Page 15 of Bleeding Blackheart

She stirs slightly, but she’s still asleep.

I like watching her sleep.

Her bandage will need changed soon, but I’ll do that after her bath. I should try and wake her, but I want some more quiet time with her before she starts bitchin’ and moaning again.

The blue dress she wears looks like it was made for her. It’s pretty, feminine, and modest, but I still want to hike it up.

Her brown skin glistens with sweat, probably from her body trying to heal itself.

She looks like a babydoll. Shiny, healthy hair, glossy skin, high cheekbones, and pretty, pouty, dark pink lips. But she’s trouble. I can feel it in my bones. And if I’m not careful, I’ll fall right into her trap.

She rustles in her sleep, and her chest rises and falls rapidly. I wonder if she has any children. Those things look like they were made for nursing.

I approach the bed slowly and sit at the edge of it, playing with the hem of her pretty dress. It’s so soft. Softer than anything I own. She starts to shake, and I stand up, feeling panicked. I hope to God I didn’t give her too much morphine.

I go up to remove her IV, and when I grab her arm, she screams at the top of her lungs with her eyes closed. I’ve caused the girl to have a goddamn nightmare.

I remove the needle quickly, and once I’ve got her arm bandaged up, I shake her by it aggressively, trying to snap her out of whatever the fuck she’s in. “Montana!”

She screams louder and starts to cry, and my pulse elevates against my will.

I unchain both of her arms but she doesn’t stop screaming and wailing. That’s when I realize I have to take things to the extreme.

Rearing my hand back, I slap her across the face, solely to knock her back to reality. Her eyes spring open, and when they meet mine, she sobs uncontrollably.

I don’t know if she knows I slapped her, but I sure as hell am not gonna tell her. She sits up carefully and draws her legs to her chest. She looks like she needs a hug desperately. I stand by, waiting for her to get her shit together, and when she quits wailing, I get her attention.

“Take your clothes off and get ready for your bath. We’ll have dinner afterward.”

Still dazed from her terror, she stands up slowly and starts to slide out of her dress. I turn away from her knowing she’s not in a position to attack and give her a slight second of privacy to get a bubble bath going for her.

Standing in just her panties, she comes into the bathroom, and I help her remove her bandages slowly. The skin is starting to heal rapidly with the ointment I put on it, and her skin should be able to tolerate soap a little better this time.

She looks zoned out while she slips down her underwear in front of me, revealing her bloody pad.

It’s more blood than I expected and less at the same time. Margaret was on the pill when we were together and always skipped her period. I’ve never seen anything like this.

Montana stands by the tub with her underwear at her ankles in shock, still not fully herself after waking up.

“Get in.” I nudge her gently to the tub, and I grab her underwear, chucking the soiled pad and putting the lace fabric in my wash basket to deal with some other time.

I keep an eye on her for a second to make sure she doesn’t drown. After a minute, she looks up at me with her arms wrapped around her legs. “Thank you.”

I don’t know what I’m getting thanked for. It could be the bath or for changing her diaper, but I don’t care what it’s for. Tired and irritable, I slip off my shirt and start to take off my jeans.

Her big doe eyes turn into marbles. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m about to take a shower inmyfucking bathroom.”

Ignoring her death stare, I slide my pants down my legs and slip off my drawers. Once I’m butt naked, I give her my back, get my own water going, and step behind the glass.

7

Montana

I’m nearly thirty, and I’ve never seen a man naked before. Not before today at least. And the image of Blackheart’s naked body will stay burned in my memory for the rest of my days.

My body shivers under the warm bath. It’s a lot nicer than the freezing cold one he prepared for me earlier today. I could almost trick myself into thinking he’s a nice guy if he didn’t yell and curse at me so much. And if he didn’t handcuff me to the bed. I was sleeping well until, until I had a nightmare. The nightmare I’ve had every single day since my father captured me. It’s the most vivid nightmare I’ve ever had, and I’m scared the terror may kill me one of these days.

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