Page 96 of Burn the Wild

“How did you find me?”

He arches a brow. “I have a tracker in your phone.”

I stand there, rocked. “What?”

My conversation with Bosko made me think he was overreacting, but now I wonder if I haven’t been paranoid enough. Hetrackedme. What else has he done without my permission?

“I have to take care of you, Reese,” he clips. “Because God knows you can’t do it yourself.”

I close my eyes and pretend for one second he believes in me. Loves me. Cares about me.

But the lie doesn’t land. Not anymore.

Gavin’s eyes narrow. “You look different.”

“I cut my hair. And I gained five pounds.” Saying it out loud feels like I have power.

Annoyance creeps into his expression as he extends a hand to the buttery leather couch. “Sit.”

Gritting my teeth, I obey. He settles across from me. Those cold blue eyes used to intimidate stylists, publicists stare me down.

“It’s been a month. It’s time to come home.”

“You said the summer.” I feel like a petulant child arguing with my father.

“We have contracts that still need to be ironed out.” He squints, inspecting me. “Are you off your meds?”

“I ran out,” I lie, hating myself.

“I thought so.” Sighing, he pulls a pill bottle out of his suit pocket and sets it on the wagon wheel coffee table. “What would you do without me, Reese? You’d never survive.”

But I have. And I can.

Time spent here has given me clarity. I don’t feel as foggy or as numb as I typically do.

I’ve never let myself dream about anything other than being famous. It was already set in stone for me. But on Runaway Ranch, the possibilities seem endless. My life seems up for grabs. A life I wasn’t sure I wanted at one time.

If I sing, I want to sing with my whole body. No more drugs, no more drink, no more strange men in my bed, or dark holes in my head.

“If we wait too long between albums, they’ll forget about you.Right now, we can spin your absence to RCA as a resurgence. But that means there are contracts to sign and songs to sing.”

I hold his gaze. “I don’t want to do that album, Gavin. It’s shit, and I sound like a robot. I want to domysongs.”

“You disappoint me.”

I flinch. It still stings.

Gavin leans in, his hands gripped so tightly around his knees I can see the white of his knuckles. “You’d give up everything we worked for…” His head swivels around the lodge. “For this? Some fucking summer vacation?”

“It’s not a vacation, it’s…”

Clarity.

Calm.

Hope.

“It’smylife,” I say, covering my bangles with one hand. “You’re not allowed to control it.”

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