Chapter 203: The Other Side of the Story

Iris Wexley had to admit that Cyrus Calder was unfairly good-looking. Even standing on a bridge after dark, with that irritating hint of amusement in his expression, he was difficult to ignore. His features were striking enough that she could understand why people noticed him.

Understanding it didn't make her like him.

She had disliked him for too long to be impressed by a handsome face, and the way he was looking at her now only made it worse. He was enjoying himself. He'd asked whether she wanted to be the first person to call him annoying, as though the whole thing were a harmless joke.

There was nothing funny about what he'd done to Owen.

Ever since Cyrus had started spending time with him, Owen had been changing. Iris could see it, even if Owen couldn't. Cyrus was the one influencing him, pulling him into things he never would have considered before. He was making choices she had never encouraged, and Iris knew exactly whom she blamed.

Cyrus was going to lead him further astray if she let him.

Iris was supposed to be the person closest to Owen. When something in his life needed to change, she should be the one guiding it, deciding what was good for him and what wasn't. That was how things had always worked. Then Cyrus had come along, and suddenly Owen was making decisions she hadn't arranged and trusting someone she wanted nowhere near him.

That was the part she couldn't forgive.

The faint freckles across Iris's cheeks stood out in the light from the bridge. They suited her, giving her pretty face a distinctive warmth that her expression did nothing to support. Right now, she was looking at Cyrus with undisguised hostility.

Cyrus found the whole situation more interesting than he probably should have.

He'd been thinking for a while that the two of them needed to have a conversation without Owen or anyone else around. Iris had taken shots at him more than once. None of them had caused lasting damage, but having someone repeatedly find new ways to make trouble was getting old. If she intended to keep doing it, he might as well find out why.

She hadn't answered his last question. Her expression, however, made it clear that she would happily volunteer an opinion about him.

Cyrus waited a beat, then picked up where he'd left off.

"You set me up, then apologized when it came out. Why did you turn around and report me afterward?"

"Because I don't want someone like you standing next to Owen," Iris answered.

Her voice was steadier now. At least she wasn't shouting his friend's name at him anymore.

Cyrus gave a small nod. That confirmed what he'd suspected. When he'd thought back to the people near the counter at The Full Moon Lounge, Iris had been one of the few plausible suspects, apart from a certain woman from the school nurse's office. Iris hadn't bothered denying she was responsible.

To be fair, she wasn't entirely wrong about him. Cyrus had lied to people, hidden things, and made decisions a genuinely upright person might not approve of. He wasn't going to pretend he was some model citizen.

He wasn't nearly as awful as Iris seemed to think, either. Arguing about his character would get them nowhere, so he skipped it.

"Did you ever try telling Owen to stay away from me?" he asked. "That seems like the easier option."

"You disappearing from his life would work just as well."

Her voice dropped, and the resentment in it became more obvious.

Of course she'd told Owen. She'd tried when the three of them barely knew one another, back when Cyrus should have been easy to push out of the picture. Owen had refused to listen. For reasons Iris couldn't understand, he'd chosen to believe Cyrus instead of her. It was almost like Cyrus could make people trust him without giving them a reason.

Cyrus laughed quietly at her answer. There was a nasty edge to the way she'd said it, but he was more curious than alarmed.

"Now you've got me wondering. How exactly are you planning to make me disappear?"

Iris's expression hardened. She stepped toward the railing and turned slightly, bringing the dark water below into view.

There were no security cameras watching this stretch of the bridge. Their meeting had been sudden, too. She'd kept Cyrus in sight as he approached, and he hadn't appeared to do anything except walk toward her. There was no reason to believe he'd prepared for what she was about to say.

The river beneath them looked black, its surface broken by scattered reflections from the city. From here, it was difficult to judge the water's depth.

"There are plenty of ways to get rid of you," Iris said.

Cyrus glanced toward the water, then back at her.

"And which way did you have in mind?"

"Audra will be coming here in a little while."

"What's Audra supposed to do?" Cyrus asked.

His interest seemed to be fading. Iris had expected him to pay closer attention once he understood that she wasn't simply threatening to tell a teacher on him. Instead, he was standing there waiting for her to get to the point.

The plan had been clear in her head, and the more she pictured it, the more satisfying it became. Ruining something other people admired had its own ugly appeal. A picture could be perfect, but there was a particular satisfaction in tearing it until no one could put it back together.

"When Audra gets here, she's going to hear what happened," Iris said.

"What story are you telling this time?"

"That you tried to force yourself on me, and I fought you off. I was so desperate to get away that I jumped into the river before you could do anything."

Cyrus went quiet.

Iris watched for his expression to change.

"You could deny it, obviously. Then it would be your word against mine. But what happens if I'm actually in danger? What do you think Audra will believe? Or Owen, the teachers, everyone at school? What about the people who hear the story afterward?"

She remained beside the railing, studying his face for fear or the first sign that he was ready to bargain.

If Cyrus grabbed her to stop her from jumping, that would only help her. Someone arriving at the right moment could see them struggling. If he went into the water after her, he'd be taking an even bigger risk. Iris knew how to swim, and she was confident in her chances. The river was freezing, and there was no guarantee he'd make it out safely.

Either response suited her. All she needed now was a witness.

Cyrus stepped closer to the railing. Iris followed the movement carefully. Was he actually considering jumping after her? If so, she almost wished him luck. Even if he survived, his attempt to defend himself would bring him right back to the same ugly question of whose account people believed.

Then he asked something she hadn't expected.

"We're pretty far from shore, aren't we? Are you sure you'll be all right if you jump?"

Iris blinked. Of all the things he could have said, concern about the distance to shore had not been on her list.

"It's a story, remember?" she replied. "The girl always finds a way to survive the danger."

And a frightened girl who claimed she'd been attacked would have no shortage of people eager to defend her. She wouldn't have to do all the accusing herself.

Cyrus sounded as calm as he had when they first met on the bridge. He understood how vicious her plan was. A false accusation followed by an apparent attempt to escape into the river could destroy his standing at school even if he denied everything. Iris had picked a cruel way to put him in a corner.

It was also a good reminder of why humans worried him sometimes. Their feelings could drive them to extraordinary extremes. For all their apparent fragility, they'd managed to become the dominant force in the world. He could see how a species willing to go this far might accomplish that.

He couldn't imagine throwing himself into freezing water for a scheme like this. If he were willing to be truly ruthless, there were much simpler ways to get rid of someone causing trouble. That would be quick, if nothing else. He had no intention of taking that route.

A figure had appeared farther down the bridge and was walking toward them.

Iris was finding Cyrus increasingly difficult to read. Why was he treating this so casually? Did he actually think she wouldn't jump? His question about the water had sounded almost like genuine concern, which only made his reaction more baffling.

Anger pushed aside her uncertainty. She grabbed the railing with both hands.

"If I were you, I wouldn't jump," Cyrus said.

Iris tightened her grip.

"I don't think it'll do you much good."

Her plan was nasty enough that it might have worked against someone who arrived completely unprepared. By tomorrow, Cyrus could have faced accusations from classmates, teachers, and anyone else who heard the story. Getting his reputation back afterward would be a nightmare.

But he'd known Iris was hostile long before tonight. He wasn't stupid enough to walk into a private meeting with her and assume she'd suddenly decided to be reasonable.

Cyrus took his phone from his pocket, touched the screen, and started playing an audio file.

Iris heard her own voice explaining exactly what she intended to do.

The color drained from her face.

She'd watched him approach. She was certain he hadn't used his phone after coming into view. Yet there it was, every threat and every detail of her plan coming out of the speaker in her own words.

Had he somehow expected this from the beginning?

A worse thought followed. If Owen heard that recording, he'd know what she'd tried to do. Everything she wanted to preserve between them could fall apart at once.

Iris started to speak, but Cyrus cut her off before she could get an explanation out.

"Stop right there," he said.

He moved two steps closer and looked down at her. The faint amusement had gone from his face. His voice held no trace of anger, which made the words that followed harder to dismiss.

"Whatever's going on between you and Owen is your business. I'm not interested in getting involved."

He lifted the phone slightly.

"This recording would tell a lot of people exactly what kind of person you are. Owen included."

Iris said nothing.

"I'm asking for one thing," Cyrus continued. "Leave me out of it. Can you manage that?"

She seemed to have run out of ways to fight him. After a moment, she nodded.

The figure approaching along the bridge was close now. Iris turned away from the railing, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Please don't tell Owen. I'm begging you."

"That depends on you," Cyrus replied.

Then, as though another thought had occurred to him, he added one last piece of advice.

"Learn to accept change. You don't have to be so rigid."