Untamed (Untamed #1) (15 page)

As November and my father’s announcement drew closer, his team started to shadow me under the pretense of being bodyguards. Every single day it was getting harder and harder to slip away to Dare’s unnoticed. So I became the perfect daughter on the outside, going to all my classes, attending play dates with my parents’ friends’ perfect sons and daughters who were way less perfect than their parents actually realized. At the end of the day, I would run into Dare’s arms. He was my salvation.

Never more so than tonight—two nights before my father’s big day. Though I still had hope—stupidly—that I could keep this part of my life all to myself, my parents’ demands would only increase once the campaign truly started. The clock was ticking. In a couple of days, I was going to be forced to choose between making a break for it and trying to have my own life or succumbing to my parents’ wishes and being a team player.

I didn’t want to play for the McKinley team anymore.

The problem was, I still hadn’t figured out exactly how to get off the roster. And, in all honesty, I was terrified of the repercussions that were sure to follow when I tried.

“Want to go check out that exhibit in the Village Friday night?” Dare asked, threading his fingers through mine and lifting my hand to his lips. We lay entwined together, skin to skin—my favorite way to be with him.

I wish. “I can’t.”

He rained kisses along my knuckles. “Seminar?”

I shook my head, stayed silent.

Friday was the charity gala at the Met. My father had scheduled a press conference on the steps of the museum to announce his candidacy right before the big dinner. There was no getting out of that for
any
reason.

Dare bit down on my collarbone, making me squeal with laughter. When he nibbled his way up my neck to my mouth, I began to ache with need.

I pushed my worries out of my head and tried to focus on him. And the many things I wanted to do to him right now. Trapping his bottom lip between my teeth, I slipped my hand under the covers to reach for him.

He grabbed my wrists, stopping me. “I really need to get back to work,” he said against my mouth. “You promised me we’d get to finish
Real
Ree
tonight, remember? The gallery show is in two weeks and I need your smile to shine just right. Exactly like this.” He traced my lips with the pad of his thumb. His touch made my heart swell.

I kissed his finger. First lightly, then taking the tip in my mouth and running my tongue down its length. My mouth closed over it and I sucked him into my mouth. I shut off my mind and let my body take over.

Dare’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he groaned. “Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s not fair.”

“Sure you don’t want to work on this Ree first?” I asked as I swirled my tongue over him. “And have this Ree work on you?”

“Not fair at all.” His voice was raspy with want. He pulled his finger from between my lips, fisted my hair, and crashed his lips to mine. One hard kiss led to another, and I thought I had him exactly where I wanted him.

But then he rolled away, pulling the sheet with him. “Work,” he said. “But you’re so going to pay for this when I’m done.”

“Oh, I better.” I grinned really wide and chucked a pillow at his back.

He turned to face me, a sexy smile etched into his face. His sultry, dark eyes washed over my naked body as he bent over and grabbed my chin between his fingers. “I like you the best when you’re like this. When you’re wearing nothing but that beautiful, sexy smile.”

“I like me best like this, too,” I said. “With you.”

It was the loud clap of thunder that jolted me awake in the middle of the night. But it was the nightmare I’d been trapped in that left me shaking. The dream didn’t even make any sense. It was like some drug-induced hallucination.

A basement. NO. A wine cellar. Cold and damp. No light. So deep underground I can’t see or breathe. Hands everywhere. So many hands I can’t keep track of them. Ripping and tearing me apart. Blinding pain engulfs my body and I’m screaming and crying, but no one can hear. No one WANTS to hear.

Then lying in bed as my mother presses down on my face with a pillow until I can no longer scream. Or breathe. My lungs hurt. My father can’t stand the noise so he locks me in a bright, white room I can’t escape from. Beeping machines surround me. And hands. All those hands again. The blinding pain is back as I’m ripped apart. AGAIN.

Over and over and over again.

“Ree?” Dare stirred next to me, his voice groggy with sleep. “You okay?”

My back was pressed flat against the headboard, my knees drawn up to my chest. I tried to inhale, but no air entered my lungs. My head spun. I was cold. So, so cold.

“Can’t…breathe.” My words were barely audible gasps.

Dare’s eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. He reached out to wrap his arms around me. “You’re having another panic attack?”

I smacked his hands away and scrambled out of bed.

McKinleys don’t have panic attacks, Reagan.
My mother’s voice.
And if they do, they take care of them quickly and quietly.

It was the third one this week. And by far the worst.

Wheezing, I teetered toward the couch in search of my purse. I needed something to calm me down, and only hoped it would be in there. My bottle was back in my apartment, but maybe one or two pills had fallen ou—

“Ree.” Dare’s feet hit the ground. “Look at me.” I could hear him walking over.

I grabbed my purse and started pulling stuff out. There was too much in here. Why was I carrying around so much crap? And why the fuck didn’t I have what I needed when I fucking needed it?

I turned the bag upside-down and started shaking it. Just one. I only needed one fucking pill.

“Look at me, Ree!”

Strong hands grasped my shoulders and everything slowed down, came into painfully sharp focus.

“REE!”

Slowly, I turned. Even through the darkness, I could see the pain in his eyes. With a quick shake of his head, he said, “Don’t
.
” It was half-warning, half-plea. “You don’t need it.”

No, he was wrong—I did need it. My heart was hammering. One quick swallow and I’d feel better.

“Everything you need is right here.” He opened his arms. “Come here.”

I bit down on my lip, still shaking, still panting. The pills were calling me.

“Let me be the one who makes it all okay. Let me be enough,” he said. “I’ll chase all of your demons away. I promise.”

A promise. One that I wanted to believe in with all my heart.

Without a single word, I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him lift me into his strong embrace and carry me back to bed. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead as he lowered me onto the mattress, and the air returned to my lungs with a
whoosh
.

He left for a moment, then was back, sitting on the bed next to me. He lifted my shirt and smoothed his hands over my skin. Then I felt the brush.

I turned to look at him, paintbrush in his hand, then down at my side where he’d started to paint.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I thought this might help.” He held up the drawing of the phoenix.

My phoenix.

Calm seeped into my skin with every stroke of his brush, every drop of paint. It spread slowly through my body, filling me up with a lightness I’d only ever known with Dare.

Did his phoenix make him feel like this? Like he was strong enough? Like anything was possible?

This paint would wash off tomorrow, but I hoped this feeling would last. Maybe one day the phoenix could have a permanent place on my skin, in my life.

nineteen

“W
here the hell were you last night?” My father was waiting inside my apartment when I went to pick up my school stuff the next morning.

In. My. Apartment.

The last time he’d been here was NEVER.

“Out,” I said, moving past him to retrieve my backpack. My heart thundered in my chest, panic rising in my throat. “I was out.”

“I was here all night.” His voice was dangerously low. “I waited up for you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I didn’t know I was on call last night.” Probably not the best thing to say, but I was very close to full-on panic. Him being here couldn’t be good.

“You were supposed to be at home, Reagan. In the apartment I pay for.”

“What do you need?”

He stared at me for a silent beat, then said, “You are going to break it off.”

“What?” I shook my head, unsure if I’d heard him correctly with all the blood pounding in my ears.

He couldn’t have found out. No way.

“You heard me. I was not going to do this until after the event, but it had to be addressed. You will break up with him.”

I took a step back, still shaking my head. “You don’t even know him. He’s an amazing artist and an incredible person.”

“I know more about him than you do.” A deadly silence trailed his words.

Fuck. His investigators.

My pulse raced, fueled by anger. Dare was none of his business.

“You had me followed? I’m nineteen years old. I can date whoever I want.”

He shook his head coolly. “What you will do is get as far away as possible from this Daren Wilde. Immediately. End of discussion.”

I opened my mouth, fully prepared to tell him exactly why I would NOT do that, but his use of Dare’s full name stopped me. “What did you say?”

“Are you aware that this Daren Rhett Wilde has a criminal record?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “He told me. From juvie when he was a kid. His father set him up. Aren’t those records sealed?”

My father’s smile was as cold and hard as ice. “Nothing is ever sealed when you’re running for office, Reagan. Our family has to be very careful when it comes to the people we associate with. My daughter cannot be hanging around some tattooed degenerate. Son of a drug-dealing convicted killer at that. Did you know Daren’s father is serving time in Rikers?”

“YES. I
know
. He’s told me everything. And it’s DARE. His fucking name is Dare,
not
Daren!” My pulse pounded in my ears. I’d never sworn in front of him before. “And Dare can’t help who his father is.”

Neither could I.

“You’re right, Reagan. Good thing
your
father can make sure you’re never placed in a situation where those types of people could bring harm to your name and reputation.”

“It’s not
me
you’re worried about.” He’d proven that time and time again.

“Reagan.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice into a menacing hiss. “You are not to see this man again. You are not to speak with him. You are not to go back to that apartment in Brooklyn in the middle of the night like some common whore. The daughter I brought up is better than that.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

“If you continue, he can say goodbye to his art career and hello to his father.”

My heart plummeted to the floor. “His father’s in jail.”

“That can be remedied,” he said.

“No.” I shook my head, chills running down my spine. “You can’t let his father know where he is. He almost killed Dare last time.”

“And that family of his in Harrison? That jobless junkie mother living with two underage kids? How do you think Child Protective Services would feel about finding some used needles in her house?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

But he would. He would. He
could
.

His eyes narrowed. “Try me.” Christ. This was a game to him.

Check-fucking-mate.

“The choice is yours.” My father stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “You can be a good girl and make this very easy for everyone involved. I’ll even give you this—if you stop seeing him, I’ll make sure his father never tastes freedom again.” He smiled like he was actually doing me a favor. “Or you can play hardball. Regardless, the outcome will be the same. No more Daren Wilde.” He gave me a hard look. “Have I made myself clear?”

He didn’t even wait for me to respond. He went to walk past me, but then he stopped suddenly, staring down at me with wide eyes. I glanced down and could see Dare’s phoenix showing through the armholes of my loose, cropped tank top.