Page 34 of Made for Cyn
Shitbag.
Sucking in a breath, I take a drink from the bottle and shudder when the fire burns an unpleasant trail down my esophagus. And then, because the burn wasn’t enough, I choke because the bitter taste is reprehensible. Shit, alcohol is nasty.
“What’s your name?” I rasp, passing him back the bottle.
“Brent,” he says with a curl to his lip.
I take another deep drink with a gasp when he hands it back to me. “I’m Rain.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Everyone knows who you are.”
“How?” I know I’m the new girl, but surely that can’t be the reason.
“Cyn made sure of that. Why do you think Shelby grabbed him up so quickly?”
“I don’t understand.”
“He claimed you and that made her nervous.” He chuckles, taking another drink before passing it back to me.
“Cyn did what?” I ask, taking another drink.
“He claimed you. You know, in case anyone else got any ideas.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the fire. So, I can’t what, date, or whatever, but he can fuck Shelby?
Uh, yeah, no—I’m not a possession, and I’m certainly not a side piece.
We lapse into silence as I proceed to help him consume the alcohol grimly, and with each harsh swig, my throat burns, but my pain dulls.
I’m bored and fucking seething by the time the bottle is half empty. With my mind made up, I turn to my new friend as the world spins a little and slur, “You wanna make out?”
He laughs in my face before handing me the bottle. “What is this? Seventh grade? I like my balls where they are. Here, you need this more than I do.”
Watching him walk away, I eye the bottle before setting it down beside me because if the watery glow of the fire and everyone around it is anything to go by, I don’t need more.
Shit. Well, that backfired spectacularly, but it’s just as well. I didn’t really want to make out with him anyway.
Standing unsteadily on my feet, I wobble and then giggle as I stumble away, only to stop up short when I approach a small cliff too dark to see near the fire.
Above me, the stars shine so brightly that I think of the compound, my parents, and Joey. By now, we’d all be sleeping in our beds, but with little in the way of electricity, the same stars would be so much brighter above our heads.
Rubbing my stinging eyes, I chuff out a sigh. I miss them so much right now, and I feel so very alone.
I used to read Joey a bedtime story every night before we went to sleep. When he got too old for me to read to him, well, I laid back and let him do the honor. I was lonely then, yearning for experiences beyond our little world, and I didn’t appreciate those moments enough, but now I see that I traded one sense of loneliness for another, and the feeling is hollow in my damn chest.
Maybe I made a mistake coming here. Perhaps I should’ve stayed where things made sense.
“Don’t stand so close,” Cyn says gruffly, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me back.
My skin tingles where he’s touching me, and I shiver in the cool evening air before remembering where his hands were minutes ago.
Stepping from his arms, I stumble, giggle out a hiccup, then slur, “Leave me alone.”
“How much did you drink?” he growls.
