Savage Wilder: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 4)

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Savage Wilder: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 4) Page 15

by Veronica Eden

“Chief. Mrs. Landry, you look beautiful tonight,” Sam greets, saving me for last. His voice drops lower. “Maisy.”

  I watch in horror as he shakes Dad’s hand. Boyish dimples appear beside his broad smile as he puts his hand at the small of my back without my permission.

  I throw an accusing glare at Mom, but her expression says it all—do not make a scene.

  Road trip. Road trip. Road trip.

  It’s worth it.

  Gritting my teeth, I shove down the urge to throw Sam’s hands off of me. I wish Holden didn’t have a paper due for a summer class so I wasn’t here alone. Actually, I wish I could’ve done Holden’s paper for him so he could be here, because at this rate I’d much rather stay home doing homework than sit through this torture. Mom and Dad finally got what they’ve always wanted from me. Who knew all they had to do was trap me at a public place with a douchebag almost-boyfriend?

  “Shall we?” Dad suggests, guiding Mom inside.

  Sam follows suit, nudging my back. I shoot him an unimpressed look, chanting about my road trip in my head. My feet feel like lead blocks as I trudge into the restaurant.

  Of course Mom picked the most upscale establishment in town to set the stage for this puppet show. The mayor and his wife are dining at their table in the prime corner booth. Lucas’ parents, the Saints, are nearby. So is Connor’s mom that he doesn’t talk to, the city council chair. I hear she’s been angling for the mayor’s office if her run for senate doesn’t work out.

  Every prominent face of the elite and powerful in town fill the steakhouse and they don’t miss Mom and Dad’s arrival. Several of them wave, or stop us to say hello while we’re escorted to our table by a host. This is how the upper echelon of Ridgeview works. They all rub elbows with each other and pour on the smarmy charm, trading favors and securing deals outside of their offices. It makes my stomach turn, but when I take a step back from the mayor’s table, I only put myself more soundly in Sam’s embrace.

  As we finally take a seat, I’m directly across from Dad and everything I’ve read up on Fox comes rushing back. Anger sparks to life in my chest and I use the menu folio as a cover to peer at my father over the top edge without him noticing.

  He’s aged, but maintains the handsomeness of his younger years, making him look distinguished, like someone who belongs in his position in the police department. Like someone who should be trustworthy that upholds the integrity of the law. Instead of the warmth of when I was a little girl, his clear blue eyes have become sharp, and his mouth sets into a more natural frown these days. Now all I see is the imposing man meant to protect this town.

  But how much protecting is he really doing if police reports are suspiciously missing information?

  The time he and Fox’s mom took the three of us to an amusement park for the day flits across my memories. He was always ready to get us to smile, whatever it took. I still don’t get how the guy who used to fling tiny bites of food in our old kitchen for Holden and I to practice catching in our mouths is the same man who could put Fox in foster care. That’s not the man who raised me and I don’t know how to process it.

  Distrust tugs at my senses as I watch Dad’s tight smile while Mom asks Sam about his college plans.

  “University of Illinois in Chicago? How wonderful,” she praises. “Maisy has an early acceptance to Northwestern University.”

  “You must be proud.” Sam shoots me a smirk that’s supposed to be nice. I want to punch it. He drapes his arm across the back of my chair, playing with my hair. “Northwestern isn’t far from where I’ll be. Same city.”

  “It’s not,” Mom agrees with a calculating gleam in her eyes. “You’ll be able to visit each other without having to carry on your relationship long distance.”

  “Relationship?” I blurt.

  That wasn’t on the table. I will not sit here while my parents basically set me up in an arranged situation with Sam for the sake of my road trip. Literally, fuck that. I’ll go on my road trip without their permission and give them two big middle fingers as I drive west without ever looking back. Screw college, screw their life plans and expectations, screw everything.

  “I’m just glad I won’t have to be far from you, beautiful,” Sam murmurs, taking my hand and bringing my knuckles to his mouth.

  It takes a monumental effort not to curl my lip at him. I succeed—barely—but I can’t control the way my spine snaps straight. Sam notices, his eyes narrowing slightly. Seriously, how can he sit here putting on this nice guy act for my parents after the crap he said to me?

  I’m sick of it by the time our salad course is cleared. There are only so many thinly veiled comments about our future together that I can stand before I’m on the verge of screaming in the middle of the restaurant. Bet Mom would love that.

  Pushing back from the table with a graceful motion instead of the hard shove I want to give, I turn to Sam. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?”

  The arrogance in his gaze mocks me. Asshole. He checks with my parents before answering, making me fume even more.

  He waits for Dad’s nod before he finally answers. “Sure thing, beautiful.”

  “Excuse us.”

  I don’t wait for my parents to respond before I leave the table. My simple, but elegant dress swishes with each purposeful stride to freedom. It’s a pretty shade of blue with thin straps that braid together in the back, but I wouldn’t have picked it up for myself, preferring to shop vintage when I can. My style drives Mom crazy because I’m always in what’s comfortable, like my workout clothes, or my favorite second-hand finds instead of the designer labels she wants me to wear.

  The summer sun is just dipping behind the Rockies when I burst out onto the terrace in front of the steak house. It’s chillier than earlier, the cooler evening air prickling across my skin. I rub my arms as Sam strolls out behind me, relaxed with a crooked grin and his hands in his pockets.

  “You can wipe that smug look off now,” I tell him. “There’s no one around to watch the show.”

  He purses his lips like he’s considering it. “I don’t think so. I’m getting what I wanted.” He closes the distance between us, snagging my waist before I can step out of his reach. He traps me against his body and murmurs in my ear in a low seductive tone that makes my skin crawl. “And if you play nice, I’ll give you what you want, little slut. I’ve as good as got your daddy’s permission to fuck you, so you’re not getting away this time. No friends to step in for you, so just bend over and take it, yeah?”

  “Get the hell off me,” I snap, stepping on his toe hard to get him to release me.

  “Ow! You bitch!”

  Fury burns through me, hot and blinding. He clearly didn’t learn the lesson Devlin and Connor inflicted on him. Screw peace and love in his case. He hasn’t changed at all.

  I stab my finger into his chest. “Tonight means nothing, got it? I’m only here so I can go on my road trip before my parents trap me in the life plan they’ve laid out for me.” I look him up and down with disgust. “And if you ever think I’d let you touch me after calling me a cocktease and slut shaming me, you’re dead fucking wrong. I will never let you touch me.”

  “You’re the one who’s wrong about that. They said you were easy and like it rough.” He raises his hand to hit me, spewing vile bullshit as he swings. “I’ll make you mine and have you screaming my name so loud—”

  The blow doesn’t come. I didn’t realize I closed my eyes when I braced for the impact because I couldn’t dodge out of the way, but as I open them Fox stands between me and Sam, digging his fingers into Sam’s arm hard enough it looks like he’s seconds from breaking the wrist if he squeezes harder. Sam’s mouth hangs open in shock because Fox seemed to materialize out of the shadows with barely any sound.

  Relief and annoyance spiral through me. On one hand, this is my fight and I will handle it myself. It wasn’t cool when Devlin and Connor stepped in to defend my honor at the movies, and the same applies when it’s Fox. On the other, a
baser part of me is dancing around at his rescue.

  “If you ever raise a hand to her again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Fox growls in a deadly undertone. His whole body is tensed for a fight, like a predatory animal ready to spring free of its cage. “There won’t be any piece of you left for anyone to find.” His grip tightens and Sam releases a pained groan as Fox leans in, speaking through clenched teeth. “I will make you disappear.”

  God, why does hearing him threaten Sam like that make my heart race and heat throb between my legs?

  Seventeen

  Fox

  I had to cut in. It’s lucky I was parked in a discreet spot on my Harley, waiting to pick up a Nexus Lab employee ID badge at the back of the restaurant from a waiter I bribed to steal it for me. Maisy didn’t notice me at all. The minute I saw her come out, followed by the guy she swore wasn’t her boyfriend while I had my fingers buried deep inside her, possessiveness and protectiveness rushed through me. It’s exactly why I’ve been avoiding her once Colton confirmed she made it back to Ridgeview.

  Seeing the douchebag all over her drove fire into my blood, but the second he raised his hand to her, I was off my bike and catching his arm before he could slap her faster than I’ve ever moved in my life.

  Maisy hovers behind me, releasing a tense breath. I grind my teeth. It doesn’t bother me for her to see the true monster I’m capable of being, but a weak part inside of me that refuses to be stamped out flares with worry that she’ll finally run away.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Fuck no, you’re about to break my arm, you psycho,” Blake bleats, contorting his body to get away.

  With a grumble, I put more pressure on the tendon beneath my thumb. The corner of my mouth kicks up at the pained sound he makes, twisting to find relief that isn’t coming. Levi taught me every trick he knows to make someone fucking hurt.

  “I wasn’t talking to you, shithead.” My gaze moves back to Maisy, waiting for her answer.

  “I’m fine.” She steps forward. “But I had this, you didn’t have to—”

  “I did.”

  There’s no room for argument in my bitten off response. The days spent avoiding her haven’t changed a damn thing, the need filling my chest still very much alive. When it comes down to it, I won’t let her get hurt. I’ll protect her. It’s instinctive, soul-deep, and undeniable.

  The flood gates that kept these feelings at bay during the years I spent hating her with every breath have cracked and crumbled. They’re open and there’s no going back.

  Maisy is mine, even when I can’t have her. She’s always been mine.

  And I’ll be damned If I ever stand by and allow another man to lay a hand on her like this fucker tried to. I wasn’t kidding when I threatened him with death for touching her. That’s how far I’ll go for the people I want to keep safe.

  The moments of Blake lifting his hand to smack her fly through my head again, and with a savage growl I maneuver his wrist to a painful angle.

  “Dude!” he shrieks, free hand scrabbling uselessly at my leather jacket.

  “Okay, scary tough guy, enough,” Maisy grits out. “I appreciate your help, but I can take care of my own problems.”

  “No, daisy,” I mutter, dragging Blake by my hold on his wrist so I can step closer to her. Flowers and coconuts touch my sense of smell and my mouth quirks up at the sides. I bend my head down so she can hear my low promise. “He wanted to touch you. That makes this my problem, too. You’re my problem.”

  Her breath catches as her eyes fly up to meet mine. The seriousness evident in my gaze makes her lips part. My attention falls to her mouth and an intense yearning to kiss her right now pours through me.

  God, I want to steal her away, put her on the bike behind me, take her back to our tree to pin her against it like before while I peel this dress up, and—

  “How touching,” Blake snarls, breaking the moment. He struggles to escape, but I have a good grip on him. “Is it the leather that does it for you? His motorcycle? You hide it well, pretending you’re this perfect ideal. What will your daddy say when I tell him?”

  “Tell him what?” Maisy cuts him off with a glare. She holds out her arms. “This is the real me. You have no idea what I’m really like because you didn’t want to get to know me. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks of me. I thought you wanted to be my friend, but you’re such an asshole, Sam.”

  He releases a caustic laugh. “Friend? Bullshit, I just wanted to fuck you after all those rumors that you finally stopped being such an uptight good girl. That’s the only reason I was nice to you, I fuckin’ earned the right to—”

  Before he can spew more shit, she cocks her arm back and punches him. Blake can’t move far thanks to my iron grip on him, so he takes the full force of her fist to his cheek with a groan. Laughter puffs out of me at the fierce expression on her face.

  “Like hell you earned anything with me, you entitled dick,” Maisy says furiously. “What I do with my body and who I decide to do it with is my business, not yours. So stop trying to comment on it like you have any right to my body because of some fucked up notion you got in your head that if you were nice to me I’d reward you.”

  “You should use your whole body. Turn your hips and torso with your momentum,” I suggest, raking my gaze over her.

  “What?”

  She turns to me, still spitting mad. It’s a damn good look on her, sending another bolt of heat shooting to my groin.

  “Your form is good, but you’re smaller than him with less muscle tone to power your hits.” Her eyes narrow dangerously, and another chuckle leaves me. “I said less tone, not that you aren’t strong.” A beat passes as I take her in. Every stunning inch. I can’t hide the reverence in my voice. “I know you’re strong. If you do it that way, you’ll pack a harder punch without sacrificing speed.”

  Her eyes soften and a pretty pink color tinges her cheeks at the compliment. I swallow back the happy rumble that starts climbing my throat, cutting it off before it can escape. She keeps making me forget, drawing me in with magnetic force to something I can’t have.

  “I can’t believe you’d rather spread your legs for this bad boy act, slu—”

  We both release irritated sounds. Blake doesn’t get to finish, breaking off into a scream when I twist his arm in my punishing hold, yanking hard to stretch it, and then angling up until there’s a sickening pop. A vicious grin crosses my face as he stumbles away from us in agony.

  “Holy shit,” Maisy whispers, staring wide-eyed at the sight of Sam Blake’s dislocated arm.

  This time she doesn’t look ready to run. There’s no fear in her hazel eyes, only a bright intensity that echoes the violence brimming in me.

  “What the fuck?!” Blake yells, trying to cradle his injured limb. “You—Your dad is inside. When I get him and report you for assault, it’s over for you, Wilder.”

  I stare at him with an unwavering threat that makes him freeze. “Fuck off, Blake, before I do something more serious to your car than making sure it doesn’t start the next time you get in it.” When I take another step toward him, he scurries backward like the coward he is. “A dislocated arm will be the least of your worries. Be glad I didn’t break it.”

  “Get out of here,” Maisy says. “And don’t ever come near me again, or I’ll file a restraining order for harassment.”

  Blake looks between both of us standing side by side and mumbles, “Screw this.”

  Then he leaves us alone in front of the restaurant in the fading twilight. I turn back to her, unsure of what I should do or say. It’s unlike me. I swallow as my head fully empties for the first time in a long time. She looks beautiful tonight, her soft light brown hair framing her face and skimming the bare skin of her shoulders. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and thread through her hair.

  “Next time, you need to leave it to me.”

  I blink out of my stupor. “Not happening.”

  Her lips purse and she cr
osses her arms. “Yes it is. I don’t want you to fight my battles for me. I appreciate the help, and the…” She trails off as a flush creeps into her cheeks. Coughing, she darts her gaze away, brushing her fingers over her leather bracelet. “The thing you did. Not that I think violence is the answer, even though I decked him. I mean, he deserved it by that point,” she hastily tacks on, throat working as her lashes lower. “But I don’t need a man to save me, you feel me? I can stand up for myself.”

  Fuck me. A rush of heat races through my body. Maisy is turned on by what I did to him. I drag my teeth over my lower lip and file that away to fantasize about later—the only way I’ll let myself have her. In my fantasies, I don’t run the risk of her betraying my trust.

  “Let’s get one thing straight here.” I step close enough that the soft material of her dress brushes against my chest. Grasping her chin between my thumb and finger, I tilt her face up. “I have no problem with a woman fighting her own battles, but don’t expect me to stand idly by if I’m around. Either I show you how to protect yourself, or I do it for you. Like I said, you’re my problem. So if someone threatens you, I will step in to take care of it.”

  Her hazel eyes are luminescent, almost gold in the amber glow the restaurant casts off. Her breathing turns shallow and her pupils dilate at my dominant tone. For a beat, she looks at my mouth with so much longing, all I want to do is crash my lips against hers.

  “Even if the threat is you?” Her voice is soft and alluring, but her eyes harden when I begin to close the small distance between us to claim her mouth. “Or do you not count in taking responsibility for your actions because of double standards? That would undermine every sexy word that came out of your mouth.”

  Well, shit. She’s got me there.

  “You’re right,” I rasp, caressing her bottom lip with my thumb.

  Now that she’s safe, I can walk away. I need to, before I slide further down the treacherous slope and do something stupid again, like kissing her within an inch of her life.

 

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