Page 178 of Burn the Wild

I sigh. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Gavin, I was…” I shake my head, too exhausted to get into it. “It’s my break. I’m taking a break.”

“Enough with the fucking act, Reese.” He’s so close I can feel his breath. “You’re lying to me. You’re not planning to come back.”

I nearly take a step back. There’s something different about him. The look on Gavin’s face is cold, bordering on desperate. His dark gray suit is rumpled and red sand clings to the sides of his loafers. None of the polish I’ve come to expect from Gavin Cross.

Panic spirals in me, but I choke it down. Force a bright smile. “Of course, I am. What are you talking about?”

“You’re not that good of an actress, Reese.” He catches me by the arm, digging his fingertips into my biceps. “You think I’m going to let you go when I worked so hard to get you?”

I shake my head. “Get me? What do you mean?” He’s not making sense.

“It’s my job to watch you, Reese. To take care of you.”

“No. All you want to do is control me.”

“I control you because it’smyjob. I protect you.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss. Fuck this man’s attempts to make me feel guilty. “You’ve never protected me in your life. You need to leave, Gavin. Now.”

He tightens his grip. “This is what you choose to do with your free time? Singing shit songs and dressing like a fucking whore?” His gaze darkens as it lands on Ford’s necklace around my throat. He reaches for it, but a spray of water arcs across the room. Gavin swears and drops my arm as it drenches his face.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Fallon shouts, leaning over the bar, soda nozzle in her hand like a pistol. Ruby talks fast on her phone as Fallon turns the water on the guests who have filed out of the cantina, cell phones recording everything. “You too, assholes. Mind your fucking business.”

Not wanting to cause more of a scene in front of the guests, I weave through the couches and push through the front door. The sight of the ranch calms me.

For a brief second.

And then Gavin’s stepping into my space and boxing me against the wall of the lodge. Nausea swims in my belly as he gets close.

“You little bitch,” he snarls, his voice hot with anger. “You think you can walk away from me?”

“Go home, Gavin,” I say calmly. “Go back to LA, and if you’re lucky, I’ll come back. Maybe I’ll make you some money.”

I can’t resist the dig. The gaslighting. Like he’s done to me all these years.

“Fuck you, Reese.” I gasp when he grabs both my wrists. Sweat beads his hairline. “Now stop talking. You’re coming with me.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He squeezes my wrists, and it’s like I can feel that blade all over again.

Images flash in my mind. Gavin shouting at me before a show. Forcing me to go on stage two weeks after my suicide attempt. Never letting me have my own life. Telling me I wasn’t pretty or skinny enough. Using me for my money, my body, my voice.

“Why? Because you’re in love?” His growl jerks me back to the present. “Because you sang ‘Delta Dawn’ once in a bar and now you don’t need me?”

My mind spins. He saw me. He was here.

He releases my wrists, and his hands land on my throat, squeezing.

I twist away, trying to break his hold on me. “Gavin. You’re hurting me—” The air around me becomes foggy. My breaths come faster and faster.

“Hurting you? What aboutme?Now it’s the principle. The fucking gall. You leave me? When I made you?”

“Stop,” I beg, gulping air. “Stop.”

He moves closer. The grip on his control thinning. His eyes raging and wild. “You’re not free until I say you’re free, Reese.”

“Take your fucking hands off her. Now.”

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