Page 111 of Burn the Wild

Hell, I’m the one doing the talking, baring my soul. It feels damn good. I’ve told her everything. Well…almost.

“Ford,” Reese squeaks. “He’s here.”

The two of us watch Bosko stride toward us, wearing his usual look of murderous indifference paired with a suit and tie.

He slides into the seat across from us. “I come bearing updates,” Bosko says. He drums the table. “I have good news and bad news.” His gold tooth flashes as he grins. “Which one do you want first?”

Reese sits straight. “The bad.”

“Good choice.” From out of his shabby briefcase, he pulls a shit ton of documents. Charts, banking statements, and colorful graphs. “Gavin’s stealing from you.”

“Christ, man,” I grumble, unhappy with his blunt tactics. If he upsets Reese he’s going to have to deal with me.

“Are you sure?” Reese’s voice trembles.

He pushes the papers toward her. “Take a look.”

Reese bows her head, reading over the documents.

“You can see he’s moving money back and forth between several accounts. The money always starts in yours and ends up in his. We went back ten years. You made six million onHell or High Waterand records show you only received three hundred thousand. Even after you paid out your crew, you should have had at least a million left.”

Her bangles rattle as she shuffles through the papers.

“How is this legal?” I snap. Fury pulses through me. This girl’s been used her entire life.

It’s a nightmare.

Bosko looks to Reese, who nods. It makes me respect the guy more that he honors her privacy. I just fucking wish she’d tell me.

“As her guardian, he controls finances. Which was fine when she was ten years old. As her beneficiary, if anything happens to her, he gets it all.”

My stomach churns.

“Beneficiary?” Reese asks.

Bosko wiggles his brows. “The good news. I found your real contract.”

Reese gasps. “How?”

“I have access to shady people a nice girl like you doesn’t need to know about.”

I don’t even want to know what kind of creepy shadow-network Bosko has in his back pocket. As long as it helps Reese, I’ll keep my mouth shut.

A contract’s slid across to us. I pull it closer. I want to see this damn thing.

Bosko’s finger lands on the contract likeXmarks the spot.

“Here. Clause 8 of your contact,” he says. “In the event of my death,I, Reese Austin, give all my tangible personal property and monetary income to my manager, Gavin Cross. Yada, yada, yada, you get the point.”

Reese swears. “Bastard.”

I drag a hand through my hair. Every cell in my body screams at me that this is wrong. Dangerous.

Reese lifts her head. She’s pale, but there’s fight in her eyes. “How do I get my money back?”

“I like you, Reese. You ask the good questions.” Bosko pauses, then says, “I can steal it.”

I sigh, casting a glare in Bosko’s direction. The last thing I want is Reese mixed up in this. “Birdie, maybe we should—”

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