Page 4 of Iris' Lying Eyes

Soon. My stepdad’s on my ass

It’s code for calm the fuck down.

Don’t wait too long. I got bitches waiting for me to drop you

Lovely. The implied threat doesn’t go unnoticed, and rubbing my aching head, I turn back to John’s phone. Truthfully, John could be talking to anyone, and I wouldn’t know. It’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Where’s the money?

Did you talk to the owner?

How many tires?The last one makes me snort. These dicks and their code words.

You’re playing with fire. You won’t like the consequences

Hm, who the hell is this? It’s like John can’t keep his hands out of the damn cookie jar. Does this have to do with what I overheard? Does it matter? Information is currency in my world.

The shower is still going. Glancing down the hall, I shrug and tap out a text.

I’m sorry, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?

You know who this is, you little fuck. Keep the bastard away

Okay, how to respond? I want to know who they’re talking about, but I’m not sure I’m going to like the answer.

Which bastard might that be?

Careful, or her brains will join those of her mother’s on the parquet floor

Wow, hardcore. Dropping the phone, I blink before it all rushes in. Mom. Her death sentence. Fuck.

They must be talking about me, whoever it is—although all roads lead back to a McCafferty because my mom died in his home.

Fuck, I don’t know.

The shower cuts off, and I curse before deleting the text string and closing the phone. My palms are slick, and I catch the damn thing before it slips through my fingers and place it back on the table.

Hm. Cocking my head, I move it an inch before moving it back.

Fuck. Is this where it was?

I don’t know. My spine tingles, and I shudder before vaulting over the table into the kitchen. I grab the first things I see, a bag of chips and a bottle of water, before rushing back to the couch.

My heart is in my damn throat as I set them on the table and casually move his phone out of the way. Hopefully, he’ll think nothing of it, but I eat the chips with a roiling stomach until he grabs his phone without comment and walks away.

What now?

∞∞∞

I’m staring into the night sky. It’s dark, really dark. My pulse pounds in my throat, and I cover my mouth to conceal my panicked breaths. I can sense him in the air, and all the hair on my arms stands on end.

Is this the end? Strangely, my fear fades as exhilaration takes its place. I’m not afraid of death, more so living in—

“Ahhh!”

“Wha—?” I slur, opening my eyes.

The world around me curves, and I blink to regain my focus. It doesn’t help, but nothing does. The faint churn of nausea tells me I’m due for another fix. Where’s John?

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