Page 97 of Iris' Lying Eyes

“Yeah, because I was of use.”

“How?”

“It was my job to keep them guessing. To keep them all guessing.”

“John?”

Nodding, I lean my head against the wall. “He knew something was up. I have no idea why he hasn’t tried harder to get to me.”

“Because he must have known what I was after,” he muses.

Does he? What’s his aim? He must know his life is on the line. Just like Roman, who got desperate. Unless John knows more than he’s let on—another hair-raising possibility.

“What about Roman?” Bastion says.

“What about him?” I ask, stretching my back. A mat on the floor is not cutting it, but since I’m not Princess fucking Liberty, I guess I don’t pass muster.

“What does Roman have to do with this?” Jig insists, and I narrow my eyes.

He’s pushing this shit, and I don’t fucking appreciate it.

“What?” Bastion barks, and I jump. Spinning to him, I slam my hand against the floor and snarl, “He was the hunter, all right?”

“The hunter?” Cyn says, and Bastion frowns. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying he was Hunter. He hunted down the girls up there.”

Bastion’s eyes turn to stone, and he drops to his back. Behind me, Cyn throws him a bone, I guess, because he changes the subject, growling, “In which case, we circle back around to McCafferty.”

Ignoring them both, I touch my wrist before digging my nails into the skin. But this time, the pain doesn’t ground me, no it just joins the ache in my chest as I stare at Bastion lying on the mat with a blank expression. The truth doesn’t always set you free, I should know.

“What did Diem really want?” Bastion asks and I exhale quietly. At least he’s still present. It’s better than the alternative.

With a small smile, I say, “To warn me. Keep my shit together.”

“Warn you?” Jig asks.

“Yes, McCafferty runs a tight ship.”

There’s silence after my revelation until Cyn says, “He set us up.”

Avoiding his gaze, I murmur, “It’s all about the endgame, guys. Do you really think that old bastard would give up something so lucrative?”

Jig turns away and bows his head. Cyn drops to his ass on the floor, and Bastion closes his eyes.

“Secrets tear down the best of us,” I say. Especially me.

Chapter Twenty

Later, Lorraine appears. She hands a bag through the bars, and with a look both wary and full of awe, Jig grudgingly takes his. Bastion completely ignores her, and Cyn merely stares.

When she gets to me, she produces a key and turns it in the lock. “Come.”

Bastion is on his feet before I gain mine, and he grabs the bars, saying, “Where are you taking her?”

“Calm down, Romeo. We’re having a little chat.”

Bastion’s mouth curls into a frown; otherwise, he ignores her comment. “About what?”

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