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 33

by Veronica Eden


  When he goes slack, I wait a few seconds more, then drop him to the floor. Then I’m on him, using my hands to finish the job. His unconscious face turns purple.

  “Fox, don’t,” Maisy calls. “Please don’t kill him.” She grunts, struggling against the bindings. “Just get me out of this fucking chair so we can leave.”

  My nostrils flare and I dig my thumbs harder into his jugular. I barely recognize my voice when words slip free. “He deserves it.”

  “Don’t,” she says again in a tight voice.

  With a bitten off snarl, I let go and kick the fucker in the side before I hurry to crouch at her side.

  “I’m sorry.” I frame her face, sweeping my thumbs across her tear-stained cheeks.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s our parents who brought this kind of danger here.”

  Her expression is grim and though she’s doing her best to remain calm, I can tell by the tremor in her limbs as I untie the rope that she’s seconds from her breaking point. I don’t know how long that sick asshole was tormenting her like that, assaulting her body for his own pleasure. My teeth grind so hard my jaw aches.

  Once the rope is loose enough, she curls into my chest with a small, anguished sound that cracks my heart in two. I fold her into my arms and stroke her tangled hair.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

  Her wrists are pink and raw where the brittle plastic ties kept her restrained the more she fought against them. I carefully slide a pocket knife with a serrated slope in the blade between her wrists and the plastic, cutting the bindings away. She rubs them, cradling them close to her chest.

  Cupping the back of her head, I pull her close and kiss her forehead.

  “Look out!” Maisy yells, pushing me off balance from my crouch so I sprawl to the floor. “He has a gun!”

  The thug lumbers toward us with an outraged bellow. His neck is red and angry from the wire and my hands, his eyes bloodshot where a vessel burst.

  “You’re dead!” he swears as he comes at me.

  “You first,” I spit.

  Scrambling back, I swing around onto my knees and launch at his lower body with all my might, upsetting his center of balance and tackling him. He crashes to the floor and we both struggle for the gun he tries to aim at me. I slam his wrist down on the dusty concrete and he spits in my face, swinging at me and catching the side of my head with his fist. It knocks me to the side, but the punch isn’t hard enough to do real damage.

  “Fox!” Maisy’s yell sounds to my left.

  “Don’t! Stay back!” I command.

  “Like hell!”

  The guy beneath me screams when she stomps on his hand while I grunt and rip the gun from him, using it to whip across his face to knock him out for a second time. I’m panting as I rise to my knees over his prone figure. Blood trickles from his temple from the force of the blow, but it’s not enough to sate my need to end him.

  “Did you kill him?” Maisy whispers.

  “No. He’s out cold.” I climb to my feet and tuck the gun into the back of my jeans. “Better fucking stay that way this time. You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come here.” When she’s close I kiss her, hands fisted in the back of her shirt. She makes a small sound and breaks away to bury her face in my chest. “You’re okay now.” I don’t want to ask, but I force the question past my lips anyway. “Did he…did he touch you anywhere else?”

  “No.” Maisy pulls back far enough to wipe beneath her eyes and shakes her head. “He tried to scare me, but I don’t think he was allowed to get away with too much on the off chance my mom was going to pay the ransom.”

  A relieved breath gusts out of me. “I subdued the others, but one got away before I snuck in. Eventually Stalenko Corp’s higher ups are going to find out when he comes back. Let’s tie him up like the rest and get the fuck out of here.”

  Maisy nods resolutely and picks up the discarded length of auto electrical wire. “I knew you’d find me.”

  “Always. I knew as soon as your text came through all autocorrected.”

  She curls her fingers around the wire, knuckles white. “Thank you.”

  Something in my chest shifts and expands. “You don’t have to thank me, Maisy. I love you and I’ll protect you.”

  She turns those beautiful hazel eyes on me, shining with a fresh bout of tears. “I love you, too.”

  Together we drag the thug across the room to a pipe running along the floor. She rifles through his pockets, retrieving her phone while I take out the zip ties I picked up and secure him to the pipe. I still want to kill him. More than that, I want to rip his skin off piece by piece and grind his bones to dust, but I need to get Maisy out of here.

  Thirty-Eight

  Maisy

  When we make it to Fox’s hidden motorcycle outside, I turn to him with my heart sitting in my throat. “I had everything under control.”

  He chuckles and scrubs a hand over his face, then tugs me into his arms and speaks against the top of my head. “I love you.”

  I breathe him in for a moment, letting his strength soothe away the last couple hours of horror. He holds onto me tightly as if he never wants to let me go. A lump forms in my throat. I don’t realize how much I’m shaking until he buffs his hands up and down my upper arms.

  “Come on. I need to get you back before the adrenaline crash hits and you’re not able to hold on.” Framing my face, he tilts it up and gives me a smile tinged in darkness. “Before today I would’ve tied you up to make sure you’d have to hold on, but I think we can save that for another day.”

  A snort jerks my head. I have to laugh, because if I don’t I’m on the brink of breaking down under the weight of it all. “You think?” My wrists still throb. The skin on my thighs is tender, putting off heat from rope burn. “Let’s go.”

  The drive back is a challenge. Riding a motorcycle after being banged up highlights every ache in my body with each small bump in the road. I press my cheek into Fox’s back and seek out the sensation of freedom that I love when we’re on the bike to keep my mind off everything else. Thankfully it’s not too far to his place.

  Once we’re at his converted warehouse, he sits me down on the same stool he used when I cleaned up his cuts after we were shot at. Those stormy blue eyes watch my expressions carefully as he checks me over. Physically, I’ll be fine. Some minor bruises, skin abrasions, and the rest of the sedative dose will fade with time. The lasting damage is all psychological.

  “I want to shower,” I say.

  No amount of strength of character or confidence in my body spares me from the mental horror I endured today. I can still feel his breath and disgusting hands on my skin, his rough grip lifting my shirt up to expose me, the sadistic way he laughed and got off on the power he held over me as I was tied up and unable to fight back.

  My skin feels dirty and I want to scrub at it until I wash it all away. It won’t take away the memory, but I won’t feel better until I can do something to wipe away the lingering sensations of the violation of my body.

  I never should have faced what I did today. Kidnapped. Held for ransom. Assaulted.

  Dad swore yesterday that everything they did was to protect us. Bullshit. If they wanted to protect us, they wouldn’t have welcomed that kind of danger into this town. Mom wouldn’t have waited so long to save me from the criminals she works with. For all I know she saw the photo of me unconscious and bound then went about her day, not caring what happened to her daughter. The read receipt is burned into my brain and there’s no coming back from that.

  “Come on,” Fox murmurs, taking my hand and leading me to the bathroom.

  He starts the water, testing the temperature on his wrist before turning to me. I strip out of my tank top and fling it on the floor. A fierce rumble makes my gaze dart to him. His attention is on my breast, on the fingerprint shaped red marks. He holds a hand out, but curls his fingers into a tight fist, his skin stretched so the scar on
his knuckles stands out.

  Breathe, I coach myself, drawing on a meditative headspace to keep myself from shaking apart at the seams. In a hurry, I shuck off my shorts and step under the hot spray of water.

  Fox turns to go. He promised he wouldn’t leave me alone. A broken, panicked noise escapes me and he’s back, jumping into the shower with me, still fully clothed.

  “Shh.” His arms hold me close while I cling to him, taking ragged breaths that make my chest heave. “I’m not going anywhere. I thought—I was going to give you privacy, but I’m here.”

  “Don’t,” I choke out.

  “I know,” he soothes in a jagged voice as he strokes my hair. “I promise that will never happen to you again.”

  We stay like that for a moment, his arms around me, keeping my trembling frame tucked against his chest. His clothes are soaked, the t-shirt sticking to his body while I stand there naked, half-wishing for the water to be scalding enough to burn the dirty layer of my skin off.

  Straightening my spine, I reach for the bar of soap on the ledge. It smells spicy with a hint of the ocean we both confessed to missing, like a forest meeting the shoreline. It’s Fox. I press it to my skin and start lathering. In a few movements I find myself scrubbing rough enough to chafe. I don’t realize I’m panting until he gently pries the soap from my death grip.

  “Let me.”

  Turning me around, he winds one arm around my middle and pulls me into his chest. I hold onto his arm to keep myself standing as he helps wash me. He doesn’t let me go, supporting my weight when I sag against him, keeping his face pressed to the side of mine. I let my eyes close and focus on him.

  The water shuts off and I crack my eyes open. He strips out of his wet clothes, the drenched material slapping to the floor. Stepping out, he offers a hand.

  Fox dries me off and sits me down on the edge of the bed. The shower helped to make me feel more like myself. After he pulls on a pair of briefs, he rummages beneath the platform he built for the mattress out of found materials and kneels in front of me.

  “Let me see your wrists.” His voice is low, gentle, but infused with the power of his command. I offer my hands to him. “This will help.”

  Producing a tube of lotion, he squirts some onto his fingers and rubs it into my wrists with slow circles. My lashes flutter and a soft sigh leaves me. When he finishes with my wrists, he moves on, applying lotion to the irritated red patches of my thighs where the rope keeping me in the chair scraped me raw.

  He glances up at the curious noise I make. “What?”

  “I didn’t think someone all rough and tough like you would bother with skincare,” I tease.

  Color tinges his cheeks and the corner of his mouth curls wryly. He scrapes his thumb nail over his lip and leers at me through his dark lashes. “It’s not for my face.” His brows lift and he traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth. “I didn’t touch other girls, but a man has needs, Maise.”

  It takes a minute for his meaning to register to my sluggish mind. “Oh. Ohh, okay. I feel you.” Smirking, I lean into him. “You and Righty? Same.”

  A husky laugh rumbles in his throat and he moves to my other thigh, taking his time to rub the lotion into my inflamed skin. As he cares for me, an intense wave of drowsiness has me swaying.

  “Lay down, baby.” He brushes damp tendrils of hair from my face and nudges me onto the bed. “I’ve got you.”

  I shift back, then freeze. “You won’t leave?”

  “No. I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

  He follows me, opening his arms once he’s settled. I burrow into them and breathe him in, nose tucked against the crook of his neck. He rubs my back in comforting circles.

  “Are you cold?”

  I shake my head. “Just hold me.”

  His arms cinch snugly around me. In his embrace, I’m safe, I’m loved, I’m protected.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, letting sleep claim me.

  As I doze, I’m vaguely aware of him murmuring to me. I don’t know what he says, but he never once leaves my side. He’s there for me.

  It’s dark when I feel lucid again. I don’t know if it was a lasting reaction to the sedative, the emotional overload, or a combination of it all, but when I wake up it’s like I’m coming out of an intense nightmare. My limbs are heavy and the aches in my body are more prominent. I wish I could just fucking forget it all. Lock it in a damn vault in my mind and never face it again. I release a groan and roll over to find Fox’s gaze on me in the dim shadows.

  “You’re awake,” he says.

  My cheek drags over his tattooed bicep beneath my head when I nod. He tucks my hair behind my ear, tracing the pads of his fingers down the side of my jaw.

  “What happens now?” I ask.

  He draws in a slow breath. “I know a guy not too far from here who has an endless supply of explosives. Well, Colt does. Part of his network. It’s a day’s drive away.”

  Phantom fingers squeeze my breasts too hard and air hitches in my throat. I picture fire and ash, imagine the man who took me screaming in agony while I watch his skin melt off his bones. For a second, I want it. It scares me I could feel so violently toward someone, but it doesn’t make this go away.

  “No. That makes us no better than them.”

  “I’m not a good man, Maisy.” The way he grasps my jaw with his entire hand is firm, but not enough to hurt me. His gaze bores into mine. “They hurt you today and they deserve to burn for it.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. The sinister darkness in his tone calls to a part of myself I’ve never been aware of before. Maybe it’s wrong to love this side of him, to know that he would destroy anything that dared hurt me. Maybe it’s not what society deems normal, but it’s me and it’s him. That’s all that matters to me.

  “Not everyone working at Nexus Lab is guilty. We can’t.”

  He sighs. “If the investigators don’t make a move soon, we’re doing this my way.”

  I concede. Days ago he was ready to walk away from this after he found the answers he was looking for about his parents. It’s because of me that we’re still seeing this through.

  “After it’s over, we’re putting this town behind us.” I shift closer when he buries his fingers in my hair and draws my forehead to his lips. “You and me.”

  “You and me,” he responds.

  Thirty-Nine

  Fox

  Standing out front of Nexus Lab to watch while law enforcement agency vehicles swarm the place is gratifying. The DEA and FDA special unit agents file in and out of the circus with boxes full of paperwork, computer towers, and panic-stricken employees who are having a hell of a Monday. My arm slides around Maisy’s waist to pull her against my side and together we wait behind the barricades for the big finale.

  I had Colt’s guy with explosives on call, ready to pay him as much as he demanded to clean him out, but they finally came through. Ethan Hannigan tipped us off from wherever his trail took him and we arrived before the rest of the numerous news crews did.

  It’s been three days since Maisy was taken to the abandoned warehouse. I drove by it while she was with her brother, unwilling to leave her alone still. It was cleared out, as I suspected. Stalenko Corp probably pulled back so their lawyers could do the heavy lifting in connection to Nexus Lab taking the fall. I only hope this will all be enough for them to feel pressure from federal investigators breathing down their necks so they can’t do this again.

  Maisy tried to call her mom once, but it went to voicemail. She hasn’t tried since. They’re done, I think. Whatever chance there was that she could have some kind of relationship with her parents died the day her mom allowed her to be kidnapped and did nothing when she was hit up for ransom.

  I can’t decide whether it’s worse to lose both parents in a suspicious accident, spend a decade believing they were innocent, only to find out they were far from it, or be forced to look them in the eye while they spend years controlling every move to maintain t
he wicked life they hide from their kids.

  Both scenarios fucking suck. At least we have each other to lean on when we’re bogged down by the misery of our shitty parents. Her friends are there for her. Thea bought her a journal after Maisy told her what happened and decided she didn’t want to see a shrink yet. I’ve caught her scribbling in it after meditating.

  “This is more people than I thought there’d be,” Maisy says at my side.

  “People love drama. They’ve come to see this madhouse so they can gossip about it when it’s on the news.”

  She hums in agreement.

  All around us, news anchors are describing the unfolding scene for the nightly lead in with the breaking story. It’s not only local stations, but national coverage reporting the downfall of Nexus Lab. I overhear one of them detailing connections to several prominent businessmen here and satisfaction swirls in my gut.

  We did this. We blew the lid off the deceitful underbelly of our corrupt town to expose the truth.

  It isn’t exactly what I hoped for when I came back to Colorado to seek retribution from the family that destroyed mine, but my hunt for revenge helped me find my way back to Maisy. I came here to ruin her life only to find out I still can’t live without her. Everything I endured was worth it to find happiness with her.

  For the longest time I thought we could never salvage the special connection we had as kids. I thought it died the same day my parents did. But I was wrong.

  Maisy is my kismet, the one I’m supposed to love.

  I thread my fingers through her hair, catching it in a loose grip. Using it for leverage, I angle her head back and hover my lips over hers. She gazes at me with passionate fire in her hazel eyes. It’s a beautiful sight. She’s more than the girl I fell in love with years ago and promised forever to. My wild daisy, the strongest fighter with a big heart and an adventurous spirit waiting to be let loose.

 

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