How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

The guys look confused and worried at my pronouncement, and Gray ushers us all into his room. Once the door shuts behind us, I explain everything that happened between Cliff and me in the corridor of Hurst Hall.

“I probably shouldn’t have kneed him in the junk,” I add with a sigh. “It’s only gonna make him more pissed.”

For a split second, pride overrides the concern in their expressions. Elias chuckles, and even Declan and Gray crack small smiles.

“Fuck, I wish I was there to see that,” Elias says, grinning at me. He slings an arm around me and tugs me toward him, planting a kiss on my lips. “Next time you beat the shit out of Cliff, you have to promise to tell me so I can watch.”

“Stop it.” I shove at him lightly but don’t resist when he pulls me even closer. “Seriously, it was stupid. And I don’t know who he was talking to, but he’s obviously not the only one on campus who wants me gone.”

Unconsciously, my gaze flicks to Gray. Not that long ago, he was working with Cliff to get me to leave. He shakes his head, regret burning in his eyes, and I let out a breath.

I believe him. I hope it’s not a fucking mistake, but I truly believe he’s on my side.

Declan scrubs a hand through his hair, tousling the short black strands. “One thing is for fucking sure. We need to make a move before Cliff does something stupid,” he says. “Who knows what he’ll do in retaliation.”

18

“Where’s Gray?” I ask as I step out of my dorm building. Elias and Declan are waiting for me as usual, but there’s no sign of Gray. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, he said he’d meet us at breakfast,” Elias supplies. “He got a call right before we left. Seemed important. I think he’s good though.”

Declan gives me a small smile and we meet up with Max, chatting on the way to breakfast. When we get there, we’re among the few in the dining hall; it’s much more quiet compared to the lunch hours. Skipping the menu, the four of us head to the buffet and load up on gourmet shit that will likely be thrown out if it’s not all eaten by the end of the hour.

As we’re sitting down at a table, Gray strides into the large room with his hands shoved into his pockets, a stormy look on his face. It vanishes the second he catches sight of us though. He gives me a small smile before grabbing his own plate of food and joining us.

Elias raises an eyebrow and Gray nods, a subtle and silent conversation between the two men.

I glance from one to the other, my gaze snagging on Gray’s green eyes. The little flecks of blue in them are especially noticeable in the morning light that filters through the windows, and I suddenly want to paint something inspired by that. Or maybe I just want an excuse to stare at him for an hour.

“Is everything okay?” I repeat the question I asked Declan and Elias, needing to hear it from Gray.

He grimaces slightly, but hides it well. “Yeah, everything is fine. I just got a call this morning—”

As if summoned by his words, his phone rings. He mutters a curse under his breath and answers it.

“Did you get it figured out?” His voice borders on a growl. “Good. I don’t want him to try to intervene again, and if he does, tell him to fuck off.”

The conversation ends, and I cock an eyebrow. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

Gray lets out a sigh. “I guess you have the right to know,” he says slowly, glancing at the others. “I got a call this morning that the art show had been cancelled. Some shit about the venue already being booked.”

“What?” I sit up straighter.

He gives me a reassuring glance. “Don’t worry about it, Sparrow. I got it all sorted out. Turns out it was one of Cliff’s stupid ideas to hurt you. The venue was booked by us, but somehow he managed to pull some strings and get some book work forged.”

“That jackass,” I mutter, trying to shove down the rage that’s welling up inside of me. “He’s so fucking petty.”

It’s too early for this, and even though he’s done worse damage before, this especially hurts. This will be my first art show ever, and that’s a huge deal to me. It’s not about any money I could make if pieces sell—it’s about sharing something so important to me with the world.

Declan’s hand reaches for mine under the table, the rough tips of his fingers rubbing against the back of my hand comfortingly.

“If he tries to fuck with it again, he won’t be able to,” Gray says firmly. “The show will go on as planned.”

Still, over the next several days leading up to the art show, I can’t help but feel like something is going to happen. Cliff is quiet—too quiet—and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s planning shit or if he’s genuinely scared of the Sinners’ influence. As much as I hope for the latter,

I’m not sure Cliff has the sense to be afraid of anything. He strikes me as one of those entitled assholes who’s been taught since birth that the world owes him everything.

I’m thankful I have the guys on my side though, because they don’t let me doubt myself for one second. As I work my ass off painting and getting things ready for the show, they rally around me, forcing me to stop when I forget to eat and warding off anyone who tries to disrupt me when I’m working. I can tell Max is getting slightly annoyed by their display of alpha control, but I honestly don’t mind it.