Page 61 of Bleeding Blackheart

I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t explain why I would have feelings for you.” Just like Colt, I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, having any physical thing a girl could want. But somehow, I have love for Gunner inside me. I don’t love him yet. At least I don’t think I do. But I really like him and know I could love him soon.

Colt bursts into laughter while he drives faster. “That’s because Gun kidnapped you, Montana. You’re a victim, baby.”

At that, I laugh too, and we listen to music on the radio until we get to the steakhouse.

Gunner helps me out of the car when we arrive, and with him on my right and Colt on my left, I feel like a celebrity with bodyguards. I might need some to protect me from my father. I didn’t have the dream last night, but I can almost feel him watching and waiting to pounce. I’m dreading the day I see him again.

I’m broken away from my thoughts when we step in the building and the aroma from the kitchen wafts over me. A live band plays in the background, and we’re seated off at a private table in the back. This restaurant is owned by Colt’s family, so he gets priority over regular customers.

Colt hands me a menu and starts rattling off things. “You like Wagyu, Montana? You’ve gotta get the Wagyu with the scallops on it. Good God, it’s good. Not as good as my family’s restaurant in Georgia, but pretty close.”

I turn to Gunner, trying to see what he’s got his eye on. “What are you getting?”

He opens his mouth, getting ready to point something out to me when his phone rings.

Colt snaps at a waiter who brings him a beer. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to have your phone ringing at the dinner table, Gun?” He says his words playfully, but Gunner ignores him, taking out his cell.

“Hang on a minute. It’s Dallas.”

I wonder what Dallas is calling for at seven p.m. Maybe he has an update on my father. I hope to God he isn’t on his way to us. My father has friends all over the country, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he found a way to hunt us down.

Colt keeps trying to crack jokes, but Gunner holds up his hand, quieting him while he talks on the phone. “What? Hang on. I—it’s too loud in here. Let me step outside.”

He gets up from the table and walks back out the front door along the side of the building, and I watch him through the glass, trying to figure out what’s going on.

Colt takes another swig of his beer and leans back in his seat. “I’m glad you found Gun, Montana. He’s been alone for so long that I thought he’d never see light again. For a minute I thought his sadness would kill him.”

I hear Colt’s voice in my ears, but I barely process his words while I look out the window.

Something’s wrong.

Gunner sinks a hand in his hair, pulling it, still holding his phone to his ear, and I see him mouthnoover and over. When I hear him yell through the glass, I jump out of my seat, sprinting for the doors. Colt’s on my heels before I can say anything, and when I look over my shoulder at him, his blue eyes look terrified. We step out onto the sidewalk, and my stomach curdles when I hear Gunner groaning, and when he turns around, I see tears streaming down his face.

Gunner looks at Colt first and shakes his head, frowning at him. When I look at Colt, his brows are creased with tears in his eyes too. He rubs his jaw. “Gun?” His use of his name isn’t a question but a plea. A plea that whatever he’s about to say can’t be true.

When Gunner drops his head, I know that nothing about our lives will ever be the same.

Colt starts to groan and shakes his head in disbelief.

I step in front of Gunner, more anxious than I’ve been the past two weeks, wanting to know what Colt figured out that I didn’t.

I hear Dallas say he’s sorry over Gunner’s phone, and he sounds like he’s crying too. When Gunner drops his cell, I pull his hands into mine while my heart slams inside my body, and I finally find my voice. “What’s goingon?” Something tragic has happened. Something to bring Gunner to tears, and Colt knows it too.

I feel nauseous, waiting for his revelation. His parents are dead and so is his sister. Margaret’s gone. Colt and Dallas are alright. Who the hell does he have left?

Then it finally hits me.

He tilts his head to the sky with his eyes closed, tears streaming down his cheeks while his body shakes. “They’re gone. My horses—my horses are fucking dead. Shot in the skull. Every single one of them.”

I sit in the Camero beside Gunner while he speeds down the road. We won’t get back to Wyoming until after midnight, but he insisted on going back. He doesn’t believe it’s true and wants to see his babies for himself. There’s no way in hell I’d let him go alone, so I hopped in the car with him.

The only thing we brought with us from Colt’s was the money and Gunner’s guns. He has Gunner’s truck and all of our things, and he’ll ship them first thing in the morning. But the only thing I want right now is for Dallas to be a cruel son of a bitch who lied because if what he toldGunner was true, I’m gonna have to watch him die right before my eyes the same way he did twelve years ago when he lost Margaret.

Gunner doesn’t say a word while he drives, and I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to upset him more than he already is.

Gunner rolls down his window and spits. He’s stopped crying, but his voice is hoarse from him doing it for two hours straight. “So your father just has a thing for mass murder.” I can feel the pain behind his words, and guilt takes over me.

“I’m so sorry, Gunner.”

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