Page 44 of Iris' Lying Eyes

The night air is brisk, and I shiver, wrapping my arms around my middle. The temperatures are dropping as we head into fall, and I regret not bringing a sweater.

Laughter brings my head around, and I watch as a man gets into his car, and it slowly traverses the lot.

Footsteps follow, and I search the darkened area for the source, but I can’t see beyond the sparse light from the building.

When no one emerges, I step back to the car and grab the handle. What is it within our brain that sends out a warning signal when danger is imminent? A sixth sense? Something else?

Regardless, I have the roiling feeling in my gut as I fumble with the door, only to freeze when a hulking figure emerges from the trees.

I can’t see features the way he’s in shadow, but I don’t need to, to know this isn’t a friendly visit.

Pulling on the door, I turn to jump inside.

I’m not quick enough, though, and he grabs onto my ankles with his cruel hands.

I kick out, but all I get is a grunt before he’s pulling me from the seat.

“Fuck,” I cry as I hit my head on the edge of the door before he drops me to the gravel and sits on top of me.

He speaks no words, which is more disturbing than a diatribe of threats.

My face is firmly planted in the ground, and he’s pushing my cheek brutally against it. Apparently, that’s not enough, though, because he grabs me by the hair before slamming me back down.

Stars dance behind my eyes, and I taste the coppery tang of blood on my tongue.

I’m going to die. Here. Now. And I don’t even know by whom. But the list of candidates is long.

“Unh,” I warble, gasping against the pain. I raise my head, wriggling for all I’m worth, but he’s immune as he wraps his hands around my neck.

This doesn’t help with the air trapped in my lungs, and I struggle as best as I can with the brutal fucker over top of me.

Tiny rocks stab at my skin. My heart is in my throat, and I open my mouth on a silent cry.

“What’s going on?” Someone shouts beyond the car.

I rebound off the ground when he drops my head. With a grunt, my attacker leans in and whispers in my ear, “You’re trouble. I don’t do trouble. Now you’re going to learn the hard way that you should’ve stayed where you belong.”

Roman? I can’t tell by the gruff tone of his voice, but he shoves away from me and stalks off.

Touching my forehead, I wince. My head roars from his abuse, and I’m sure I have bruises, but I’m alive.

Unfortunately, I have no time to recover before Bastion appears around the vehicle and spies me on the ground. Shit.

What lie will I be forced to tell him now? There’s no question that it will be because I can’t afford for him to look further than the bitch persona I present. Too much is at stake.

But I’m so fucking tired and for once, I’d like to share my struggles with someone knowing they’re willing to help.

∞∞∞

My hands sting as I sit up and grab the edge of the car.

“Iris?” Bastion barks, and I close my eyes as he drops to a knee before me. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I mumble, pushing to my feet.

Grabbing my arm, he looks around before saying to one of his goons, “Check it out.”

The man nods and disappears into the trees. This leaves Bastion staring down at me with a frown. “Tell me who did this. Now.”

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