How Sinners Fight - Eva Ashwood Page 0,50
let him in again. I can’t let him in again.
I can’t let him ruin me again.
I struggle against his hold. “Fuck you,” I rasp through gritted teeth. “I’m not letting you fuck with me again, you—”
He pushes back harder, straining to keep me contained. “I was trying to keep you safe,” he repeats hoarsely. “You don’t understand. I had to make a choice. And I did. Even if I hated it, it was the only choice I knew would keep you safe.”
“Then fucking enlighten me, Gray,” I bite out. “Because none of this seems like keeping me safe. It seems like you being a controlling asshole who likes to fuck scholarship girls then dump their asses as soon as they start messing with your social status.”
He has the decency to cringe, but his voice stays distant, cold, almost as if he doesn’t want to feel the weight of his words as he speaks.
“You don’t know how much influence Cliff’s family has in our circle. You haven’t been here long enough to know that his family has the power to destroy people with barely a twitch of their finger, and he’s threatened to use that power to destroy you.”
My heart thuds in my chest so hard I know Gray can feel it against his chest—because I can feel his heart too, responding to mine.
No. Don’t fucking let him back in.
“Cliff can ruin your life in ways you can’t even imagine, Sparrow.”
There’s sorrow in Gray’s voice, and I push at him again, needing to get away from his body, his scent, his words.
He doesn’t let me go.
“My family is powerful too. Wealthy and well connected,” he continues, his knee brushing between my thighs as he pins me against the wall. We’re both breathing hard, like two animals who have stopped fighting momentarily but are still circling each other, senses alert. “But Cliff’s parents are even more connected. They’ve got sway with just about everybody who matters in this town. I can try to keep you safe, but there’s no way I could be sure Cliff wouldn’t find a way around me and hurt you anyway.”
His face is barely inches from my face, his eyes pleading with me, begging me to hear him out, to listen.
To believe him.
“So I made a deal with him,” Gray says, his voice softening a bit. He doesn’t press into me as hard, but his gaze still pins me in place. “Cliff said if I could get rid of you within two weeks of school starting, he would back off and let you live your life in peace.”
My heart is at war with itself right now. What he’s saying doesn’t make sense, but the way he’s looking at me—fuck, he looks so goddamn sincere. So torn to shreds. So wrecked.
“He would have come after you, Sparrow,” he murmurs, and I turn my face away from his touch as his fingertips brush against my jaw, his eyes watching the movement with an intensity that I know all too well. “More than just bullying. He would have wrecked your life, put you in jail, or worse.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” My voice shakes a little, fury and something else filling each syllable. “You keep saying he could’ve destroyed me. Put me in jail. What the hell does that mean?”
“Does the name Brody McAlister mean anything to you?”
I flinch at the sound of my ex-foster father’s name. My gaze snaps back to Gray’s face, my eyes narrowing. “If you’re asking me that, then you know it does.”
“Yeah.” He sighs, and I notice for the first time how pale his face is, and how shadows seem to gather under his eyes. Has he looked like that this whole semester? And I’ve just been too pissed at him to notice? “His wife was named Melissa, but I’m sure you know that too.”
“I do.” I freeze, my brows pulling together. Gray and I are still pressed up against the wall, but I’ve stopped trying to shove him away. “Wait, was? What are you…?”
“She died. A few months ago.”
I blink, stunned to find out that my foster mother is gone. I was never close with her, so I guess I’m not surprised I didn’t hear about it. I liked her better than Brody, but I also hated that she married a lech and turned a blind eye to the way he treated me.
“So what?” I ask. I’m sure my words sound callous, but I don’t fucking understand how we jumped from talking about