Runaway (Wolfes of Manhattan 3)

I reached for my purse.

And pulled out the pack of cigarettes.

This was my vice. My escape. I’d get into the hot tub later, but for now? Only one thing would put my mind at rest.

Physical pain.

A burn.

As a model, I had to keep my body looking perfect all the time, so I hid my burns well.

There was a spot at the top of my vulva that was always covered. I kept myself shaved for easy access.

My father had seen the markings more than once.

He’d never said anything. Not a damned thing.

I lit the cigarette and took a drag, mindful not to inhale even a tiny bit of smoke or I’d gag. Matt truly had nothing to worry about. I never smoked.

These cigarettes served a far more sinister purpose.

I always let the cigarette burn a few minutes. Had to make sure it wouldn’t bend when I pushed it hard into my bare flesh. So I waited. This cabin was designated as a nonsmoking property, but I didn’t rightfully care at the moment.

A few moments later, when a clump of ash fell off the tip and onto the hardwood floor, I still didn’t care.

It was time.

I removed my cowboy boots and socks, my jeans, and then my panties.

Several scars marred my vulva. Sprouts of pubic hair had begun to grow in. My dark hair stubbled quickly. I’d considered getting laser hair removal, except the technician would see my scars, and I couldn’t have that.

The middle scar was fresh. I’d burnt myself there a while ago, after I had dinner with Lacey Ward, who was now my brother Rock’s wife.

Lacey was a stranger—a stranger who knew my father. She was his estate attorney and had read the will to us.

She’d seemed so nice, so easy to talk to, so I’d asked her to dinner.

But I chickened out.

When Rock had called her, I told her to have him join us.

I hadn’t been able to divulge my secret to her.

So I left dinner early, went home to my Manhattan high rise, and burned myself.

Then I disappeared.

Again.

I’d been traveling for several days before I found this cabin. Luckily it was available at the last minute. Montana had been my plan all along. That was where Rock had gone.

That was where I’d go.

And I had.

You’re stalling.

That voice inside my head.

I was indeed stalling. Going over shit in my mind that I already knew.

I pushed the cigarette and sucked in a breath as it burned me.

It hurt. It hurt like a mother.

Yet it hurt so fucking good.

The pain. The searing, burning pain.

The pain that made me forget, if only for a few minutes, the pain inside my head. My heart.

My soul.

When the smell of my own flesh burning reached my nose, I removed the cigarette.

The wound was perfectly round.

Just perfect.

A perfectly round burn for perfect Riley Wolfe.

Riley Wolfe, supermodel who was beautiful on the outside but a fucking mess on the inside.

When the wound had cooled, I covered it with antibacterial ointment. I always took care of myself. Couldn’t risk an infection that might spread to someplace visible.

Calmness drifted through me like a soft breeze.

The physical pain removed the emotional.

Oh, it wouldn’t last long, but for these few precious moments, I was whole again.

Whole inside.

Still naked from the waist down, I walked into the kitchen to fix myself something quick for dinner. Burning myself made me hungry for some reason. It always had.

I opened the refrigerator. Matt had stocked me with some fresh fruit and yogurt. Some salad greens and sundried tomatoes.

Normal food fare for me.

I didn’t want any of it.

This was a small town. No one would deliver. At least I didn’t think they would.

That Mexican lunch had spoiled me. I wanted something bready and cheesy.

Pizza.

I wanted an extra-large thick-crust pizza with a double dose of everything on it, even anchovies. Did Sumter Falls have a pizza place? I had no idea, but I could drive into town and find out. I hastily put my panties and jeans back on. Not the cowboy boots, though. Flip-flops would do just fine.

I grabbed my phone and searched…

Bingo!

Rosati’s Pizza on Broad Street in downtown Sumter Falls.

Fredricka would be so damned angry, but I didn’t care an iota.

Pizza, here I come.16MatteoLeena didn’t ask me to do her odd jobs because I was cheaper than the plumber.

I knew it and she knew it.

She wanted me to fuck her.

She’d been coming on to me since she moved here two years ago. She was young and attractive, but not my type. Her arms were covered in tats, which wasn’t my thing. Her hair was cut short and dyed light blond, which also wasn’t my thing. She smoked, which was definitely not my thing.

Still, I would have bedded her. She had a body that wouldn’t quit, after all, and I was human.

The deciding factor? She’d had a one-nighter with Luke shortly after she moved here, and she pretty much stalked him for a couple months afterward.