Page 44 of Bleeding Blackheart

His eyes widen, and he turns down some long single-lane road. “Montana, we have to go back. I have my house. My horses. There are things to settle before we do anything else.”

My hands start to shake, and my throat starts to close up. “He’ll be there. He’ll be waiting for us. If we go back, he will kill us, Gunner! Why can’t you understand that?!”

He groans and scratches his jaw. “If he shows up before we get back, Dallas will deal with him. If he’s there when we return, I will. We’ll be ready. Quit panicking.”

I can’t quit panicking. I’m filled with dread. I’m dreading what’s to come. I’m mourning the loss of everything Mason Barnes is getting ready to take from us.

We ride another ten minutes in silence, and after a few turns, we end up in front of one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen. Three stories. Brick mansion with alarge front porch. Fenced in with stables and other animals out back. It’s almost as nice as the home I grew up in.

Gunner parks on a patch of grass behind the house and types something on his phone. After a minute or two, he helps me out of the truck. “Colton will be back in a little while. You can meet him in the morning.”

Colton is Gunner’s friend who owns this house. I don’t know what he does for work, but he must be loaded.

With our bags in hand, Gunner leads me to the front of the house. He pulls out his key ring, finding a silver key, and once he gets the door unlocked, we head inside.

I’m filled with emotion the second we step through the doors. For a brief moment, I’m transported back to when I was a little kid. Back when my mother was still alive, and I thought I lived in a fairytale.

It feels weird, trekking through someone’s home without them being present, but Gunner walks through like he’s been here a million times before.

I follow him upstairs to the third floor, and when we get to the end of the hall, he takes me in a massive bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, a circle bed, and a chandelier.

The floors are wood and shiny, there’s a wet bar, a mini fridge, and a massage table. There’s no question this is the master bedroom.

I use my T-shirt to fan myself, getting nervous. “Are we allowed to be up here?”

He drops the bags down and laughs. “He’s very hospitable. And he hardly sleeps here. Parties too much. Relax, Montana.”

I take a look around the room, feeling like I’m at a Western retreat. There’s a deer head above the bed and an American flag on the opposite wall above the TV.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

Gunner points at a concealed door along the wall, and I go to it quickly, needing to relieve myself.

Thank God my period is over. One less thing to deal with.

When I go back to the room, Gunner is sitting on the edge of the bed with his hat off in just his undershirt while he scrolls on his phone. He looks up at me, and his cheeks flush as if he’s just realizing we’re in an empty house in a bedroom alone together.

Standing up slowly, he pockets his phone, and then he approaches me, leaving a foot of space between us.

He’s sweaty. And he looks exhausted. But all I want him to do is kiss me. He clears his throat and pulls a loose strand of hair off my shoulder. “Do you want to do something fun?”

I nod my head eagerly, not wanting to wait any longer.

Grabbing his hat off the edge of the bed, he heads toward the door. “Come on. I wanna show you something.”

When Gunner asked if I wanted to do something fun, I didn’t think it would be brushing a horse in the middle of the night, but here I am.

He rubs something onto the mane of the golden beauty in front of me, making her hair look shiny. “This is Skye. I lost her in a bet about five years ago. Colt treats her well, but she still likes me better.” He rubs her ears and grabs a saddle. I put my brush aside so he can put it on her.

After it’s secure, he grabs the horn and pats her side. “Go ahead and climb on.”

“What?”

He grins at me. “Get on her, Montana.”

It’s after two a.m., and I’m in the middle of nowhere in Utah about to get on a horse at some rich man’s house. A man who doesn’t know me. I feel like I’m breaking the law.

“I can’t. I’m not comfortable.”