Page 40 of Made for Cyn
I brought the phone Cyn gave me, even though I suspect that’s how he found me last night, but having the damn thing makes me feel better. I should ask Aunt Pam for one and give this one back, but I’m trying not to be a burden since I’m not her child and all that.
At any rate, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t call Cyn for help anyway, not after the ice out the night before.
“Hey, baby,” Saul greets from the couch, and I roll my eyes.
Great, I’m choosing between my skeevy uncle and Saul, and it’s definitely a toss-up. What is Iris thinking?
“Yo, why is she here?” he grunts, and Iris waves him off.
“She’s my cousin.”
He eyes me rudely. “So, she’s bringing trouble to my door.”
Standing awkwardly by the threshold, I stare right back, now uncomfortable, as Iris straddles his lap. “I thought you wanted trouble?”
He chuckles, his eyes lighting up, and I sigh, glancing around for a place to sit. Why me? I need some freaking friends of my own.
“You want a drink?” Saul asks me, and I shake my head.
“Hmm, well, go grab me a beer and come back in twenty minutes.” He leers, grabbing Iris’ ass.
She giggles, and I stare incredulously, but neither of them is paying me any mind. Seriously?
Iris leans in to kiss him, and I step back out onto the porch. What the hell?
I’m not his beer bitch—dick. And Iris bringing me here to wait while she fucks him is rude. I’m starting to realize that the Iris I once knew and loved is no more. In her place is a version I don’t recognize and I’m not sure I like very much.
Even though we saw each other infrequently, I always considered her my best friend because she was enthusiastic and light, even if a little sassy. Now, she’s grimmer than I’ve ever seen and taking risks I would’ve never thought possible. But why? What happened to her? And does it have anything to do with her unplanned pregnancy?
I can’t imagine how horrifying the experience was, and she can never outrun it. But there’s nothing I can do until she’s willing to talk about it. Sadly, I don’t think I’m that person for her anymore.
With nothing better to do, and since, apparently, I have a good twenty minutes of free time, I pull out the phone and play with all the apps. Unfortunately, I can hear the moaning and groaning from inside, and with a grimace, I sit down on the step and rub my brow.
What the hell am I going to do?
I’m knee-deep in an addictive game about candy when the low rumble of rough voices brings my head around.
“Yo, not like that, dick!”
Glancing up, I stand and approach the side of the house before peeking around the corner. Two guys who could give Saul a run for his money in the creepy department pull a limp body from the back of their car, and for a moment, I think he’s dead until he groans as they drop him to the ground.
His head swings my way, and his face is a kaleidoscope of colors, with both his eyes blackened, his mouth covered in blood, and a deep gash across his temple.
“You all right there, Eddie?” One of the guys who dropped him to the ground sneers, crouching beside him.
He has long, greasy hair slicked back in a ponytail and squinty eyes. When Eddie doesn’t answer, he turns him over with a grunt, and I stare with horror at Eddie’s pants. Whatever they did to this guy, he’s bleeding profusely from his ass because his jeans are soaked around his backside with blood.
I can’t contain my gasp, and I cover my mouth too late as the guy with the weasel-like features glances up and meets my stare. Shuddering under his narrow-eyed glare, I step back around the corner and lean my head against the wall.
Shit. What did they do to him?
Before I can decide what to do, Weasel appears and grabs my arm, snarling, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m with Iris,” I whisper, holding back the wince when he shakes me roughly.
“That bitch! C’mon.” He pulls me up and into the front room where Iris is riding Saul.
She gasps and covers her boobs when we enter, but Saul has no such qualms as he bucks into her while the dude still holding my arm shoves me forward.
