Page 71 of Iris' Lying Eyes

“How?”

“How? Well, by then, he was getting arrogant, you know? I don’t think he tried to hide it from me, but I was snooping anyway. Well, at the time, I still thought I was super smart and sneaky.”

Smiling humorlessly, I flip my hair over my shoulder and sit on the couch. “The first thing I found were pictures. Just pictures. I don’t think I fully understood, you know. I was fifteen. But I knew it wasn’t right. I knew it was wrong.”

I can still see the images. Since then, I’ve witnessed things a thousand times more horrific, but that moment is seared into my brain. I think it was the first time I realized this was so much bigger than me. I don’t remember if I said anything to John, but more than likely, I retreated behind the wall I’ve come to perfect since.

“Anyway, over time, his little enterprise grew. He started pulling in other people, expanding, but when he did, he overestimated his power.”

“How?”

Rubbing my hands down my legs, I blow out a breath. He’s not here, but I still feel the urge to bow my head. What I’m doing could get me killed. Does Bastion understand that? Maybe he doesn’t fucking care.

“Well, he was going behind McCafferty’s back. That was the beginning of it all. Castinetti came along, dangling bigger fish. John couldn’t resist.”

“John does report to Castinetti?”

Shrugging, I scrunch my nose. “John reports far enough to appease the jerk. But John works for John. He always has, he always will.”

“Where does he get his clients? How does this all come together?”

“John has contacts. Men in positions of power. They trade favors. Money. Women. Experiences.”

Shivering, I glance away. This is so much bigger than John. Senators, royalty from other countries, rich as fuck playboys with nothing better to do.

“Okay, who? Who does John get this info from?”

“It just depends. One of his contacts reaches out with a prospect or a client. Someone tells someone who tells someone. There are so many people involved, B. It’s just not that easy. There are too many heads on this snake. John doesn’t matter because as long as there’s a need, there’s a way.”

“Let me deal with that,” he says gruffly.

“Fine. Yates. Jagger at one point. Castinetti. Frank McCafferty.”

“What about Hunter?”

“Hunter?” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I swallow, but fuck if it does anything beyond making my mouth drier.

“Yes, you mentioned him before.” Bastion searches my eyes with a single-minded intensity, and all the hair on my nape stands on end.

Does he know?

Thankfully, his phone rings, and he looks away, allowing me a moment to take a deep breath. When he stands, I mentally sag, grateful for the reprieve.

“I’ve gotta go.”

Nodding, I watch him stalk to the door, where he pauses with his hand on the jamb. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He doesn’t allow me to answer before he’s gone, which is just as well because I don’t know what I would say.

I’ve only ever been alone. Besides, Bastion taking Sam and using him as leverage doesn’t exactly inspire the warm fuzzies.

Now that he’s gone, I lay across the couch and stare at the ceiling. I feel both liberated and weighted down. Unfortunately, the bigger part of me wonders if I’ll survive this.

You can’t reveal the secrets of men such as these and not expect consequences. This is why I was content with taking out John. He’s just a cog that often causes problems for the others.

But looking at the bigger picture?

Deadly.

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