How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

I crack a smirk. He sounds like fucking Draco Malfoy, a sorry little asshole who still needs daddy to do everything for him. But before I can say anything, he turns and stalks off. The other two Saints turn and follow him, Aaron casting a glance over his shoulder as they go.

When the crowd realizes there isn’t going to be a fight, they slowly disperse around us, but my head is still reeling from everything.

“He’s fucking serious, isn’t he?” I ask as Gray turns around to face me, his eyes scanning my body.

Not that I didn’t think Cliff was serious, but to hear him get so pissed about stupid little me? It’s fucked up. I don’t understand why he’s this goddamn obsessed with me, besides the fact that I beat his ass up for trying to assault me. Is he so butt hurt about that?

Elias makes a noise in his throat, still staring at the spot where Cliff and his buddies disappeared around the corner. “I guess it’s war, then.”

“Good.” Gray’s eyes are steely. Coming up to me, he wraps a possessive arm around me, pulling me close to the broad hardness of his body that fits so well against the softer curves of mine. “It’s about time someone taught that bastard a lesson.”

As we walk the rest of the way to class, I can feel every beat of my heart. It pounds out a heavy rhythm, but the emotion that’s making my pulse quicken isn’t fear. It’s amazement.

For the first time in my life, I’ve got people on my side, something almost like family.

Family.

I’ve never really known what that’s like, never experienced it before.

But if this is what family means?

I think I like it.

16

The next couple of weeks pass quicker than I would like. Somehow, I manage to keep my grades up while spending every free second I have trying to get shit on Cliff.

And in the midst of all of it, I haven’t dreamed. Not once.

I’m not sure if I’m happy about the fact. My dreams are never good, but I still can’t shake the feeling that they’re my brain trying to tell me something, trying to help me remember.

“How locked up are his family secrets?” Max grumbles, scrolling on her phone with one finger as the five of us sit at a table tucked into a corner of the cafeteria. “I swear, you can usually find shit on these kinds of people anywhere—rumors, the fucking internet. Cliff is somehow clean and connected to way too many wealthy families. Someone has to know something.”

“They probably do,” Elias says, “but even if they did, they’re sure as hell not going to say anything if you ask them. It’s the way the world works. Cover your ass by covering someone else's ass.” When I give him a questioning look, he shrugs. “The more connected you are, the more secrets you hold, and vice versa.”

“So the Montgomerys are holding a lot of secrets then?” I frown. “Seems to me they’ve got a pretty clean track record.”

We’ve been digging around for weeks, hoping to find something we can use against Cliff, just like he planned to use Melissa’s death against me. The protection the Sinners have offered me seems to be holding Cliff off from using whatever evidence he’s built up that would make me look like a murderer, but we can’t count on that lasting. He’s already proved he’s reckless, stupid, and obsessed with me. That’s a dangerous combination, and it means that at any moment, he could ratchet up his attack on me.

Unfortunately, aside from the fact that Cliff is a lecherous jackass, his family appears to be the perfect wealthy American family. Pretty faces, philanthropists, top donors to every good cause.

“All the more reason to suspect they’re hiding something,” Declan says. “I don’t fucking trust them.”

We all nod in agreement and finish up our lunches, our conversation shifting to lighter topics for a little while.

“You sure you’ve got her?” Declan asks Max as he gets up from the table, a teasing smile playing at his lips.

The guys are still escorting me around campus whenever they can—all three of them, now. And when they can’t have eyes on me, Max picks up the slack. I swear, I feel like I’ve got an entourage of bodyguards.

My best friend rolls her eyes. “You know I’d beat ass if anyone tried to touch her,” she says, giving them a shooing motion. “Get the fuck outta here. We’re gonna talk about girly things.”

Gray gives me a lingering look as the Sinners walk away. Things are getting better between us, but the time we were apart and the bad blood that built up over those weeks still hovers in the air sometimes. I know he wishes he could banish it entirely, and honestly, I do too.

But I think it’ll just take time.

“Girly things?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at Max once the guys are gone. “We never talk about girly shit.”

“I know. But men are scared of girl talk,” Max says, laughing. “Even those assholes. It’s the quickest way to get them to bail.”