Page 17 of Savage Wilder (Sinners and Saints 4)

His grin stretches and he gestures to my crystal bracelet as he sets down the hammer on the counter. “What happened to all that peace and love zen hippie shit?”

A smile threatens to break free, but I keep my expression serious to sell our usual song and dance. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Won’t you two ever learn to play nice?” Thea asks fondly. “You’re my two favorite people in the world.”

“We just like to tease, sunshine.” Connor draws her close for a kiss that makes her melt in his arms. He pulls back and smirks at the expression on her face. “She’s family. A little ball busting is healthy.”

He means it, too. Their group of friends that has absorbed me as a package deal with Thea consider themselves a family, one they chose. The guys can be somewhat intimidating with how intense they all are, but deep down they’re good. They each love their partners and they’re fiercely protective—that’s good enough in my book to vibe with them.

“Oh, Dev got back to me in the group chat.” He shows Thea his phone. “His summer break from college starts next Friday, but Oakridge College doesn’t break until a few days after. He’s going to wait until Blair, Gemma, and Lucas are done, then they’ll all drive back to town together.”

Out of all their friends, Thea and Connor both opted out of college. They don’t need it when Thea’s been baking her whole life and Connor is a loaded savvy computer nerd. The dude made bank because of a security app he created.

“Sounds good. Fam picnic in our favorite spot once they’re all back?” Thea suggests.

“You know it, baby.”

Connor steals another kiss while I grab my phone to change out the playlist. A text notification pops up at the top of the screen, sinking my stomach. Mom. My allotted amount of freedom is up for the day.

Mom: You have 15 minutes to get home before I have your father trace your location and pick you up.

“Shit,” I say under my breath. It grates on my nerves the way she summons me. I can feel the damn bars of my cage slamming down. “I’ve gotta go. Sorry, girl. I’ll see if I can come back tomorrow so we can finish painting, okay?”

Thea gives me an understanding look and I shrug. She knows my parents are overbearing. One of the reasons we bonded so easily as friends was because we both could commiserate over nosy mothers. She’s managed to make peace with her mom, but I don’t see that in my future. Not with how mine treats me like a doll—something to look at, a pretty prop to keep her reputation shining, but back on the shelf I go when I don’t meet her expectations.

I hug Thea goodbye and fist bump Connor before heading out.

Lately it seems like it’s more often than not she exerts control over me. At least last year I was allowed a longer leash.

Then again, that was before my parents knew Fox was back in town. Now I can’t breathe without them needing to know about it.

The door slams behind me and I tense as it reverberates off the cream marble floors and the high ceiling of the foyer. Crap, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m wound too tightly, annoyed at being called home before I was ready like I’m a damn child.

“Is that you?” Mom’s voice drifts from the kitchen, where the savory scent of cooking fills the first floor.

“Yeah.” Swallowing back what I really want to say, I add, “Sorry I cut it close. We were still painting.”

Reluctantly, I go into the kitchen and take a seat at the large island in the middle with the same marble as the foyer. Mom was obsessed with making our new house look like it could be a palace from Greek mythology compared to our old one. It was nicer in my opinion since it actually fit us, unlike this oversized, too fancy monstrosity with a ridiculously over the top security system. It always feels cold and empty, no matter how many fruit bowls and flowers she puts out.

Mom has a folder with the Nexus Lab company logo on it, standing at the end of the island. She flicks her eyes up at me briefly. “As long as you’re not late. You need time to study.”

My gaze cuts to our cook, who is preparing dinner. Lana doesn’t pause in sautéing vegetables, familiar with these lectures she gets a front row seat to. Mom pays her three times the going rate for an in-home chef and made her sign an ironclad NDA to keep her mouth shut about whatever she overhears in the house.

It’s yet another thing that changed when my parents got promotions. We used to cook meals together. Holden and I had a running contest to see who could catch the most food in our mouth when Dad would flick us a piece. We became obsessed with the game after a night out at a Hibachi restaurant. We haven’t done that in years.

“I already have my acceptance letter to Northwestern,” I say on autopilot, like I have ever since the thi

ck envelope arrived a few months ago.

The words taste like ash on my tongue.

If I actually cared about going there, I imagine it would be really exciting to have an early acceptance. Impressing a college I don’t give a damn about leaves me feeling empty. I can almost smell the salty ocean air and feel the warm sand—my imaginary happy place filling me with the kind of joy I should feel about college.

Mom turns a page of the report in front of her, releasing a quiet, unimpressed sound of acknowledgement.

I curl my fingers into my palms, concentrating on my breathing. “Isn’t that what matters?”

“Of course. But so does finishing what you start. Are your latest grades in my inbox?”

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