The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One

by J. E. Bradley

  I wish I could appreciate the fact that I’m alive, that my father, Derrick, and Jade will now get what they deserve, but I can’t stop bouncing between numbness and flashes of panic. I need to be with Wyatt. I have to be next to him, to know that he’s okay.

  “Please...take me to him.”

  Savannah

  Cool starchy sheets are tucked in at my sides, and I crack my eyes against the blistering morning light coming from the hospital room window. I feel like I have slept for days, but through the sleepy calm, I’m reminded of recent occurrences through the subtle aches in my body. My head pulses with a sudden pain I hadn’t been aware of before. My ribs ache with every draw of breath. My throat is sore and I lift myself up carefully.

  “You’re awake,” Elaina’s melodic voice greets me, and then I see that she’s sitting in a chair next to me. “Greta and Kaitlyn were here earlier. They’ll be back. Do you want them to pick something up for you? I’m sure they could grab a coffee or one of those Asian salads you like from the cafe?”

  “Where’s Wyatt?” I blurt. “Is he okay?”

  Elaina sits back in her chair and swallows.

  My heart drops, and I lurch out of my bed. I’m lucky that they’ve already taken out and bandaged my IV site. But I would have torn it out if it meant getting to him. I lope past a nurse and run to the reception, asking for his room number. The lady gives me an odd expression as she tells me ‘1508’, seeing as I’m in a hospital gown, and she promptly reaches for the phone. No doubt my nurse will be running for me soon.

  When I reach the room, I stand in the doorway for a second. He’s sitting up in his bed with a naked chest, bandaged side, and a tired look on his face. When he sees me, his eyes widen.

  “Savannah…” There’s my name. The way he says it is so delicious on his tongue.

  I step toward him with purposeful steps, reliving every nightmare from the previous night, getting flashes of it as I walk, and then wrap my arms around his neck.

  “I’m so sorry.” The words slip from my lips unbidden, a whisper against his skin. His male aroma fills my head, and I want to soak him up forever. Although he is still on medication for his wounds, he is relatively clear-headed when he says:

  “Don’t you dare say sorry. This is my fault. All of it,” he tells me.

  His dark hair is flat on his scalp, and his roguish face is marred with severity. I lean down to kiss him, and the kiss is full of sorrow. Full of aggressive grief and anger for everything we’ve gone through.

  Wyatt’s lips are supple and meet mine, but he is hesitant. He knows what I know, and that is that although we’ve bent the rules to make it work, bending rules can only last for so long.

  “They found the tapes, surveillance footage, and more. There were cameras in our fucking bedroom. They also found evidence of a history of murders,” he takes a breath, annoyed at the effort it takes to speak. “Apparently I wasn’t her first. She bounced around precincts, utilizing her position to single out men.”

  I listen, shock clamoring in my head.

  “I guess she told us, right? She’d been stalking me, used your dad to get closer to you, used Derrick to…” he looks away from me, and stares out the window. “I’m sorry. I can’t do anything to change what happened. I can’t even say that I’m faultless here. I’ve fucked up as a father and a husband monumentally. I wanted someone I should have never wanted, and let myself be with you when you should have never been burdened with any of this.”

  “Burdened?” I blanch white, suddenly irate. “The only burden here is the fact that life is cruel to people like us. So what Krista cheated on you? That wasn’t your choice. Do you know what was your choice? You stayed and tried to make it work until it didn’t anymore. You left the girl because of guilt. Did Krista leave Charles out of guilt? No. She stayed. She fucked you over and now you’re the one suffering for years? Is it all about you? No.”

  I sit back and fix him in a stare of iron. He’s not getting away with the martyrdom. Not anymore.

  “You know what else wasn’t your choice? The parenting plan. You think you’re the one that made Derrick into the monster he is? Not only are you a better example than Charles ever has been, but you barely had a chance seeing as Krista spit poison into his ear every time he’d visit you. I was there. I’d know.”

  “Savannah, you don’t know everything about the situation,” he says, lowering his brows.

  “Yeah? So what. I don’t need a play by play to know that Derrick is the one who made his own choices. Same with Krista. We’re our own people. Or, will you tell me it’s my fault my father was going to ship me off to be a prostitute in Dubai? Is it my fault he hit me?”

  “That’s not the same,” he argues.

  “Yeah, it is. And it’s not your fault Jade chose to stalk you. You know what is your fault?” I say, breathless from my speech. “It’s your fault that I’m in love with you. That I wish I could spend everyday with you until I’m dead. That we could make love and fuck in whatever way we want for as long as we want. It’s your fault…” I exhale, trying to fight off a round of angry tears. “It’s your fault that I feel like you’re the only safe person I have.”

  Wyatt’s lips are flattened into a hard line and he reaches out and cups my cheek.

  “If that’s my fault, then it’s your fault I feel the same about you.”

  I let out a shaky laugh and our foreheads join.

  “Fuck. You’re right,” he says.

  He re-grips his hand in my hair, his fingers parting through my dark locks carefully. He forces me to kiss him again, and I smile through our kisses. Hating that I know what will happen. Hating that he’s the one who taught me that I should stand up for what I need.

  “I’m going to leave Thornwood,” I say, pulling back. “Do you remember when you told me to do what I want to do for me, and not for anyone else?”

  Wyatt doesn’t seem surprised and instead sinks back against the white sheet. Maybe he’s seen it coming. Maybe we’ve both pondered the thought of what would happen after I graduated, both assuming different, opposing things. But I knew deep down what I needed, I just never was able to put it into words until now. Now, everything is open. There’s no longer a shroud of secrecy over our relationship, and for many reasons, this is a relief. Without the pressure to stay secret, we can actually talk about what we want to be or become.

  “I never expected you to stay here. I know you want more out of life than to be taken care of. You’ve always wanted freedom, and I wouldn’t dream of holding you back.”

  “But I don’t want to lose you,” I bite my lip, hot liquid welling on my lashes. “I don’t want to lose this.”

  “You’re not going to. I’ll still be here.”

  “Wyatt…” Waves of desolation crash over me, delivered brashly through his acceptance. He shouldn’t understand. He should try to make me stay. He should be selfish for once. But I know, unlike Mr. Pratt who’s suggested that our relationship is damned, that Wyatt is one of the most solid, steady, devoted people I know.

  “You don’t have to wait for me,” I say, forcing the words out as if they’re tearing me up from the inside out. “But, if you want to…”

  “Sav....honey. We still have a few months until graduation. Once you decide what you want to do I’ll back you. And, there’s a thing called facetime. Oh. And airplanes.” He smirks, his self-assured way of existing making my stomach drop.

  “Oh…” I laugh again. But there’s so much pain inside me. Most likely from the reality that is crashing all around us. The dull hospital room provides edges to the truth. That we’re in the aftermath now, and damage can still be done. I glance over my shoulder and realize that the nurse is waiting outside the doorway playing with her nametag, giving us our moment.

  “We can talk more soon. I’ve already called a lawyer. You should rest.”

  “You too,” I say, eyeing his wound.

  Savannah

  Four Years Later...

  Driving th
rough Thornwood, gazing off at the glittering ocean on the horizon through slats in the dense woodlands, is nostalgic. I drive past Thornwood High School for the memories, noting that there are a few new buildings, new plots of apartments, and suburban neighborhoods. Nerves sparkle through my belly as I glance at the address in my navigation, noting that my estimated time of arrival is in only ten minutes.

  I’d already swung by the office. Elaina, Kaitlyn, and Greta were also there. Our lunch was spent at the local cafe, where we laughed about the past and caught up on everything that’s happened in our lives since graduation.

  “Look at you Miss Cali,” Elaina wiggled her eyebrows at me and my navy blue skirt and jacket, figure-hugging white tank beneath, and white pumps. She tugged me into a sharp side hug before doing the same to Greta and Kailtyn. I exchanged compliments and hugs with the other two, my cheeks stuck in a perma-smile.

  “Can you believe we’re all here? This is crazy,” Kaitlyn said, giggling into her mimosa. “I never would have thought.”

  “It was the offer that sold you on it, wasn’t it Savannah?” Greta snickered. “Elaina drives a hard bargain.”

  “I wanted to come back,” I told them. For more reasons than one. “But yeah, seeing as Elaina opened up her own newspaper company, and I majored in journalism?” I laughed, taking a sip of my drink. “It was a done deal. So, how has Everrise News been doing? Sounds like you’ve made a few high-profile people mad, which is always a good start.”

  “We’re a beast, and growing. I had to have you here,” Elaina told me, granting me a satisfied smile after a bite of burger. Her silky blonde hair is loose around her shoulders, and she winked.

  “We’re all glad you’re here. Greta is our go-to attorney and helps me with all the legal aspects of running the biz, and Kaitlyn was my only reporter until you showed up. Now you guys can work together on articles and all that,” she added.

  “I’m glad too,” I agreed, wrapping my fingers around my glass.

  God, but I’m nervous. Not for working with my three friends. We’ve kept in contact through the years, relaying minimal information every few months, and now it’s ideal that Elaina had the genius idea of opening her own newspaper company. She’s always been sharp-witted and entrepreneurial. No, what I’m nervous for lies at the end of the navigation route on my phone.

  But it’s not a what, it’s a who.

  Wyatt Wells Draper has expanded his auto business into the nearby cities. Draper Auto is a common business name in the surrounding northwest, and now he’s able to hire people to run his shops for him. I get flashbacks from years ago, recalling the sweet times we had together before I left for university. He fucked me long and hard as if he was worried I’d forget his cock, and he wanted to leave the imprint of him in my pussy. It wasn’t long before his name had been cleared, and the authorities had determined that they could do nothing about our relationship.

  During my time in California Krista sent me an email, one filled with regret and shame. Her son wouldn’t be out of jail for quite a while, and although she visited him often, the intense sessions she had with him across the plexiglass left her reeling for days after. She told me she’d recognized a lot of what she’d done had perpetuated the problems, how her bitterness toward Wyatt damaged Derrick, and that if she could take back cheating on him with Charles that she would. She made it her mission to speak highly of him and refer people to him, and finally, in the tail end of her message, told me that if I ever returned to Thornwood that I would be welcomed with open arms.

  During my rendezvous I drove past Wyatt’s old house too, the sparse grass now fully green and shorn down against the earth. I know that he still owns it and that the people who stay there are renters. But Wyatt spent a lot of his time fixing up the house with Nuke at his side while I was gone.

  We kept in contact for two years, but the last two proved difficult. I’d send him a text here and there, and he’d email me about what he was doing with the auto shops, the new properties he was building on, and his plans for the future. I think we always knew deep down that we’d find each other again, but the stretching of time changes people. I’m no longer the innocent girl I was when I was eighteen, and I wonder what he will think when he sees me. When he really sees me, because there’s no doubt in my mind the second I step before him he’ll be able to analyze and decrypt every new part of me, and then he gets to choose whether he likes it or not.

  Maybe he won’t like it. Maybe everything I’ve worked for and have become will be a turnoff. It was hard to stay in touch with both of us having busy lives, doing what we needed to do each day. There was never much time for intimacy. The rare times that we did sext or use facetime, I think we both left with melancholy aches in our chests. At least, I know I did. Probably because the pleasure couldn’t compete with the growing pain of the loss that I felt.

  I drive up a winding dirt road, pine and fir trees clouding the sky from my view. Wyatt’s home is in the depths of the forest, and I see this as fitting. He’s always loved solitude. The ability to be separate from the rest of the world.

  When his home comes into view, my stomach drops. Wow.

  The home is nearly a mansion, a massive structure built of chestnut and black planks with a modern metal flat roof. A giant garage is open, showing off an array of sporty cars and his old red truck. I roll my eyes, wondering if he’s left it open on purpose. He’s got to feel good about his wealth, and I can’t deny that I’m extremely happy for him. He’s worked hard to get where he is. He’s now thirty-eight years old and has constructed an empire. Any man or woman would be proud of that.

  I park my 2018 Toyota Camry on the concrete outside of his garage and listen to the settling of my engine as I take it all in. My skin is tingling with excitement and fear. I glance at myself in the rearview mirror, wishing I’d redone my makeup after lunch. My hair lays in halfhearted curls down my back, and my lashes have clumped from the teary-eyed moments between Elaina and I as we talked about what happened all those years ago. I swipe a bit of lip pink gloss onto my lips before popping out of the car.

  Drops of rain begin to pelt against the earth, and I quicken my steps to the front door.

  It opens before I’m able to knock.

  My stomach drops and flutters, and every brain cell I have is tossed out the window when I see him. He stands there, every bit as tall, every bit as effortlessly sexy. Hazel eyes trip over my heels, my skirt, my jacket, my hair, and then my face—locking onto me in near primal fixation. I allow myself to inspect him too, noticing the lazy mussed hair, his cropped beard, the broadness of his shoulders, the tenseness of his stance.

  “Savannah.” He inclines his head as if we’re business partners or something.

  “Uh...Wyatt,” I respond as he waves me inside.

  I shrink into myself and follow him into the dark entryway. His home mirrors the exterior colors, dark wood and black furnishings making up the theme. He even has art on his walls, and I find myself twirling in a circle before I’m being crushed from behind.

  Wyatt’s arms snake around me, gathering me up so that he breathes against my hair. He keeps me in place, holding me exactly where he wants me. I gasp, stunned and unable to know what I should do except for melt against him. His front is flush against my back, and as if from muscle memory, my body reacts by pressing back into him.

  “Took you long enough,” he whispers against my hair, and I let out a tortured breath.

  “Please…” I say, not knowing what I’m asking for. Because there are a million things I want to say, but only one thing my body craves and has craved, for years.

  “You’re mine, Savannah,” he says, nearly growling the words. “God, I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

  His embrace is like coming home. It’s like returning to a place that will always, endlessly, be familiar and good.

  “I took the job at Everrise News,” I say. “I’m staying…” My voice cracks.

  “Why did you come here, Savanna
h?” He asks me, using one hand to push open my jacket and trace his fingers over my collarbone. “I told you if you came I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Not with you.”

  “I wanted to see you,” I express, taking deep breaths as his fingers send electric sensations down my body. “I had to.”

  “And what is it you wanted to see?” he asks, working his fingers under the edge of my tank top. “Come on, honey. I’ve waited a long time. I can take rejection. Tell me to stop.”

  My thoughts are spinning. My body is enlivened with sensations.

  “I wanted to see if you still wanted me,” I say. “We have a lot to talk about…at least if we talk then you won’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “Regret?” He hisses in my ear. “I told you before, I’d be here. I was building all of this for you. I don’t have anyone else I want. I won’t ever want anyone else. You’re mine.” His hand brushes against the top of my breast, and he pauses there above my nipple, gauging my reaction. Never wanting to do more than I’m comfortable with.

  I lean back against him, shutting my eyes and relishing every small touch.

  “I’ve always felt alone. The entire time I was gone, I wanted one thing,” I tell him, resting against his firm body. Feeling like a princess draped against her prince. I want him more than I could ever express, and I did what I needed to do to feel whole inside. I made my own name, discovered myself, and became independent. The only thing I’m missing is him. He’s the last piece of the puzzle. “I’ve always needed you to cure my loneliness. To fill every part of me that was missing.”

  Wyatt lets his fingers slide against my nipples, and they harden. Pricks of pleasure thread down my body, and my pussy responds eagerly. He works them and then shoves down my bra and tank so that he has access to them.

  “Oh Sav,” he croons against my ear. “Look at you. You’re fucking beautiful.”