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“Okay.” I nod, because I know he’s right. About all of it. “Then can I crash with one of you guys?”
For the first time since I showed up at his parents’ house this morning, I see genuine humor in Declan’s eyes as he cracks a smile. “Aw, come on, Soph. I think we can do a little better than that.”
I frown in confusion, glancing from him to the other two men. “What are you talking about? What do you have in mind?”
As it turns out, what Gray and the rest of the guys have in mind is a lot more permanent than me crashing with any one of them in their dorm rooms.
Instead, they help me pack a large duffel bag and all of my art and school supplies before we climb into Gray’s car again and head off campus—to a house that they apparently now own.
It’s empty when we get there, but movers start bringing furniture and other things in.
“You… when did you get this? How?” I stare around me in shock, trying to absorb the fact that sometime between my arrival at Declan’s house and this moment, the guys bought this place.
Gray shrugs, as if it’s not really an incredible feat at all. “We talked about it before we headed to the police station. It just makes the most sense. All of us want to be with you, and we don’t want you to have to pick which dorm you want to stay in. You’re safer with all of us watching out for you, and with Cliff and Reagan on campus, I don’t want you sleeping anywhere near the dorms.”
Holy shit. He’s thought about this. They all have. As fast as it happened, it wasn’t some kind of impulsive snap decision. They’re really serious about it.
And although even as recently as a few weeks ago, I might’ve freaked out at the thought of moving in with the Sinners, I can’t find any of the panic I expect to feel inside my chest.
All I feel is… relief.
Relief that I’ll be close to them. That we won’t be separated. Not just for safety, but because the world seems right when we’re all together.
The place is huge, and way nicer than the dorms, which were already fancier than most places I’d ever lived before. It has five bedrooms, though I’m not sure how often I’ll actually be sleeping in my own unless they’re all away for the night—something I suspect won’t happen until Alan’s been taken down. There are several bathrooms, a large kitchen, a living room and dining room, and a broad balcony overlooking the backyard.
Between the sleek design of the place and the gorgeous furniture that keeps getting brought in, it’s definitely the nicest place I’ve ever lived, and it bowls me over.
I’ve seen Gray and Declan’s family houses. I know how rich they all are, but I’ve never seen them flex it like this, use their power to make something as big as this happen.
It’s mind blowing.
But if they can do this, I realize suddenly, if they can accomplish this all in one day because of their wealth and power, how much more can Alan do in a day?
Despite the safety and protection I feel with the Sinners on my side, I can’t help the ripple of fear that rushes through me.
10
I’m in the bunker again, only this time, I’m unrestrained. I’m not tied to a chair, because at this age, they don’t fear me. They barely speak to me, and when they do, it’s always with a dismissive, cool tone.
My body is small and frail, but my fighting spirit is still there, lurking under the darkness of bitterness and anger.
It doesn’t come out now. It won’t come out for several months, when I finally fight back and escape. But I can feel it in my veins, a restless fearlessness, like a lion that wants to attack.
The cement walls loom around me, but someone has tried to hide what an awful place this is by dressing it up to look like a regular bedroom. The small bed against one wall has a pink blanket on it, and there are a few stuffed animals resting against the pillows. A little woven rug covers the hard floor, and there are posters on the walls.
But I don’t know the people in the posters. I didn’t choose the stuffed animals. I don’t even like pink.
This room isn’t mine. I don’t belong here, no matter how often they tell me I do.
The door slams open, making me jump. That’s another reason I know this room isn’t mine. I don’t have any say about who comes in. I can’t keep anyone out, no matter how much I want to.
My jaw clenches as I take in the backlit figure of a boy—a boy who won’t leave me alone. He stalks into the room, and I catch the signature twist of his lips. It makes my insides churn, and my pulse picks up faster than a little rabbit running from the mouth of a wolf.
He’s the same age as me, or close. Barely older than me, barely eleven, and yet already such a monster.
Cliff’s little boy eyes gleam with cruel satisfaction when he sees my gaze fixed on him.
“Hello, Sabrina.”
