Page 47 of Hell or High Water

“What all are we going to see?” she asked as I opened the door and held it for her.

“We’ve got a grain delivery from a local farmer about to happen, so we can start there and then move to the mash cookers and watch that from a distance. Then we will see the fermentation process and distillation,” I explained. “There are some loud areas, so I can give you earplugs if you’d like.”

I pulled the truck key from my pocket and unlocked the doors with a click. “Go grab your hair tie, and then I’ll get you suited up.”

She jogged out toward the truck, and I enjoyed the view. I should probably stop if I didn’t want to tour the distillery with a hard-on. Jerking my eyes off her, I stared at the building and tried to put her back in that box I’d kept her in. The no-touch, off-limits one that she’d managed to start easing out of.

Linc had set the ground rules, but if this was going to be for three months—and be unlike what I’d thought in the beginning, when I was sure I’d find shit out on her—then I needed him to lift the ban. Because we were on our sixth day of this, and I was teetering on the edge of doing something stupid.

I heard the familiar sounds of the back door rolling open on the distillery and the shouts from the workers who would handle the grain delivery. The truck must be pulling up. I turned to look and see what was taking Montana so long. She stood with the door open, but wasn’t moving. I squinted against the sun and shaded my eyes to see if I could tell what she was doing, but all I could see was her staring down at something.

“Grain is here, Six!” I called out. When she didn’t lift her head and acknowledge me, I tried calling her name. “Montana!” Still, I got no response.

What the hell was she doing?

I began walking her way, and the closer I got, the more concerned I became. She was just standing there like she was in some kind of trance. She’d gone to get a hair tie. What the hell could have happened to cause her to freeze and zone out?

“You good?” I asked as I neared her, but nothing. No movement.

Closing the distance with longer strides, I made it to her and touched her shoulder to get her attention.

She was trembling. Was there a snake, and I didn’t see it? I checked at her feet, but saw nothing.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked, my frustration growing, along with my worry. Keeping my hand on her, I squeezed her shoulder gently. “You gotta snap out of this, Six. You’re starting to scare me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She finally lifted her head, and I could see what she was holding once her long, dark tresses weren’t hiding it. There was some kind of folded blue paper in her hand. Was that a heart? Had something of her mother’s been in her purse and she’d forgotten about it? I knew losing someone could cause delayed trauma.

“Hey,” I said softer this time and moved her hair back off her shoulder, letting the silky strands run over my hand. Probably shouldn’t have touched it. Now I wanted to do it some more. “Talk to me,” I urged.

She said something so quietly that I couldn’t make it out, so I leaned closer.

“Repeat that.”

Her body shuddered as she drew in a breath. This was a bad reaction to finding something of her mother’s. Maybe she needed to see a therapist. I hadn’t known she was dealing so poorly with it.

“He found me.”

The words were barely audible, but I caught them this time.

He? This wasn’t about her mom. Who the fuck was he? My body went rigid as my concern began to morph into something else. A HE was making her act like this? Had she been in love with that dipshit she’d broken up with over text and found some letter from him in her purse? I realized I’d have preferred she be messed up over her mother’s death.

“Hewho, Montana?” I demanded.

She flinched, and I realized my voice had been a little harsh.

“I-I-can’t…don’t…” She shook her head as she stuttered over the words.

I was going to have to kill someone. This was not regulargirl dealing with breakup dramashit. Something had fucked with her. That, or I’d missed her mental imbalance, which could be very likely since I’d struggled to keep my eyes off her face and body.

Moving quickly, I reached around her and snatched the damn folded blue thing from her hands. She gasped and spun around to face me as I started opening the thing. As I opened each perfectly pressed corner, I realized there was a letter inside. I took another step back, expecting her to try and grab it, but she didn’t move. Not wasting time by checking out her expression in case she went psycho on me and lunged for the note, I began to read it.

Tsk, tsk. Did you run from me? Having had time to think about it, maybe leaving my last note on the table beside where you slept was too much. I enjoyed watching you sleep, but you’ve gone and made it difficult for me to get close to you. I miss you. I miss watching you. I thought my notes would ease you into being curious about me, wanting to know me, but it seems it’s done the opposite. I’ll need to rectify that mistake. Like I told you before, you don’t need to fear me. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.

Than Carver, however, needs to keep his hands off what is mine. And you, Montana, are mine.

“Who wrote this, and where did you get it?” I demanded, looking up from the paper.

She was pale. So fucking pale.

---