he thought he was getting info on the bastard. I made sure John stayed away.”

Doubting her story, I search her gaze, but she only smirks. Is it possible? Or is Iris high?

“So, you’re saying my dad did all this on purpose?”

“It’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

“Right. Because shooting my dad in the head is what’s best,” I say through clenched teeth, moving to stand. No more. I’ll help her, but her insistence on this is fucking cruel.

“Alice,” she tsks. “Everything happens for a reason. You think ending up here was an accident?”

She waves around the room, and I drop back to the floor, shaking my head. “There you have it.”

“No, I don’t have it.” Frustrated, I tug on my hair in the hopes of allaying the headache building in my skull.

“Think about it,” she says, and I groan. Holding up a hand, she murmurs, “Your parents supposedly died in an accident. But your dad lives. He hides. He waits. Why?”

“I don’t know, but I assume it was because someone tried to kill him.” My sarcasm is lost on her as she continues.

“Maybe, but do you really think Ice Man, a hired hit man, a trained killer, the coldest motherfucker I’ve ever met, would destroy his life for that?”

“Then what? Fuck, Iris, can you just be straightforward for once in your damn life?”

Her eyes take on a shine, and she grabs my hand, squeezing tightly. “He did this for you. For your brother. For that girl and Sam.”

“Girl?”

“The package.”

Shaking my head, I murmur, “He hated me. He tried to kill me.”

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