Page 62 of Bleeding Blackheart

He sighs and rubs his head. “Quit saying sorry. It’s not like you’re the one who slaughtered them.”

I put a hand over my stomach and the other over my heart, trying to settle them both. “This happened because of me. This would’ve never happened to you if you didn’t meet me. This is all my fault.”

A sob catches in his throat, and he doesn’t respond, not wanting to admit that he knows my words are true.

I can hardly think on the way back to Gunner’s house. I was starving before we went to dinner, but I can’t bear to eat anything now that we’ve skipped it. My skin itches for no reason, and I just want to scrub myself clean. My bodyfeels like it wants to vomit, but I know nothing will come up other than spit and water.

The highway is nearly empty for our entire drive, and eventually we pull onto a back road, letting me know we’re getting closer. I put my hand on Gunner’s thigh while he drives, and he doesn’t brush me away, letting me comfort us both.

I’m terrified. It feels like that night all over again whenhetook me. I’m going to see dead bodies. The dead bodies of Gunner’s loves. I choke out a sob, covering my mouth while I try to stay quiet. Gunner pulls my hand in his, giving it steady pumps while we both wait anxiously to see everything.

It takes forever to finally pull up to the house, and when we do, Dallas comes from around the barn with blood all over his white shirt, tears still brimming his eyes.

Gunner and I get out at the same time, and when he goes up to Dallas, Dallas grips his arms, trying to hold him back. “You don’t want to see them like they are, man. I need—I need to get rid of them. Don’t go back there.”

Gunner breaks out of his grip, and I run behind him, promising myself he won’t face a second of this torture alone.

When we get to the stables, Gunner falls to his knees, whimpering softly. When I see what’s in front of us, Ikeel over, vomiting what little contents I have left in my stomach. Dallas remains where he is, pacing around in the front yard while he makes phone calls.

I finally muster up the strength to stand, and I sob quietly, unable to comprehend what I see before me.

There’s so much blood. My father didn’t just shoot these animals once. He shot them several times. Knowing him, he made them suffer.

And some of them . . . some of them are cut apart. Butchered and gutted.

Oh, Willow. Gunner crawls over to his favorite mare, pressing his face to her mane, shaking and shuddering. Her head’s been severed, and her body is scattered about.

I want to go up to him and comfort him, but I’m frozen in place. I feel like an outsider. An intruder. Someone spying on a moment they have no business witnessing. I feel warmth on my leg, and when I squeeze my thighs together, I realize I’ve peed myself again. I wipe my eyes, horrified, scared, and embarrassed when Gunner stands up, looking at the carnage.

He walks past me, over to Dallas, breathing heavily. “One of them is missing.”

Dallas shakes his head, confused. “What?”

Gunner goes back over to the wreckage, counting everything on the ground. “One of my horses is missing.”

I hear rattling in the distance, coming from the shed Gunner locked me in when he first brought me here. While the guys go back and forth, I go over to it slowly, prepared to fight with only my bare hands.

I have no idea what I’m getting ready to see. It could be my father lurking behind those doors. We could be getting ready to be ambushed. But I have to know.

Stepping closer, slowly and steadily, I make my way to the wooden doors and pull them open carefully. That’s when I see her.

“It’s Violet!” I holler toward them.

Both men look my way, and Gunner runs over to me quickly. I go inside the room, and she starts to scream, but when I put my hands on her face, she quiets down, and I press my face to her nose, letting her know she’s safe.

I hear a click behind me, and Gunner’s voice lowers. “Move out of the way, Montana.”

Looking over my shoulder at him, I see he’s holding a shotgun, and I throw myself in front of Violet, horrified. “Gunner, don’t do this.”

His lip quivers, and his shoulders shake. “Montana, get away from that goddamn beast right fucking now.”

I won’t let him take her. He can’t take her. “Gunner—”

“Montana!” His voice makes my bones shake.

I wrap my arms around her neck, praying I can protect her from his wrath. “Please don’t do this, Gunner. If you do, you’ll regret it.”

He stares her down. “The only thing I regret is not killing that useless piece of shit twelve years ago.”

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