Page 116 of Iris' Lying Eyes

When I reach the top, I slip but grab onto the dirt, the majority of which cascades below me and, I assume, into his face because he snarls, “Goddamn it, Iris. You’re fucking useless. Get your ass up there so I can beat it.”

Wrenching on the dirt, I lay my leg over the top and pull, my muscles straining. With no food or water, I’m lagging, but finally, I roll over the side and collapse to my back.

Below me, John mumbles, “Fucking waste. Maybe it’s time I put you out of my fucking misery. Iris!”

I’m too fucking tired to think and roll over at his command. John is wrapping the rope around his wrist. His pale creepy eyes are creased, and he glances up with a frown. But my gaze slides to the baby who never stood a chance.

He didn’t deserve to die. Not because of me. Not because of him.

I cock my head to the side and turn back to John, whose mouth curls into a thin line. “Grab the other end and pull.”

His words barely penetrate as I slide my gaze back to the bones and rub my mouth. “Iris.”

When I meet his gaze once more, he raises a brow. “Remember our deal.”

Our deal. Deal.

Standing, I dust myself off and he tugs on the rope, saying, “Good.”

The other end is tied around a tree. I hear him grunt. The rope stretches, and bark flies.

Looking to the sky, I stare at the white puffy clouds. The trees are silent around me, and far off in the distance, I hear the warble of a bird.

Why does he get to live when Sam doesn’t? I’ve spent years—years—doing his bidding, and he took the one thing I still held within my grasp and broke it. Now he thinks he’s going to useBaby Girlagainst me?

He should’ve fucking quit while he was ahead because now, I truly know what it means to have nothing left to lose.

While John struggles to pull his puny-ass body out of the hole, I tug on the rope, but it’s wrapped too tightly around the tree. However, the arrogant fucker left a knife lying in the grass.

Dirt tumbles into the hole, and I grab the knife, placing it against the rope.

Wait! What if he does know where she is, my brain tries to caution me but my heart doesn’t fucking care.

The knife isn’t as sharp as I would like, and sawing through the twine, I find that my fingers are numb, which means I’m doing more damage to my hands than the damn rope.

“Iris? What the fuck are you doing?” My blood stains the line, and I smile. How poetic. He formed me out of my fucking blood, and he’ll see me rise from the ashes with the same.

“Goddamn it, I’m going to kick your ass when I get out of here,” he grunts, and a cascade of dirt flies into the hole. I saw faster, the sounds of his grunts and groans spurring me on. I can practically feel him flying from the hole when the rope comes loose, and I hold it in my slippery hands.

I did it. I fucking did it. Raising my face to the sky, I smile before spinning and approaching the hole. John’s face and shoulders have breached the pit, and he lets go of the rope to place one hand on the ground. His face is contorted into a fierce frown, his pale eyes, the same ones that haunt me in my dreams, focused on his efforts.

A bead of sweat slides down his temple. My mouth is so fucking dry, I lick my lips before rasping, “John?”

He looks up, and his eyes flash. “Help me, you little bitch.”

Searching his gaze—for what, I don’t know—I slowly raise the rope. His brows furrow before they rise over his head and he snorts, shaking his head. “You do this, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”

It already is.

With a shrug, I toss the end into the hole, and before he can do more than watch it fall below him, I swing around and kick out my foot. My momentum is too great, and I stumble forward but catch myself at the lip as John’s head snaps back and his wide eyes meet mine.

The incredulity warms my cold, dead heart, and as he lands at the bottom with an oomph, I drop to my ass.

“I’m warning you, Iris. When I get out of here . . .” His vicious tone should send me into hysterics, but I’m achingly calm as I whisper, “You’ll what?”

He doesn’t answer, but for a string of curses, and with a sigh, I roll to my back and close my eyes. The wind feels good on my cheeks. The sun warms me after days in the cold. All in all, it’s a beautiful day.

“Iris? Iris!” He roars, but I don’t answer.

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