How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

“He was probably just protecting himself from Cliff’s wrath,” she mutters. “Maybe he knows how psycho and unbalanced his ‘friend’ is and didn’t want to risk getting on his bad side by admitting what he told me.”

“That’s totally possible.”

I blow out a breath, wondering why I’m not enthusiastically agreeing with her. If she’s having doubts about Aaron, I should probably be stoking those doubts, not trying to put them out. Maybe it’s because of how the Sinners and I started, the way something so fucked up and vicious is turning into the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“But in the end, he was also protecting you,” I add quietly. “Not only did he keep his shit together, he prevented a big fat target from being painted on you. If he admitted you hooked up with him to get dirt on Cliff, I’m pretty sure Cliff the fuckface would blame you a lot more than his buddy.”

She groans, running her hands through her hair. “See why I’m so fucking confused?” she says. “My feelings make me want to think he did it for me, when really he probably just did it for himself. It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” I tell her. “Look, I’m not one to judge relationships that start in messed up places. If you like Aaron, don’t just write off your feelings because they don’t make sense to you. Aaron’s not blameless here—he’s been friends with Cliff and taking his side for a long time, and Cliff is a piece of shit, okay?”

“You’re right.” She cocks her head, her eyebrows pulling together. “But you know what the weirdest part is? It’s almost like… it’s almost like Aaron knew what he was doing when he told me about the hooker. Maybe it wasn’t just a slip of his tongue. Maybe it was an active attempt to help me. To help you. Maybe he wanted us to use that against Cliff.”

I shrug. I’m not sure I agree with all of that, but I can tell Max really does have some kind of feelings for Aaron, and if I’m being honest, besides his association with Cliff, the guy really hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Look,” I tell her. “Go with what your gut tells you. If you want to see him, then see him. But the second he fucks with my best friend, I’ll kill him with my bare hands. No exceptions. No second chances.”

Max lets out a small laugh. “And that’s why I’m friends with you.”

We’re both quiet as we walk the rest of the way across campus. When we reach her building, she doesn’t go inside, just stands there.

“I think I’m going to go try to find him,” she says slowly. “Aaron, I mean. I want to clear the air between us and see if… see if I was right or if it’s just wishful thinking.”

I nod. “Okay. Good luck.”

I almost offer to go with her, but I know she won’t want me there. The looks that were passing back and forth between her and Aaron today make me think that, whatever this thing started as, it’s become real for both of them. I doubt she’ll want me chaperoning her talk with him, especially since his friend fucking hates me.

Honestly, I still don’t know how to feel about the fact that Max is into one of the Saints, but she didn’t judge my fucked up relationship with the Sinners, so I feel like I have to give her the benefit of the doubt here.

If it were Cliff she was interested in, that would be a different story. But Aaron seems different.

Leaving Max to sort out her guy problems, I head back to my dorm with a growling stomach.

It’s too late for the cafeteria to be open, and I know there really isn’t anything worth eating in my little kitchen. So instead of bothering with cupboards I know will be empty, I drop my bag off in my room and grab a hoodie, taking the short walk to the nearby downtown district that has some cheap bars and food joints.

Choosing comfort food tonight, I decide on a bar that serves greasy burgers and fries. The wait is short, but by the time I leave the bar with my hands shoved in my pockets, it’s dark.

I turn left and head down the sidewalk back toward campus, digging in my pocket for my phone to text the guys. I pull up Elias’s contact, my thumbs flying over the screen as I type out a message.

Suddenly, a car screeches.

There’s a dull thunk, and bright headlights cast harsh shadows in front of me, making my own shadow stretch out like some kind of monster.

Fuck. That car is right behind me.

My stomach flips over as adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I throw myself to the side, my body acting on pure instinct.

The car hops the curb and cuts over the sidewalk, missing me by bare inches as I go flying onto the hard pavement. The dark vehicle speeds away with another loud screech as I mutter a stream of curses, my wrists and ass throbbing from the impact of hitting the ground.

My heart races as I push myself up on shaking limbs, my breath coming in choppy gasps.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

I stagger after the car, my brain conjuring up some half-formed idea that I need to get the license plates, I need to get some identifying features—even though whoever almost hit me is long gone.

I barely make it three steps before I’m hit with a wave of memories, like walking straight into a brick wall.

My body jolts, lurching to a stop as my eyes open wide. I barely see the street in front of me anymore though. Instead, in my mind’s eye, I see a dark stairc