Page 3 of Burn the Wild

I wince. I haven’t had a meal in days, and I would kill for a bag of Combos. Eighties junk food is officially my weakness. “No. I haven’t.”

My pulse kicks up a notch.

Of course, that’s his first priority. Because if I gain weight, I don’t sell records. Briefly, I wonder if I was twenty pounds heavier if he’d still love me, but I bury the thought. It’s easier that way.

“These…” He grabs my pills off the makeup stand, his brows tightening as he reads the label. “I told you not to go back to that shrink.” Gavin wags the bottle in the air, rattling the pills, before chucking it into the trash. “These make you fat. And she puts those fucking thoughts into your head.”

My skin pricks cold. I glare. “You can’t let me have this one thing.”

“If I let you have everything you wanted, you’d still be nothing, wouldn’t you?”

I bite my lip and stare at the bangles on my wrists.

It’s been ten years, and he still uses it against me. Still acts like I don’t deserve everything he gave me. I’m the one who made my millions. It’s my voice. Even if it hasn’t felt like it for so long now.

Gavin pulls an orange bottle from the inside of his jacket pocket. “You go to the therapist I found for you. She knows what you need.”

“I don’t like her,” I say, even as I accept the antidepressants he shakes out into my palm. “She makes me feel—”

“Crazy?” He lifts a brow, staring at me with an expression that makes me feel simultaneously like an idiot and a child. “Youare crazy, Reese. But you’re also my shiny little shooting star and I need you.”

With that, he leans into me. The second he kisses my cheek, I go soft. I hate myself for it.

Gavin whirls to face the people in the room. “She has a show in two hours. I need her cleaned up and presentable.”

My stylist, Vix, motions. “Come here.”

I wander to the clothing rack, exhausted and carved out. Hollow.

It’s over soon. Just one more show.

The refrain in my head reminds me I’m so close to being done with this tour. So close to rest. It’s the only thing getting me through it.

Vix gestures and I strip down.

Quickly, I’m dressed in a lace corset, short leather fringe skirt and sky-high cherry red heels. To top it all off, a huge rabbit fur coat settles on top of me. I weigh a thousand pounds.

I am all fur, really, like a wild animal caught in a trap.

When I’m sure Gavin isn’t looking, I steal a chocolate-covered strawberry off the minibar and cram it in my mouth. And fuck. It’s so good.

That’s when I see Diana lean into Gavin.

I shake my head, eyes narrowed. “Narc,” I mouth, slicing a finger across my throat. She’s disliked me ever since I drove a car into a pool last year because I had too much whiskey at the CMAs.

I’m messy enough that people find it amusing. I’m pretty enough that people forgive me.

Heart racing, I swallow the strawberry and watch them confer with a blank face, then sigh as Gavin stomps his way over to me.

It’s in this moment that I realize I’m terrifyingly alone with no one to rely on. Even my publicist isn’t on my side.

“For god’s sake, Reese,” Gavin shouts. “Green juice or whiskey, not food.” He needles his brow. “I don’t want to see that fucking belt buckle on stage.”

Gavin’s narrowed eyes move to Kyler, who’s scratching himself beneath the sheet. “We have to get this thing between you and Ky off the ground. You two can be the king and queen of country music. You need a relationship, Reese. It looks good on you.”

I scoff, but my eyes burn. “Playing matchmaker isn’t your strong suit, Gavin.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen, Reese. After the show, you do whatever the fuck you want to do, eat whatever the fuck you want to eat, but tomorrow, I need you on your game. We’re going to Vegas.”

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