What Sinners Love (Sinners of Hawthorne University 3)

would never have expected six months ago.

His heart beats for me. And mine beats for him.

And no matter what my parents did to me, no matter what future heartbreaks I might face, that’s all I’ll ever need.

20

Smoking with Declan helped chill me out a bit, and having sex with him—not to mention hearing him say he loved me—helped settle the hurricane raging inside me even more.

But I’m still reeling from everything that Reagan told us by the time we put ourselves back together and head down to the kitchen to meet up with Elias and Gray. They look up when we come in, their gazes softening as they land on me, and my heart gives a comforting thud in my chest.

This.

At least I have this. Them.

A day like today would have completely wrecked me once upon a time. The news is still a hard pill to swallow, but with the Sinners standing beside me, I can process it without being ruined by it. Now that I have people I trust and love in my life, the blow of learning my family abandoned me as a little girl doesn’t hurt as badly as it once would have.

Because like Declan said, this is a family. Gray, Elias, Declan, and Max—they are my family. Not Charles and Maria Davenport, who handed me over to a monster in exchange for a favor.

“What’s going on?” I ask. I could tell by their tones as I walked in that it’s something important.

“We did a little digging while you two were upstairs,” Gray says, glancing between me and Declan. His lips twitch up in the slightest hint of a smile, heat burning in his eyes for a second, and I wonder how loud the two of us were. Then his expression turns serious as he continues. “We found your parents' address, as well as a bunch of information about their company.”

Elias nods. “We also found that your dad’s company failed about thirteen years ago… and it looked like he was going to go bankrupt, have to shut down, but then by some miracle that no one can explain, things turned around, just like that.”

Alan.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, even though I know he’s not. Rage boils up in me in hot waves, making my body go numb. “He chooses his company over his own daughter, his own flesh and blood?”

This man shares DNA with me. I was just a child, and my father knowingly and willingly chose his business over me. He’s not my fucking father—no more than Brody or any of my other foster dads were.

Brody and my father both used me and abused my trust.

And I hate them both.

Declan’s arm settles around my waist, pulling me closer as if he can sense the agitation of my emotions. “It’s unforgivable. People will do fucked up things to keep their world of comfort, their money and power.”

But sell out their own daughter?

“I want to see him,” I say suddenly, surprised by the firmness in my own voice. “I want to confront him. I want to know what the hell kind of bargain he made with Alan that started this fucking mess.”

The guys hesitate, but I know it’s not because they don’t think we should do it. It’s because they want to protect me. They want to keep me safe.

But the only way to do that is to confront things head on.

“I don’t run.” Drawing a deep breath, I lift my chin. “I fight. And I’m not running from Alan or my father or anything else. I’m fighting this until Alan’s in jail or I’m fucking dead.”

We don’t wait for a new day. We don’t sit on the information we got from Reagan, debating potential actions and strategies. Instead, minutes after our discussion in the kitchen, we’re piling into Gray’s car and speeding down the highway to my parents’ house.

I glance at the map on Gray’s phone, biting my bottom lip. It’s only about thirty minutes away from Hawthorne.

All this time, they’ve been less than a half an hour away. Not knowing I’m here, not even knowing if I’m still alive.

How could they be content with just that? If I meant anything to them, how could they be content just giving up? Did they ever actually try to look for me? Use the power they restored when they got their business back to bribe Alan into helping find me?

My stomach clenches as a new thought occurs to me. Maybe they did know where I was. Maybe they knew I returned to Hawthorne, and they just didn’t want anything to do with me.

Fuck. I hate all of this.