Page 38 of Bleeding Blackheart

“I don’t know how he found me at Charlotte’s apartment that night, but he said he’d been watching me for months. Following me. That he’d always find me. And he told me after he’d captured me that after a week, he was going to torture me for hours on end until I died. He said there was not enough suffering he could bring me for the way I’d betrayed him. That I’d thrown away our relationship and would never get his love back. His love that I never had to begin with.”

I will kill Mason Barnes if it’s the last thing I do.

I grip the wheel, terrified that I’ll break Montana’s hand if I hold it right now. “You need a better plan, Montana.”

“I’m sorry?”

He’ll find her. If she sticks with her shitty plan of running off to nowhere again, he’ll find her. “You need a better plan, Montana. A few thousand dollars is not enough to get you going. You need a new identity.”

She takes off my shades again, tossing them in her cup holder. “I’ve been taking care of myself long before I met you. I’ll be fine.”

I pick up my shades and put them on. “Oh. Is that why I found you butt naked in a stream half-dead?”

Her voice rises an octave. “Look. I’ve spent my whole life with a jackass man making all of my decisions for me. And if you think you’re next in line, you can take a hike.”

The last man in the world I want to be compared to is Mason Barnes. I want to talk some sense into my angry little fox, but I don’t want to start a fight. Letting silence win, I keep my mouth shut and drive, taking us to our next destination.

17

Montana

Isit on the bed of our hotel while Gunner talks on the phone across the room. Dallas called to check in on us, and now they’re talking about the horses and how much they miss my cowboy. I miss the horses too.

It’s my second full day with Gunner, but it feels like a month. After Charlotte and my father, he knows more about me than anyone else. And I know more about him than I ever expected him to share.

He’s so mean and angry. He’s got the mouth of a sailor and the rage of a bull. But he’s charming, very good-looking, and the thought of saying goodbye to him tomorrow makes me sad almost. I’m sad that my kidnapper is letting me go.

I look down at the leather dress he bought me, still in shock that he’s got such great taste and that I let a man dress me. If I could write down my ideal man on paper, he is the antithesis of what I’d come up with, but the thoughtof being with someone not like him feels boring. I can’t believe I want to date him.

And I asked him to fuck me. And touch my body. I’d almost be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve been through very intense trauma recently. That’s what I’m blaming my behavior on. Trauma. Because a man who spanks me and chokes me out is not someone I should be asking to enter my body.

But the ache for him is still present today.

Though I hate to admit it, he’s right. My plan does suck, but what else am I supposed to do? I have no one else to rely on. Nowhere else to go. My only other option is to ask Gunner to take me in like some lost little mare. And there’s no way in hell I’d do that.

The thought of living with him is impossible to imagine. And what would we be anyway? Not a couple, that’s for sure. Friends? No, we fight too much for that. Lovers? There’s not an ounce of love between us. How could I ever love that crazy man? And he could never love me. All of his love is with Margaret in the ground. God rest her soul. I hate that he lost her. Losing her was the end of his life.

He gets off his call and looks over at me like he wants to climb on top of me. But as soon as his leering gaze appears, it’s gone, and he puts back on his angry mask and tucks hishands in his worn jean pockets. “Put your shoes back on. We’re going back out.”

I get up slowly when I’d really rather get back in bed and go to sleep. My period’s almost over, but I’m still fatigued from it. And I haven’t had the luxury of a hot bath since day one. “Where are we going?”

He puts on his black cowboy hat that matches his black tee. “Bar.”

I slide into my leather pumps that are far more comfortable than they look. “Don’t you like to eat anywhere else but bars?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Nope.”

I grab my purse that we bought on the way here. With each day that goes by, Gunner treats me a little bit better. Not much, but I’m hoping we’re out of the worst of our situationship. “Is that how you are when you’re dating? You just take women to bars to eat?”

He scowls and grabs my arm, yanking me to his side. “I don’t date.”

I drag my feet on the ground while he hauls me out to his truck. “Oh, I get it. You just fuck then.”

He slaps my ass to reprimand me when I hop into my seat. “No smart-ass. Since you’re so fucking nosy, I haven’t fucked in twelveyears.”

Twelve years. The last woman he’s been with is Margaret? My heart breaks, feeling the magnitude of his love for her grow larger than I originally thought. I cross my legs when he hops in beside me. “I’m sorry.”

“The hell are you sorry for? I can get laid whenever I want. I choose not to.”

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