Page 130 of Burn the Wild

“I’ll go then.” My heart hammers. Wrenching my arm from his grasp, I swim awkwardly for the shore, tripping over my feet.

From behind me, comes the sharp blast of his swear. “Like hell you’re leaving.”

He catches my wrist, and I flinch. Without my bangles, I feel exposed—vulnerable. He’s touching my scars. Scars I’ve tried to hide for the last month.

I fight against his grip. “Let me go.”

Ford turns me toward him, bringing the scarred part of my arm to his heart. “You can run away from your entire world, Birdie Girl, but you can’t run away from me.”

“Don’t, Ford.” He’s being too sweet. I hate it. I can’t have it.

“You’re sad,” he states.

“We’re all sad, Ford. Some of us just want to do something about it more than others.”

Alarm widens his eyes. “Is that why you’re here? To do something?” When I stay stubbornly silent, he growls, “Tell me, Reese.”

I loosen his grasp and start to move forward. “Why do you care?”

Water ripples as he follows me. “You might have gone your whole life without people in your corner but not anymore.”

I spin around. “And why is that?”

Standing in knee-deep water, we glare at each other.

“Because you have me,” he says gruffly. “Do you hear me, Reese? You have me.”

“I don’t have you.” My eyes well with tears. “You don’t have to pretend just because you’re fucking me.”

Ford stalks toward me, his expression fiercer than I’ve ever seen. “Never say that again. I don’t need to fuck you to care about you. I know what it feels like to be lost.” His voice sounds tortured. “I see you, Bluebird. Every version of you. Broken. Whole. Angry. Sad. I see you.”

A sob escapes my mouth. All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to see me. Someone to get it.

He gently takes my wrist in his hand again. “Tell me what happened.” His voice breaks. “Baby, just tell me before I lose my shit.”

His pleading gaze makes my chest ache.

Steadying myself, I lick my lips and say, “I don’t like my past.” My voice wobbles out in a whisper. “I hate it. I feel ashamed. I don’t want you to think the worst of me. I didn’t want you to know.”

He keeps me in his grasp, his gaze still locked on mine. “Know what?”

“When I was sixteen, I…I tried to kill myself.” I swallow down the bile threatening to rise in my throat.

Ford’s eyes close.

My heartbeat skips. “It’s because of the horses.” Memory assails me. “It was on the set of my movie. On the shoot, I couldn’t stay on the horse. I had no training. We trained day after day after day, and I was so tired. I couldn’t finish the scene. I needed a break. But Gavin…he…” I’m shivering so hard it feels like it’s the dead of winter. “He wouldn’t let me take a break. He duct-taped my hands to the saddle.”

A shocked breath hisses out of Ford’s mouth. “Motherfucker.” He fights for control of his emotions, The only telltale sign of anger, the pulsing muscle in his jaw.

“He made me stay up there until I finished the scene.” I swallow again. “Twelve hours. I couldn’t walk when I got off.”

“Reese.Reese.” He pulls me closer, deeper into his body. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

I close my eyes, powering through the pain.

“That was the day I realized it wouldn’t get easier. That my life would never be mine. It would always be Gavin’s. So I…I wrote goodbye on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick. And then I got into a bathtub and…”

I exhale, unable to finish.

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