Page 41 of Made for Cyn
“Your little bitch is messing around where she shouldn’t be.”
Iris moves to get off Saul, but he holds her still as he groans and sighs, presumably reaching his end. Staring at the wall, I squirm with embarrassment, appalled by them all.
After a moment in which Saul takes his time, he pushes Iris off him and zips up his pants as he says lazily, “Relax. She’s not an issue.”
“How do you figure? She’s got a mouth, right?”
Shivering, I hope he’s not thinking about anything but me spreading rumors with said mouth, but then Saul looks me over and smiles. Oh hell, no.
“I’ll take care of it,” he says, and his friend snorts before stalking away.
“Better fucking take care of it. Or I will.”
Rubbing my arm, I let loose a quiet breath when he’s gone, only to suck it back in when Saul says softly, “Whatever you saw goes no further than this room. You understand?”
His hard eyes stare at me with a warning I’m afraid to ignore, and I nod, fighting to keep a straight face as he gazes at me quietly. He projects a menace that runs off him in waves, and it’s not comforting when he studies me and then smiles. “Good. You ever done a threesome?”
To be clear, even his fucking smile is hair raising, and I fight the urge to shift as I cast a desperate look at Iris. “No.”
She’s staring at me weirdly, and I raise my brows, begging her to get the fucking hint. Finally, she snaps out of it and turns to Saul, running her hand over his leg suggestively, but he just pushes her off. “Get going. I’ve got things to do.”
With that, he walks toward the back of the house, and I turn to Iris with wide eyes, but she ignores my look as she sets herself to rights.
After, I follow her to the car and sit through the ride home in tense silence.
Chapter Seven
It’s Monday morning, and I peel away from Iris as soon as I hit the doors of the school. We haven’t spoken since the incident, and I don’t know what to do.
Cyn’s threats about keeping an eye on her definitely make more sense, but why? And what the hell is she thinking?
Saul makes my skin crawl, and clearly, he has zero respect for her. She deserves more, and I’ve never seen her act this way.
And the abortion gone wrong? Holt shit.
Unfortunately, I’m clueless about everyone in this place, and I can hardly ask Cyn since he hasn’t so much as reached out, not even to check on Iris’ activities. I know of only one other person I can ask, which is why I rush to lunch, hoping to make it to our table before Iris.
I slide into the seat next to Oscar so abruptly he rears back with bemusement, and I smile sheepishly when he eyes me warily before glancing around the cafeteria.
“Rain,” he says, and following his gaze, I meet the ice-cold stare of Cyn, who looks between us with a frown. Whatever.
“I need your help, Oscar,” I mutter, caught in Cyn’s considering stare. Why does he care? It can’t be about my virginity, which means if I don’t figure this out, I may be in more trouble than I thought.
Besides, I’m not sure Cyn and his actions matter because Saul and his friend’s threats felt far more dangerous.
“What?” he says, breaking me away from my stare-off with Cyn.
“I need to know about Sa–Razor.”
“The last time I opened my trap, I almost got my ass kicked,” he says grimly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “and I won’t ask about them. But I need to know why Razor is bad news.”
He pulls back from me with a pointed look in Cyn’s direction, and I realize I’m leaning in all secret-like. Shit. Forcing myself to relax, I glance back at Cyn worriedly.
I’ve piqued his interest because now he’s scowling at me, but he’ll have to deal because I have more significant issues at the moment. Fuck me.
“Rain . . .” Oscar sighs.
