She must see the seriousness in his face, because her face blanches. Gray isn’t here to defend me, to defend himself, to pick a fight—he’s here to state the fucking truth. And for some reason, my skin heats just a little, my nipples tightening with arousal at the deep rumble of his voice.
Fucking hot, I think, my heart racing in my chest.
“You wanna see people with mental issues? Psychos?” He smirks. “Look in a fucking mirror, or at the bitches behind you. It’s not Sophie you should be worrying about.” His gaze flickers to Reagan, then back to Caitlin. “Stay the fuck away from Sparrow, and keep your friends away too.”
I can hear that Gray is being completely fucking serious, and I know Caitlin gets the point. For the first time since I’ve known her, she looks almost… flustered. Scared.
“Well,” she says, her voice a little too high. Too shrill.
She looks like she’s about to say something else, but instead, she turns on her heels and snaps her fingers, demanding that her clique follow her as she sashays away. They scurry after her, and although I watch Reagan closely, she never meets my gaze.
When they’re gone, Gray spins around and faces me, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me flush up against his body before leaning down and kissing me hard. It’s a claiming, bruising kiss, one that communicates only one word.
Mine.
The heat inside me explodes, radiating outward and making me lean into his body, my hips grinding against his hips as our public display of affection turns nearly x-rated. A moan that only I can hear rumbles out of his chest as I kiss him back just as hard.
When he pulls away, I can tell by the darkness of his eyes that he wants nothing more than to drag me to the nearest staircase, shadowy classroom, closet—hell, even back to the car—and fuck my brains out, but he restrains himself. My whole body seems to pulse and throb, wanting it just as bad.
“That was hot as fuck.” I lick my lips and grin up at him, letting him know I don’t just mean the kiss. “It sure as hell beats the beginning.”
Seeing him stand up for me like that? I like it, way more than I ever thought I would. And having him kiss me in such a branding, claiming gesture? It makes all the shit he did when I first arrived at Hawthorne seem like a distant memory. He was an asshole to me once—all right, fine, more than once—but this kiss is a promise of everything he’ll do to make up for that.
When Gray releases me, Elias gives me a flirty grin that’s far from innocent. It’s a grin that tells me he’s thinking about his hands on my naked body, my skin against his skin, the way he fucked me last night. He tugs me toward him and plants a kiss on my lips too, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth when I open for him.
I know people are watching. Hell, some of them are openly staring by now. This is the first time the guys have kissed me one after another in public like this. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, the way it was always meant to be. As if they don’t give a single shit what anyone thinks.
Declan tugs me from Elias’s embrace before his friend relinquishes me, and I chuckle as he winks at me. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. When our lips meet, his hand slides down my back and cups my ass with a firm squeeze.
I smile against his mouth, a giddy sort of happiness filling me and momentarily drowning out my stress.
The rumor mill at Hawthorne has already been buzzing for a while about my relationship with the three Sinners. But there’s no need for the rumor mill anymore. The guys might as well have picked up megaphones and announced to the entire campus that we’re together.
I like it.
I like it a lot.
At least one of the men sticks with me at nearly all times for the rest of the day, watching out for me as much as they can. When I mention that I’m worried about them missing their own classes, they explain that they had some things rescheduled to make sure I’m as protected as possible.
They did all that for me.
For once, I don’t bitterly tell myself to enjoy it while it lasts. I just enjoy it. I enjoy having my men close to me, and I accept their help.
The next few days pass in pretty much the same way, and although I don’t run into any trouble on campus thanks to the Sinners constant vigilance, I still feel like there’s a guillotine hanging over my head.
Because it’s really not a matter of if Alan will come after me, it’s only a matter of when.
I’m still working on recovering more memories now that things have been jogged loose in my head, but it’s slow going. I’ve come up with a few more vague snippets from my past, but nothing that points to definitive proof that Alan held me captive as a child.
Right now, all we have is my word against his, and we all saw how fucking great that w
ent.
We need more.
Remembering what Doctor Cohen said, I try not to get frustrated or disappointed when memories are slow to resurface, but I sometimes wish I could reach inside my mind and physically pull the information out.
I need answers, and I need them now.