When Sinners Play (Sinners of Hawthorne University 1)

“Holy shit.”

“Fuck, Elias, can you—”

“Yeah.”

The voices startle me, tugging at the part of my mind that most wants to remain asleep. I want to remain enveloped in the darkness. In the scent of soil and memories of begonias.

I want to stay here. But I can’t get my mouth to say the words, and before I’m able to utter a sound, someone slips their arms under me gently, lifting me from the grass and the faint flicker of old memories.

“Jesus. She’s cold as ice.”

Am I? I vaguely register the shiver that rushes through me, even though I don’t feel cold.

I don’t feel anything.

My teeth are chattering though. They clack together loudly, hurt my head and my jaw. I flex my swollen fingers and manage to open my eyes and look down at them.

They’re covered in blood.

I suck in a breath, an unsteady one that rattles through my lungs. I cough up gunk, and a broad hand smooths over my back.

“We need to get her inside.”

It’s Elias. It registers, finally, who has me in their hold. Who’s been speaking around me.

The Sinners. All three of them.

What are they doing here? How can they be here to help me? Why would anyone help me?

A flash of remembered desperation rises up in me, and I shift weakly in Elias’s arms. I need to get away. To stop them. To hurt them before they hurt me.

“Whoa, whoa.” Elias tightens his grip on me a little, hugging me tighter to his broad chest. I can feel his heart beating hard and fast against me, and I wonder why. What’s he afraid of?

“Calm down, Sparrow.” Gray’s voice is gentle, but there’s a roughness to it I don’t recognize. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Leftover panic and adrenaline are still buzzing through me, and I force my sagging eyelids to open. I crane my neck to look at Gray, intending to ask why the fuck I’m supposed to believe him of all people. He’s just as much of a piece of shit as Cliff. Just as bad as…

No. No he’s not.

Even I can’t claim that Cliff and Gray are remotely the same. Not after tonight. Gray has done a lot of shit, but he wasn’t the one who left me like this.

As that thought settles in, I stop trying to wriggle out of Elias’s hold. He’s got me cradled in his thick arms, and Gray and Declan both stand close by, watching me with worried expressions.

I try to breathe in a way that isn’t gasping for precious air. I try to stop shivering, but shudders wrack my body anyway.

“What happened?” Elias’s voice rumbles in his chest, a comforting vibration against my side.

What happened? The question echoes uncomfortably in my brain.

“C-Cliff.” My voice is rough, the word broken into pieces by my chattering teeth.

A silent ripple passes through the trio of men. The tension in Elias’s arms is mirrored in the expressions on his friends’ faces.

Gray’s nostrils flare as he takes a step closer, his eyes churning. “Did he rape you, Sophie?”

My body hurts. My hands are bloody. My tank top is gone—the shredded pieces must’ve fallen off my shoulders sometime before I passed out.

But no matter how beat up I am, I’m positive about one thing.