Page 43 of Burn the Wild

The guy’s hand slides up my leg.

My heart beats crazily, but I don’t stop him.

“Everything okay here?”

I glance up at the disgruntled, growling voice. A surly, bald-headed man wearing a leather-vest and sporting a long white beard stands behind the bar. He gives an icy stare to the guy next to me before shifting his attention to me with a look of concern.

“You from around here?”

“No.” I think fast. “I’m a…a guest at Runaway Ranch. Jane.”

“Jane.” He sets a glass of water in front of me. “You need anything, you holler.”

From the corner comes the faint strains of a guitar. I swivel on my stool, wobbling a bit thanks to the whiskey. An older woman with feather earrings tunes her acoustic guitar. A mellow country song from the ’70s. Goose bumps run up my arms.

She’s who I want to be.

Resolve fills me.

I have to call Gavin. There’s no time like the present. No time like liquid courage.

Squaring my shoulders, I pull out my phone and dial.

“Hi, Gavin.”

“It’s about fucking time,” he seethes.

When I hear that sharp snap of anger in his voice, my heart beats so fast that my lungs seize up. Any hope I had that he was worried about me is effectively dashed.

“Where are you?”

“It doesn’t matter where I am.”

“I need you to think clearly right now, Reese. I’m willing to forgive you if you come back. You got your tantrum out of your fucking system. Now come home.”

“You fixed it. You told the world I’m in rehab just like last time. No one cares.”

“Everyone cares,” he retorts. “The winter tour. The album. You’re supposed to host the ACMs, for Christ’s sake.”

“They’ll find a replacement.”

“There are consequences, Reese. Big, important consequences.” He sighs. “Think of the fans.”

“I’ve thought about the fans since I was seven, Gavin. It’s my turn to be selfish.”

A small part of me feels like a failure. Because I should want this. Fame. Fortune. But I don’t. I never did.

“We have contracts to sign. Meetings to attend. Money to make. We need to capitalize on everything you can do. Not play vacation.”

“The meetings can wait, Gavin. I need this.” My voice tremors. I can feel the thin thread of exhaustion inside of me stretching tighter. “I need a break. I can’t be locked up this way.”

“Locked up.” He snorts. “Please. You have everything. You’ve got the voice, Reese. Those fucking legs. That body. Money. What else do you want?”

My eyes flutter shut as his words all jumble together.

Not true. Not freedom. Not my life.

“I don’t want this, Gavin.” I grip the phone tight. “Please. I don’t want to go back to—to before Muirwood.”

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