Burn This! (A 300 Moons Book)(Bad Boy Alphas) Read Online Free PDF

facility into a grown-up summer camp for the rich and shameless.
    “Hey, Jeannie, how’s it going?” Neve asked her politely, though she really would have preferred to slip into the break room and get herself a Coke between calamities since she hadn’t eaten dinner last night or breakfast that morning.
    “It’s Miss Wylde, she’s awful. She’s screaming about that dinosaur she has. Refusing to put it in the cage.”
    Oh Christ.
    Jocelyn Wylde had had checked in with the condition of being allowed to keep her pet iguana. His name was Tacos. They all knew this, not only because he was in the magazine shots with her, but also because his name was written in rhinestones on his bright pink leash.
    At least she hoped those were rhinestones, but the more Neve thought about it, the more she had to admit to herself that they were most likely diamonds.
    At any rate, Jeannie was certainly not going to remember his name. In her day there was no way animals would be admitted at all. Let alone exotic pets.
    “Let me go check it out,” she told Jeannie, patting the older woman firmly on the shoulder as she passed.
    “You are a good woman, Neve Whittaker. God bless you, but that kid’s too far gone even for you…” Jeannie muttered agreeably as she trudged away, shaking her gray head and continuing her diatribe.
    Neve took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
    There was no reply.
    She knocked again.
    “Um, yeah?” a female voice said on the other side.
    “May I come in?” Neve asked.
    “Sure,” the voice replied uncertainly.
    Neve opened the door.
    Sunlight filled the large room, which overlooked the reflecting pool and garden in the center of the sanctuary through privacy glass. The dark stained hardwood floors anchored the light walls and spare, modern furnishings.
    It was one of the nicest suites in the facility.
    Unfortunately, by default its residents were seldom happy. Those who could afford this suite tended to have the kind of career that seduced them into leaving immediately after they made any progress.
    Such was the inevitable contrast of a place like Malibu Sanctuaries - the brighter and more cheerful the room, the stormier its occupant.
    Jocelyn Wylde sat on the bed, leaning on the wall behind it.
    She didn’t look like Jocelyn Wylde today. Her dirty blonde hair hung limp, dark circles gathered under her eyes and a few stray blemishes stood out on her skin. She would have been pretty by normal standards. But not the kind of person you’d think was destined to become a star.
    Yet here she was. Nineteen years old, and already famous for the string of epic break-ups that had led to her savant-like ability to write heartbreakingly apt bad relationship songs.
    Unfortunately, it had also led to her becoming dependent on alcohol before she could legally take her first sip. Which led to using pills to prop herself up on stage, and then to the proverbial train-wreck that had landed her here.
    She didn’t look famous today. She looked like every screwed up nineteen year old.
    Therein lay both the danger and the cure.
    “How are you feeling today?” Neve asked lightly.
    “Fine,” Jocelyn snapped.
    “I see,” Neve answered, sitting down on the chair beside the bed.
    She looked out the window, forcing herself to really take in the view.
    Jocelyn was silent behind her. The hostility in the air was disappearing as the girl became less defensive and more curious.
    This was the hard part. Whether it took a minute or an hour, Neve had to keep her mouth shut.
    Jocelyn shifted in the bed, and Neve fought the instinct to turn. Instead, she mentally counted the marble columns surrounding the reflecting pool.
    “So who are you?” the girl finally asked.
    “Neve,” she replied, without turning around.
    “Are you another fucking psychiatrist?” Jocelyn spat.
    “No,” Neve replied. “I’m just a nurse.”
    Just a nurse. As if. But Neve needed to appear as non-threatening as possible, even if it meant swallowing