Page 82 of Bleeding Blackheart

“Yeah. Didn’t see that coming, did you? I brought you into this world, and I might just take you out. Maybe I should kill you just so I can revive your dumb ass and kill you again. Perhaps I’ll kill you differently each time. I’ll choke you out, then I’ll drown you. You could probably survive some stab wounds too.”

I open my mouth, trying to move my throat under his grip. When I start to fade, he lets go, and my face hits the floor.

“Or maybe I’ll leave you alone in here for a week without food. Maybe two. You really only need water to survive, Montana. I could give you a few sips every so often until you wither away to nothing like a dried out piece of fruit.”

My hair falls in my face and covers my lips, but I whisper to him through it. “Do whatever you want to me. It won’t change a damn thing.”

Mason kneels beside me and lowers his face to mine, brushing my hair out of the way. I try to avoid his gaze, but he grips my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Montana Elizabeth Barnes, my biggest regret in life is the fact that I allowed you to be in it. I’ve given you a chance to seek forgiveness, but you’ve done nothing but spit at me. Literally. You’re disgusting.” He scoffs. “You may not think so now, but you will beg for forgiveness. You will seek my mercy. When your frail, useless body isbleeding out, you’ll cry my name, asking me to save you. And all I’m going to do is make things worse until you drown in a pool of your own fluids. Even then, I’ll find you. I’ll haunt you for eternity. After I remove you from this world, you’ll see me again. In hell.”

35

Gunner

Three Weeks Later

Isit in an empty bar at a table in the corner across from Blade. He shows me the video on his phone again that I’ve requested to see four times already. My Montana being dragged unconscious into some warehouse this morning. He scratches his red beard with his calloused hands. “He’s there right now. About twenty minutes from here. I can kill him if you want. Your payment covers that.”

I take a look at the piece of paper in front of me, memorizing the map and address he wrote down. “That’s alright. I want to kill him myself. If you could handle cleanup, that’d be more than enough.”

Blade and I stand up, and he shakes my hand. “Sure thing. Call me when it’s done.”

I wait a moment for him to leave, and then I head out to the Camero and drive.

Three weeks. I haven’t held, seen, or kissed my baby in three weeks. But today, our suffering ends. Today, I’m rescuing my girl, and I’m killing the man who stole her from me.

I haven’t slept more than four hours per night for the past three weeks. I’ve spent every waking moment trying to find Montana. The day Dallas and I went to Nebraska and found nothing, we came back to town that night, calling any and everyone we could for information on Mason Barnes and Montana. Had anyone seen them? Did anyone know his plan? We didn’t get answers, and each person we asked ended up dead.

I drove around for hours a day, going in circles. I went back to the home Montana grew up in. I went through her old room and Mason’s office, spending hours searching for the slightest clue. I went back to the casino in Vegas where I was almost arrested for being recognized from the last time I was there. I went back to Colt’s to see if we’d left anything behind useful. I stopped at every motel, hotel, diner, and restaurant that Montana and I’d ever been to together. And all I did was waste time.

Through some connections from Colt and Dallas, I found some useful killers who had the skill to filet Mason in ways I never could, but I didn’t need a killer. I needed a hound. Someone to find him. I called endless amounts ofcandidates, but no one was good enough. Until three days ago.

I don’t know where Blade got his training, but there’s no one like him. And after receiving fifty thousand dollars up front, he found Mason and Montana in seventy-two hours.

He pinpointed that they were in Kansas yesterday, and I drove here immediately. It didn’t take him long to find the town and neighborhood, and once Montana’s back in my arms, he’ll get the other half of his money.

I take a peek in the back and see I have my shotgun, but I’m only going in with my pistols and knives. I don’t know where Mason will be hiding in the building, and I don’t want to be weighed down by anything heavy.

Here it is.

I pull up close to the warehouse and get out, going in a door at the back of the building. The lights are out when I get in, but I use a flashlight to guide me through.

This place was probably used for a major business at some point, but it’s a wasteland now. I listen out for any possible sounds, but there’s nothing.

I keep an eye on my watch, and after fifteen minutes of walking down corridors and going in circles, I stumble upon a room with a light coming from it.

I run to it, full speed ahead, and when I step over the threshold, I see her.

I barely recognize her with her black eye and busted lip. Blood drips slowly from her head, and her body slouches to the side on a metal chair.

Tears fill my eyes, and I don’t bother to hold them back. I don’t even say her name because I know she won’t hear me or believe I’m in front of her. When I’m a foot away, I kneel before her and pull out my knife to cut off the rope restraining her. Her healthy eye springs open, and she starts kicking and jostling while I hold her steady.

“Montana, it’s me. It’s me, baby. I’m right here.”

Her wide hazel eye focuses on me, and then she bursts into tears while her shoulders shake. She’s wearing nothing but a bra that used to be pink and coordinating underwear. Welts are on her chest from where he beat her with that belt, and her arms and legs are scraped from when she probably tried to escape.

I want to scoop her up and get her back to the car, but I can’t leave here until he’s dead. With Montana unchained, I stand up and turn around, and that’s when I see him.

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