How Sinners Fight - Eva Ashwood Page 0,16

many times in the past couple months since I’ve known him has Gray been there for me?

After Caitlin and her cadre of bitches tried to fuck with me, after Cliff tried to rape me. After my drawings were torn apart, just like my soul.

I don’t think, I just act. Without hesitation or thought, I grasp Gray’s chin gently and guide his face to mine, standing on my tiptoes as I press my lips to his. Maybe it’s insane to even try, but I want to kiss away all the pain and hurt I see inside of him. Just put a band-aid on it for a little while, just numb it for the time being.

“I don’t think you're as big of an asshole as you think you are,” I murmur, my voice low.

His eyes are stormy, as if he’s still battling with himself. But his grip tightens on my hips as he tugs me closer. His nose skims the line of my neck as he drops his head, wrapping his arms around me.

I can feel him sigh, as if just that small gesture has brought him a little bit of peace. His soft murmur brushes my ear.

“I hope you’re right, Sparrow.”

5

Max wasn’t kidding about inviting herself over to Gray’s place. Over the next several days, she comes to visit me often. Elias and Declan come too, when they can.

Max’s family is back in Boston and she won’t be able to go home to visit them, but Elias and Declan have some family “obligations” around the holidays. I don’t quite know what that means, but from the way their eyes roll when they mention it, I’m guessing it’s not anything fun.

From what Gray has said, it’ll be a lot of schmoozing with work friends of their parents, attending holiday parties that are more about business networking than anything else, and generally having to keep up appearances and uphold the family name. It sounds pretty fucking awful, which explains why Gray doesn’t seem all that upset that his parents took off and left him on his own.

With them gone, he’s free to do whatever he wants—even if what he wants to do is take care of a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who’s recovering from a head injury.

Unfortunately, despite the progress I’m making in my recovery, the memories of that night at the party still haven’t returned.

I’ve stopped trying to force it. If they come back, they come back. If they don’t, they don’t. All I know is that some freshman girl found me at the base of the stairs in the basement, and even though it pisses me off to feel like there’s something I’m still missing, letting myself brood over it is pointless and frustrating.

So instead, I’ve been sketching. I don’t have my paints with me—those are still back at the school—but it’s been nice to get something out of my head and onto paper. It doesn’t matter how it’s getting out, just that the thoughts and shapes and colors are flowing out of my head, heart, and hands.

I’ve been drawing since I woke up this morning. I haven’t even stopped to eat, and I find myself in some half delirious, dream-like state as I sketch with the charcoal pencil I found in my book bag the other day. I’m growing to like the way the dark charcoal smudges my fingertips and palms as I work. I like the way the harsh lines on the page soften with just a brush of my fingers.

My mind wanders as I work, and as they do so often these days, my thoughts land on the Sinners. The men who spent a good part of last semester trying to drive me out of the school and make me miserable have now become the people who look out for me, who kept me from going into massive medical debt. Who care for me.

I still don’t believe it.

I still don’t want to believe it.

Sometimes, when Elias is flirting with me, when Declan and I share those moments between music and a joint, when Gray and I find ourselves wrapped up in each other—those moments I think it could be real. Those are the moments when I let go just a little bit, when I think that maybe it wouldn’t be bad to let them in, to let them claim a place in my heart.

But I know what it’s like to have good things taken away from you. I know what it is like to