“He’s—”
“I know very well who he is, and that’s all in the past. We took care of it. It’s over. This is no time for grudges.”
Grudge? She was actually calling this a fucking grudge?
“We must all move on and start anew,” she said. “We will be seeing a lot of Jackson and his family during the campaign season, and then after your father becomes mayor. And I expect you to behave yourself.”
My pulse pounded in my head and my stomach churned. How could she possibly expect me to even be in the same room with him? Just the thought—
Oh, god. I was going to be sick.
“Here.” She slapped something into my hand and closed my fist around it. “Go to the ladies room, calm yourself down, and then come back out to mingle. We still have a couple of hours to go and I expect you to act like a McKinley.”
I stumbled into the bathroom, flew into the first stall, and threw up. I stood there, panting, my hands gripping the toilet seat as I desperately tried to figure out how I was going to survive this.
Jack. My family. No Dare.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then stared at it. Slowly I turned it over and opened my fingers.
Valium.
Of course. Mother’s cure-all.
I walked out of the stall and stared at myself in the mirror.
I was gone. There was nothing left.
Nothing but pills.
I smiled bitterly. My only friends. Without thinking, I placed the bottle against my lips, tipped my head back, and let it rain. Then I poured water into my hands and washed all the capsules down. At the sensation of swallowing them, calm washed over me.
Everything was okay.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bottle Quinn had given me.
More friends. Why not? The more the merrier, right?
I emptied that one too.
When they were all gone, I smiled at my reflection one last time.
And then I went outside.
The cold air accosted me as I pushed through the doors and stepped out into the night. It felt good, even as it made me shiver, and I took a deep breath.
And then my eyes connected with a familiar pair of warm, brown ones. Oh, god. He’d come. He was here.
My heart broke. Right in half.
He sat on his motorcycle at the bottom of the steps, helmet in his hands, sporting a black leather jacket and black jeans. Just like the night we met.
I wanted to cry.
But McKinleys didn’t cry, right?
Fuck the McKinleys. Every single one of them.
I walked toward Dare, my head starting to swim and a lovely floating feeling taking over my limbs.
Maybe I’d fly to him instead.
“Ree?” he said.
I smiled. My name sounded like heaven on his lips. I could soak in that sound forever.
He got off his bike, put his helmet on the seat, and looked up at me. I’d made it partway down the steps and then stumbled. A frown creased his forehead and he ran up to catch me. The world was spinning so fast.
“Are you okay?” he said, placing his hands on my waist to steady me.
I nodded. I was okay. He was here.
He was here? Shit!
“What are you doing?” I asked, my words slurring slightly. I waved my hand at the gala going on behind me as the sidewalk began to tilt. I smiled sadly at him. “You don’t belong here, Dare.”
“Neither do you, Ree,” he said, and then pulled me into his arms. “You belong here.” He enveloped me, his smell and warmth taking over my senses until he filled my entire world. He pressed my hands to his heart. “Right here. Two parts. One whole.”
I wrapped my arms around his strong body and he pulled me closer, held on like he would never let me go.
“Come with me.” He spoke into my hair. “You and me. My family. We’ll all disappear and neither your father nor mine will be able to find us.”
I leaned back to look at his beautiful face, cupped my hand to his cheek. I liked this plan.
“Choose me, not them. Choose us, Ree.”
I tilted my head and smiled.
“Ree?”
I tried to say yes. Yes, please. Let’s hop on your bike and go right now, but it must not have come out right because he looked confused.
So I tried again.
But then the world was falling, Dare was yelling in alarm, and all the twinkling lights of the city went out.
twenty-one
The smell was the first thing that filtered into my awareness. Sterile, antiseptic, colorless. And then the beeping. Constant. Annoying.
I opened my eyes.
White walls and fluorescent lights surrounded me. Someone was slumped asleep in the chair next to me, his blond hair uncharacteristically askew.
“Archer?” My throat was dry, my lips cracked, and my voice sounded scratchy and hoarse. My body felt weak and foreign, like it didn’t belong to me anymore. I’d felt this way one other time, but I pushed that memory away. As always.
Archer startled, his eyes flying open at the sound of my voice.
“Holy fuck,” he said, reaching for my hand. “You’re awake, baby girl. You scared the shit out of us.”
I stared at him for a few minutes, trying to remember what had happened. Archer pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, then tucked it away.
The last thing I remembered was being at the gala…
Suddenly everything came flooding back, my jumbled thoughts putting together a terrifying picture.
“Reagan? You okay? You just got really pale. Are you going to be sick?” Archer reached for the nurse call button.
I shook my head. “How long was I out?”
“Three days,” he said, his brow furrowed. “They had to pump your stomach and put you under because you had such a bad reaction. Your body basically had to restart.”
The door opened and my family was ushered in by a nurse. My mother with her tear-filled eyes—eye drops, if I had to guess. I’d never seen her shed real tears. My father with his cold, stern silence. My brother and sister with their, “What in the world happened to you, Reagan?”
I looked to see if there was a photographer or reporter coming in too, because their performance as the epitome of a loving family was truly Oscar-worthy and screamed photo op.
As soon as the nurse left, my mother shook her head and sighed. “Now that she’s obviously going to recover from the overdose, we need to focus on recovering from the media scandal.”
Bingo.
I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it. It was so fucking wrong and so fucking McKinley that if I didn’t laugh I’d definitely cry.
“What is so funny?” Quinn gaped at me. “Have you lost your mind?”
And that just made me laugh harder.
Archer smiled at me, shaking his head. He got it. He knew. “She’s just happy, Quincy,” he said. “What’s the crime in being happy to be alive?”
“There’s a crime in taking drugs,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.
I was laughing too hard to thank her for giving them to me. Though, that bit of withheld information could become leverage for future use. I’d get it out when I needed it. Always keep your blackmailing arsenal well stocked. It was a McKinley tradition.
“Is she awake?” The shout came from out in the hall.
My eyes flew to the door. Dare!
“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go in there! Family only! Please—”
“I have to see her!”
My heart sped up, kicking wildly in my chest as he burst through the door, a young nurse following close behind.
“Ree!” His eyes were red, as if he hadn’t slept for three days, his clothes rumpled, and his hair a mess. And he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“I’m so sorry!” The nurse looked around the room, completely frazzled. “He just—he ran and then he was here, pushing inside. I couldn’t stop him.”
“Do you know him?” the nurse asked, looking from my smiling face to my family’s perplexed ones. “Is it okay for him to stay?”
My father moved into my line of sight, and the hard look on his face stopped my heart. Our deal. I’d made a deal with him to stop seeing Dare. All of his very real threats came flooding back and I shuddered.
He pulled out his phone as his jaw hardened in warning. “Do you know this man, Reagan?” Each word was laced with menace.
Dare looked from my father to the fear on my face. He nodded as if to say Tell them. We’ll be okay.
I swallowed hard.
“Do you know him?” My father pressed.
“I…I…” My gaze ping-ponged between Dare and my father. The one who could make me smile and the monster who would destroy him if he tried.
“Reagan?” My father turned on his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.
“Reagan?” Archer looked over at me. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“Some degenerate off the street,” my father said. “Probably looking for a morphine hit for his mother. Or maybe himself. We’ll let the DA decide.”
Dare's name was on my lips—the name I used to say to show that he owned me, body, mind, and soul. But now, with that name, my father owned me. Because I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him destroy Dare’s life. He’d already been through too much for me to fuck it up.
I’m sorry, I mouthed at Dare, shaking my head.
He took a step back. “Ree,” he said, disbelief coloring his face. “Tell them.”
“Dude, back off.” Archer grabbed Dare’s shoulder, but Dare shook him off. “You’re upsetting my girl.” When he reached for Dare the second time, Dare shoved him in the chest so hard Archer fell back into his chair.
“Reagan, I’m going to ask you one last time.” My father’s words sounded distant, like he was at the far end of a tunnel. “Do you know this man? Yes or no?”
Hot tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them back. I shook my head and muttered the most painful words I’d ever said in my entire life.
“I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him before.”
Dare’s shoulders sagged. “No…Ree…no.” He staggered back as if he’d been punched in the gut.
“Call security,” my mother said.
Dare raised his hands and took a step toward the door, his face void of all emotion, his eyes completely dead. “Don’t bother. I’m leaving.”
He took another step back. And another. Until he was in the doorway. Before he stepped through, disappearing from my life forever, he looked at me one last time and said, “You’ve clearly made your choice, Reagan.”
Reagan.
Like that, I was Just Reagan again.
twenty-two
I was moved back into my parents’ home as part of my “treatment.” My father paid my way out of mandatory rehab by forcing me to see a counselor three times a week and keeping me under constant supervision.
I was never alone.
My “little fall that ended up with a trip to the hospital” was fed to the press as a bad bout of food poisoning.
For a full week there were serious discussions about how the next year would go. How my parents would control my schedule. How I would get rides to and from school and could only attend sanctioned events with approved chaperones.
And I was not included in any of them.
I was told where to go, what to do, how to dress, when to eat—everything that had been mine was taken away.
And that was when I cracked.
This was a mistake—the biggest mistake of my life.
I’d made the wrong choice at the hospital.
The more my family took away, the more I knew I needed to get to Dare and break free.
But he wasn’t answering his phone.
He didn’t respond to texts.
So I played the part of reformed daughter, plotting my escape, until I knew I could see him—at the art show.
He’d have to be there.
I’d explain everything. Everything—including my plan to run. I wouldn’t use my parents’ money—I had savings from the commissions I’d earned on various art shows. I just had to get away. With Dare. I needed to save myself. Save Dare. Save us. And my father’s wrath? We’d figure it out together.
Because this could not be my life anymore. Not after the freedom and happiness I’d known with Dare. Life could be so much more than I’d ever imagined. It could have meaning, color, and real smiles.
I wanted that. It was worth the risk.
On the day of the showing, every single minute of every one of my lectures felt like a slow, agonizing hour. After my final class, I convinced Victor—my bodyguard du jour—to take me to SoHo for a seminar. Thankfully, he was all brawn and very little brain. He didn’t question why. As long as he could keep an eye on my ass—literally—he would tail me wherever I wanted to go.
The moment I stepped through the door of La Période Bleue, my eyes couldn’t help but go straight to Dare’s work. It stood out among all the rest. I listened to the chatter floating about—people loved his paintings. They were raving.
I was so fucking proud of him. And for him.
I glanced around the gallery, my heart bursting, dying to throw myself in his arms. But I didn’t see him anywhere.
My eyes connected with a pair of hazel ones. “Sabine?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, chérie,” she said, coming up to me. “Wilde did not show.”
I glanced around the room. “Are they sold?”
She nodded and smiled. “All of them. Every single one.” She pointed to the floor behind the counter. “But I saved one for you. Your favorite, no?”
Sia.
No. My favorite was—
I looked up at the wall where his other paintings hung. It wasn’t here.
Real Ree wasn’t here.
Dare wasn’t here.
Oh no. No, no, no. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.
I tried to keep my composure even though I knew what this had to mean. As I handed her my credit card for Sia, I said quietly, “I need a favor, Sabine. See that tall, bulky guy right there?”
“Oui.” She grinned. “Tell me what to do.”
Five minutes later, I was in a cab to Brooklyn—hope, the only thing still keeping me breathing.
Dare’s door was unlocked, the keys on the counter. But the place was empty, completely bare. As if no one had ever lived there. As if he hadn’t even existed.
Gone. Everything gone.
My head spun. I couldn’t breathe.
No more Dare. No more Ree. No more us.
His mother’s number. I had it. I scrolled through my contacts and pressed her name. It rang and rang and rang.
My legs gave out and I fell to my knees. Hot tears flooded my eyes and my chest felt like it was being sliced open as I looked around this space so filled with memories and so empty of everything I wanted, of the only guy I’d ever loved.
Yes, loved.
Maybe.
Probably.
DEFINITELY.
Yes, that was what love felt like. I was sure of it. Like the other person was your second half. Like you were two parts of one whole.
Without Dare, I was just one shattered part.
One half of a broken heart.
Reagan and Dare’s story continues in...
OUT OF CONTROL (Untamed #2)
Three years have passed since Dare Wilde walked out of Reagan McKinley’s life. Three years of radio silence. Three years of regrets.
But she’s not the same girl anymore. Now, at twenty-two, Reagan has big plans to change her life, and it all starts with a trip to Europe. Instead of heading into Harvard Law like her parents had planned, she’s crossed the ocean to follow her dreams in the art world. Her dream
s. For once.
A chance meeting in Paris brings Reagan and Dare face-to-face again, but is it serendipity…or penance? A chasm of unspoken hurt stands between them, but they can’t fight the passion they have for each other. And now that she’s found Dare again—the one person in this world who makes her feel whole—she doesn’t want to let go. Problem is, she may not have a choice.
Two parts. One whole.
Together…they’re out of control.
COMING SOON!
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A Note from the Authors
Hey! Thanks for reading Untamed, the first episode in the UNTAMED series. This is episode 1 in a 7-episode story (like your favorite TV drama series). We truly hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please share it with a friend—it’s lendable!
Also, if you have a few minutes, we would totally appreciate it if you’d write a review and post it online. It doesn’t have to be long or in-depth, a couple of lines telling what you thought of the story and why—just say what you’re inspired to say. Your review will help other readers figure out whether they’d like this novella too.
Thanks! You’re the best. (And we really do mean that.)
Warmly,
Tors and Jins
Acknowledgements
Our biggest thanks goes to editor extraordinaire, Stevan Knapp. This book is extra shiny because of you.
We’d also like to thank the indie writing community for being so warm and welcoming. We’re so proud to be members of this group of writers who help each other out, share information, and give advice and encouragement freely. We are inspired by so many of you.
And many, many thanks to our early readers and reviewers for being so excited about this new series, taking Reagan and Dare into your hearts, and helping us spread the word. Your support and enthusiasm is incredible, and we cannot thank you enough. We love you guys!
Untamed (Untamed #1) Page 12