Page 173 of Burn the Wild

An unfamiliar hand touches my arm. “Can I have an autograph?”

“Oh, uh…” My eyes flick to Ford. His jaw is tense as he scans the crowd.

I take the pen I’m offered. Quickly, I sign a cocktail napkin, then another.

A small circle has formed. Suddenly, I’m desperate to be away from here. To be alone with Ford. Adding to the madness, car doors slam. From out of the SUV, come paparazzi.

They’ve found me. They’ve been following me all this time.

“Reese, is this where you’ve been hiding?”

“You look beautiful, Reese. Give us a smile.”

“Ford,” I say, looking toward him like he’s my home base. There’s fear in my voice.

Someone flashes a camera. “Aren’t you supposed to be in rehab?”

“Get the fuck away from her,” Ford snarls.

Before I know what’s happening, I’m mobbed. People and cameras head toward me like a stampede of cattle.

Fear races through my chest. The crowd’s drunk. Who knows what they’ll do?

“Ford!” I stand on tiptoes, trying to find him in the crowd.

“Move, fucking move,” he roars.

My knees go weak at Ford’s voice, and I move fast, skimming under an arm, searching for a way out. Someone grabs the back of my shirt. I twist around, angry now. “Get off me, asshole!”

A strong hand comes out, catching my wrist.

Ford.

I catch a glimpse of his furious face before I’m yanked into his arms.

I cling to him, burying my face against his chest. Trusting him to get me out of here. Thisman. Fierce. Protective.Thisis why I’ve stayed—why he’s the one. Because his arms are the safest place I’ve ever been.

When someone steps in front of him, blocking our escape to the truck, he doesn’t even hesitate. He just swings with his right while holding onto me with his left.

Somehow, he gets us to the truck and throws open the door, depositing me safely inside.

And as he speeds out of the parking lot, white knuckling the wheel, I sit back against the seat and stare out into the dark. Maybe this won’t work after all. Maybe Ford is just another dream I can’t have.

It’s one in the morning when we finally drag our exhausted asses into the motel room. I toss the keys on the dresser with a clatter and stare at Reese. Fuck if I’m not rattled after the events of tonight. She’s lucky she wasn’t hurt.

Those fucking paparazzi. Vultures. Who knows how long they’ve been following her?

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I try to turn her toward me, so I can look her over, but she shakes me off.

“No. I’m not hurt.” She perches on the edge of the mattress, staring at her scarred wrists. “I’m mad.”

I sit beside her. I’ve been waiting for her to talk to me since the scene in the bar, but she’s been silent. Every ounce of happiness sucked right out of her. “Talk to me, baby.”

“The paparazzi. Gavin.” She huffs out a breath, tears in her eyes. “They won’t leave me alone.” The pain and fear in her voice cuts me. “They won’t let me have the life I want.”

My stupid heart’s about to explode, but I force the question out. “And what life is that?”

“A life with you,” she admits. Every inch of my skin heats at her words. Then just as quickly, she shakes her head. “And that’s silly and stupid of me, isn’t it? I’ve known you for a summer. We’ve only been on one date. Nothing turned out the way Ithought it would. And maybe that’s perfect. But maybe I was wrong.”

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