Page 45 of Iris' Lying Eyes

“It’s nothing, B,” I say tiredly. “Can we go?”

“No, not until you talk.”

Meeting his gaze, I smile wryly and say, “You gonna hunt down every dick I fucked over? Good luck.”

His brows slam over his eyes, but I ignore him, reaching for the door. My throat is on fire, and I’m trembling like a damn leaf.

I’m still dazed, but my body is telling me in no uncertain terms what my mind struggles to comprehend. I almost died.

Would anyone miss me?Shit, stop being an asshole.

“What the fuck?” Bastion says, and I pause.

I know before I turn that it’s a message. The question is, from who? But I’m not prepared for what I see dangling from Bastion’s finger.

It should be innocuous, innocent, but the key chain lights up, spelling the nameSamin bright digital letters.

Sagging against the door, I stare blindly as Bastion says, the sound muffled by the roar in my ears, “What the fuck is this?”

Was it John who just attacked me like a little bitch? Possible but not probable. The man who pinned me to the ground was big, much bigger than my stepfather.

Who then? And where’s John?

Of course, he expects me to come running at the warning, but he doesn’t know about Bastion and Sam.

Or does he?

Shit. Pressing my palm against my chest, I will my heart to stop galloping. I’m liable to have a damn heart attack if I don’t calm down.

This is just a stunt. John doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that B has Sam. It’s okay. Dammit.

“Iris?”

When I don’t respond, staring into the distance, Bastion grabs my cheeks and says, “Iris, dammit. What’s going on?”

The sting brings me back. I meet his dark gaze, looking for reassurance that he can’t give me. He doesn’t fucking understand. None of them do.

“Iris!” he says sharply, and I gasp, pulling away.

“What?”

His eyes narrow as he searches my gaze before his brows slam over his nose. It takes the last of my reserves, but I pull my lips into a bitchy smile.

Huffing, he grabs the door, and with a roiling gut, not to mention a pounding head, I get inside.

From the corner of my eye, I watch him look at the key chain in his hand before pocketing it and climbing in beside me.

As the car drives away, I stare out the window, contemplating my next move.

Do I just outright ask Bastion? He’s not stupid. He knows this was a warning, but he’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer.

Maybe if I give the dick a blow job? Ha! Like he’d give in for that.

But I have to try something.

When I turn, he’s staring at me broodily, and with a small smile, I say, “B, about Sam—”

He leans into my face so quickly, I suck in a breath. “What’s your game?”

---