Page 28 of Burn the Wild

I roll my eyes. “Your choice.”

Davis stands, roughing Keena’s fur. “I got a kid.”

“Fuck you,” I say to him. “What about Wyatt?”

“Wyatt’s got enough problems,” Charlie says softly. He glances out the window, his blue eyes following the slow lope of Wyatt to the pasture. To Fallon.

“Shit,” I mutter.

Davis and Charlie grin in unison. “Good luck.”

I flip them off.

When my brothers clear out, I spin the laptop back my way and hit play on the next video.

Reese stands on the end of a catwalk, dolled up beyond recognition in a tiny sequined dress, fake eyelashes, too much makeup, and heels as high as skyscrapers.

Fans scream the lyrics as she sings something about having heart-eyes for a cowboy on a white horse. The song’s stupid, but her voice… Jesus. A blast of a falsetto with a faint country twang.

I squint at the screen as if I can see right through the façade of her sky-high boots and bleach-blonde hair. How much of her is an act? How much of her is the real deal?

She wiggles around the stage, shaking that perky ass of hers. Fucking gorgeous. I can’t lie.

The camera zooms in.

My stomach bottoms out.

Fuck.

She’s crying.

And no one even fucking notices.

Beesting Honey. I slide my nail under the box of hair color I nabbed at a gas station in Red Lodge and pop the top. A quick glance at my reflection in the bathroom mirror tells me my platinum locks need help. They’re fried and lifeless. Exactly how I feel.

In less than twenty minutes, my hair’s wrapped and processing. My hairstylist—not to mention Gavin—will have a fit, but I don’t care.

Even with my scalp on fire, I feel better than I did forty-eight hours ago.

Wrapped in a fluffy white towel, I cross the wooden floorboards. Each groan and creak beneath my bare feet reminds me I’m far from LA. There’s something peaceful—almost safe—about the chalet. And for a small amount of time, I get to call it mine.

I open the back door and stare out into the night, at the forest, swaying in the whipping wind. It would be heaven to find that lake. To go to the water. But the darkness frightens me. Mostly because I already have too much of it inside me as it is.

On a sigh, I shut the door. How long will it take for me to feel like myself again? For this dark hole to go away?

Maybe running was a mistake. Maybe I should have stuck it out. Sucked it up.

But I couldn’t. Absentmindedly, I sweep my hand over my bangles. I don’t want to go back there.

Only where am I now?

No money. No car. No friends.

I think of what I missed today. A private jet to LA. Drinks at Serpentine. Whatever boring meeting Gavin had set up. I laugh to myself. Old Reese would want that. Would be in heaven.

I yawn, dragging in a long breath, and head to the kitchen table. I sit down and fire up my laptop. Gaze on the screen, I type a few keywords into the search engine and instantly get hit with:

Superstar Reese Austin’s Downward Spiral

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