Page 107 of Iris' Lying Eyes

As soon as the whole crew invades the kitchen, I excuse myself to take a shower. That many people are overwhelming. It’s not because the room is small but that my world shrank, and now I’m struggling to adjust.

The warm spray relaxes my tense muscles, and with a groan, I lean against the wall.

It feels good to be around Rain after so much time has passed. Our easy laughter from earlier reminds me of who I used to be but when I caught her staring at me with a furrowed brow, I knew we had a long road to go.

If I had more time, I’d show her that I’m still me, but I fear this can’t last. All too soon, I’ll be forced to lie again, and they’ll all hate me. I guess, for now, I’ll try to soak it in, though. I miss the days of our easy camaraderie.

Sometimes, I wonder if it wasn’t all a dream. Maybe I was born John’s slave. Maybe this alternate life was nothing but something I made up to get me through the nightmare.

Rolling my eyes, I switch off the water and step from the shower, pausing when I find Bastion leaning against the wall.

My heart thumps at the weariness I spy in his eyes, but I ignore it and him, grabbing the towel off the rack.

He raises his head, his eyes dropping to my chest, and I shiver, goosebumps rising on my skin.

We speak no words as he turns to me, and I drop the towel. Jumping into his arms, I claw at his skin as he shoves me against the wall. This isn’t gentle nor kind, but it’s what I need as he surges into me with a growl.

Mashing my mouth against his, we kiss like we’re starved while he thrusts into me so heavily, I slide up the wall. When I reach my peak, I cry out into his mouth, and he swallows my pleasure with a grunt of his own.

It’s heaven and hell, all wrapped into one.

∞∞∞

“My mom had red hair,” he says quietly, and I pause with the brush halfway through my curls. Is that why he wants me? Another reason to save his damn mother. Jesus, B.

I trace my eyes over his beautiful form, where he’s sitting on the bed watching me, and tilt my lips into a smile. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she hated it. Said redheads are cursed.” The low rumble makes me laugh.

“I can agree with that,” I say, my eyes widening as he rounds the bed and takes the brush from my hand. Frozen, I finally drop my hand when he says, “Sit.”

Warily, I do, watching as he brings the brush to my head with a furrow between his brow. When he runs the bristles through the snarls, I close my eyes because my heart aches at the tender gesture.

I try to push it away, but it’s no use. It fills me full until I’m afraid I’ll float away.

“Hold still,” he says gruffly, and I smile. “You’re an impatient man, B.”

He pauses, his hand midair, and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Can’t help it. I know what I want.”

“What’s that?” I whisper, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

His eyes flicker before he grabs a tress of my hair and rubs it between his fingers. “You.”

I suck in a breath, but it’s no use. The air is trapped in my lungs. Grabbing his hand, I extricate my hair and say through the frog in my throat, “You don’t want me, B.”

He drops his hand and taps the brush against his thigh. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because I’ll betray you in the end.”

He gazes at me steadily until I squirm and says, “I’ll take the risk.”

Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the bed and presses me gently onto the mattress. I reach out for him, but he shakes his head, leaning into the crook of my neck and trailing kisses down my skin. Goosebumps rise in his wake, and I shiver, saying on a sigh, “B.”

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, nipping and sucking before trading out for the other. All the while, I stare at him, my heart in my throat. This isn’t sex, not the way he peppers kisses down my torso and stops at the scar on my abdomen.

With a kernel of unease, I press my hand over the skin, resisting when he grabs my fingers, but he’s unrelenting and pushes me away. I’m not prepared though when he traces my scar with the pad of his finger before kissing the marks that cover me from left to right, a reminder of my bad decisions.

With his tenderness, tears leak from my eyes, and when he finally slides inside me, I meet his gaze with a plea in mine. But I don’t know what I’m asking for nor what he’s willing to give.

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