Page 67 of Iris' Lying Eyes

Diem shrugs, his eyes taking on a strange gleam. “He was a mean ass fucker from the womb. Tortured animals and shit. Anyway, he betrayed the family when he killed his own sister. He was kicked to the curb after that.”

Swallowing, I step closer, but Diem holds up his hand, producing his phone as he walks away. Grimly, I watch him step out the French doors before I turn back to Ramsay, but I’m derailed when a cold as fuck voice barks from the door, “What the fuck is going on in here?”

Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I mumble, “Great.”

“Bruno, this doesn’t concern you,” Ramsay says, but Bastion merely grunts, wrapping me up from behind.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Anything to do with Iris is my business.”

Strangely, his comment sends a shot of warmth through my heart, but I lock that shit down. “B—”

Ramsay raises his brow, but B’s not having it. “Nope, let’s go.”

“Fuck,” I snarl, kicking out with my legs. He tightens his hold and carries me easily from the room. At the last minute, I spy Diem waving from the door like a dick and miming, call me.

I’m grateful I don’t have to explain away Diem, but all thoughts are derailed as Bastion carries me through the night.

“B,” I say again, but he covers my mouth with his meaty hand, and I pause. Is he seriously gagging me? Fucker.

I wriggle, kick and even try to bite his hand, but he’s immune. He tosses me into the backseat of the SUV, and I turn, slamming my fist into his arm. Grunting, he grabs me up and folds me under his arm. I’m no match for his brute strength, but I’ve got a healthy set of lungs.

“You asshole. What’s your problem?”

Picking me up, he pulls me into his lap and covers my mouth again. Blankly, I stare at the seat in front of me before squeaking my outrage.

“Enough,” he rasps in my ear. Shaking my head, I scream profanities that he can’t hear, and he bucks into my butt. “Stop, or I’m going to fuck you right here.”

His erection bulges against my ass, and I’ll admit it to no one, but I’m glad he’s covered my mouth when I whimper. I’d love to give in and let go. But I can’t because Bastion takes a piece of me with him every time I do.

Sagging, I bow my head and close my eyes. I can’t win against him, so I’ll have to wait it out. Why the fuck he continues to come after me is anyone’s guess, but deep down, in the darkest reaches of my heart, I admit I’m relieved.

∞∞∞

Once we’re back at the house, I stomp up the steps and slam the door to the pink room. It’s lost on him, though, because he’s disappeared into the bowels of the house once again.

My amusement from before is long gone, but I’ll sleep in this pink fucking room before I lie next to that bastard.

Flopping on the bed, I close my eyes and fight the tears. Tears are fucking useless. But they come anyway.

I know I outreached him, but did he have to swoop in when I was trying to get answers? This is as much for his benefit as mine. Fucker. Although I concede, he doesn’t know that.

Okay, I’m here. I need to give him what he wants without going too far. No problem, I’m the fucking master of riddles. Just ask anyone.

Unfortunately, I’m out of time.

It’s all about to implode, and if I don’t speak up, I’ll have no way to defuse it before it does.

I rouse sometime later when the door hits the wall with a resounding thwack, and Bastion appears.

Opening one eye, I watch him approach. He weaves across the floor, stumbling before holding out his hand. Is he drunk?

When he finally reaches the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head. I trace his tattoos by the light of the moon, hiding my smile when he fumbles with his pants.

Eventually, he gives up and pulls back the covers, dropping like a stone next to me.

When he doesn’t speak but proceeds to snore, I frown. What the hell is he doing here?

He has a perfectly good room across the damn hall. With a kernel of annoyance, I slide from the bed, pausing when he says, “Where are you going?”

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