Page 103 of Iris' Lying Eyes

I’m exhausted just thinking about it and frankly, the fact that John’s motivations are simple in comparison speaks to the depravity of the bullshit I’m buried under. Fuck me.

“Look, I suspect Diem’s pulling a fast one,” I say.

“Shit.” Someone says, and I roll my eyes to Bastion when he asks, “How do you know?”

“Because I’m the one who’s been the go-between with the senator.”

“What?” Cyn says while the others exclaim until I’m battling a cacophony of disbelief.

Holding up my hand, I sit up and say, “That was the deal.”

“Let me guess, you get something out of it too. How do you live with yourself?” Jig sneers.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bastion growls, and I whip my head around.

Jig eyes him stonily but looks away first, his jaw ticking.

Eyeing them both warily, I say, “Yes, I made a deal. If I did my part, he’d help me leave John, but I’ve been waiting for fucking ever.”

“Whose goons are guarding her up at that cabin, then?” Bastion asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug.Lie.

“Iris,” B growls, and I wave my arms. “I don’t. I didn’t ask. I contacted someone who knew someone, but the deal was I don’t ever ask. I do my part, and we all move on.”

“What’s this dick supposed to do?” Cyn asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He told her he’d help her. I thought maybe he was going to the cops, but I suspect he’s no better than the others.”

My stomach roils at that, but in my defense, I thought, for once, someone was here for me, cared about me. I was wrong. Again.

“So, what? Liberty’s fucked? Jesus, Iris,” Jig grunts.

Laughing, I lean my head back. These dicks take so much for granted, and still, it burns that they’re judging me.

“Iris?” Bastion says, and I wipe my eyes.

“What?”

“What are you not saying?”

Avoiding his gaze, I look at my cuticles before dropping my hands. I’m tired of avoiding shit. They want to know, fine. “Getting between this dude and what he wants is suicide. You saw the guns and the guys. He’s hardcore.”

“Who is he?” Bastion demands, and mentally I cringe before saying, “Finnen McCafferty.”

“Monkey balls. How did you get hooked up with him?” Rain breathes, and I meet Jig’s blank stare. He looks away, and Alice glances between us with narrowed eyes.

Raising my chin, I give him an out even though I’m not sure the dick deserves it. His father and old man Paddy had to have known Finnen’s back in town.

“He was an associate of Roman’s.”

Bastion raises a brow, and I sink into my seat. Does he know something I don’t? Shit, maybe I’ve just shown my hand.

Smiling bitterly, I wave my arm. “Whatever. He knew a lot of people. Let’s move on.”

“Finnen McCafferty is bad news,” Jig says and I silently agree—hindsight and all that shit.

“Is he the lost boy?” Cyn asks and my ears perk. Lost boy?

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