10. Montana

10

Montana

I wake up at three-thirty a.m. with my head pounding. I had the nightmare again. The one where my father takes me. It replays in my brain the exact way it happened that night, and each time I’m revisited by it, I’m forced to go through the torture all over again.

I wanted to wake up. I tried to. There’s a part of the dream missing, and it’s when I wake up from getting knocked out. It ends with me kicking and screaming while he drags me on the ground.

Then I heard my name being called outside the dream. I don’t know where from, but I couldn’t get up.

I look around quickly when I remember I’m no longer locked in his cage. And then I feel a head on my shoulder and see it’s Blackheart sleeping on me. I almost try to push him away but stop myself. I need to be quiet. This is my chance to get away .

My wrist aches, and I remember we’re still cuffed. I need a key. Where would he have a spare key? I glance over to my bedside table where he left all the medical supplies. It may be a long shot, but there might be one in the drawer.

I slide my body away from his slowly, as slowly as I can, and ease my empty hand over to the table.

Just a little closer.

I look back at him once more, and he’s still asleep. My brain tells me to stop, but my heart says to keep going. I turn my body to the side ever so slightly and put my hand on the table.

When I see he’s still knocked out, I grab the antique handle to the drawer slowly and pull it gently.

Oh my God. There’s really a key in here.

My hand shakes, and my heart races. I dip my fingertips down into the box when I feel his hand wrap around my neck from behind, yanking me to his chest.

His deep, sleepy voice filters into my ears. “Oh, little fox. You shouldn’t have done that. Now I have to punish you. You’re not going to like how I punish you.”

“Please, I can explain—”

He reaches over me, grabbing the key, and then he frees himself from the handcuffs, leaving me still attached to them .

I sit up on his silk sheets, shaking while he goes over to his jeans and grabs his belt. He’s going to spank me. This crazy fucking bastard is going to spank me like I’m a little kid.

My eyes water, and I brush my hair out of my face. “Blackheart, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I’m not sorry, but I have to make him believe I am.

He looks at me disapprovingly and sits in the wicker chair by his dresser. “Come here, Montana.” He holds the belt in his hands, and I start to sweat, wondering how many lashings he plans on giving me.

I stand up slowly, and hold my hands at my sides. I take one step closer to him, but I turn, trying to catch him off guard while I bolt for the door. He’s on my heels before I can step over the threshold, and he yanks me back in the room by my waist, causing me to lose my footing and stumble.

“Bend over the bed, Montana. Now.”

I’m not getting away from him. I’ll get through this. I’ve been through worse. And as soon as he lets me go, I’ll make him suffer.

On shaky legs, I go over to his bed and bend over. The cool air inside the house cuts into my skin, making me shiver. Blackheart’s heavy footsteps come over to me, and I hear his voice while he stands behind my back. “Lift your dress.”

My heart is pounding so hard that it feels like it’s palpitating. “Why don’t you do it, you fucking monster?!” I shout at him.

His rough fingers slip under the fabric of my chemise while he lifts it slowly. Then he yanks down my panties, exposing my pad. “Do you want my belt or my hand, Montana?”

I cry softly into the mattress, wishing I could crawl into a hole. “Hand.” I’ve felt his hand on my ass before, and it’s not that bad. His belt is what I’m scared of.

I hear the leather accessory drop on the floor behind me, and then my body jolts when his palm collides with my bare ass. “This is what happens to bad little bitches, Montana. They get punished so that they don’t make the same mistakes.”

I cry harder when he smacks my other ass cheek with more force.

He smacks my left cheek again, and I clench my thighs together while my clit twitches. When he smacks my right ass cheek again, I bite my tongue, trying not to moan.

Getting spanked by him feels good. It hurts, but it feels good. After each cheek gets five, he pulls back and grunts through shallow breaths. I peek over my shoulder and see that angry bulge staring back at me, letting me know this affected him the same way it did me. I must have brain damage. My kidnapper pulled down my panties and spanked me, and I liked it.

No. There’s a name for this. It’s called Stockholm syndrome. I’m being manipulated.

He pulls up my panties slowly, and one of his knuckles grazes the seam of my ass which only makes me feel more wanton. I hate him with every part of me and want to gouge out his eyes with my bruised hands. But I want him to keep hurting me just the same.

After he covers my ass with my nightgown, he leaves me where I am and sits back in his chair. “Have you learned your lesson?”

I glance over at him, still bent over with tear-streaked eyes. “I have.”

His throat bobs and he leans back in his chair with his strong legs spread. “Good. Get in bed and go back to sleep.”

I crawl back under his soft blanket, hating that I miss his warm body next to mine when I lay my head on my pillow. “What are you going to do?” I utter cautiously.

He runs his hand over his shaved face. “I’m staying right here until morning.”

I wake up at six a.m. with the smell of coffee under my nose. “Get up and drink this,” Blackheart growls. He’s already dressed wearing a white button-down with blue jeans, tan boots, and a white hat. He looks ready for a photo shoot.

I touch my head and feel that my bandage has been replaced with a tiny piece of gauze. He must’ve changed my bandage after I went back to sleep two hours ago. I guess my wound is much better than it was when he found me. I take the cup and give it a whiff. It smells divine. “Did you poison it?”

He shakes his head, smirking. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Not like you could do anything about it if I did, so don’t worry about it. Hurry up. I need you to get dressed and help me feed the girls before Dallas gets here. Then we need to hit the road.”

Dallas? I don’t know who the hell that is, and I’m not sure I want to know. He can’t possibly keep good company. Only two more nights of his torture and then I’ll be free. I can do this. I bring the mug to my lips slowly, and I take a small sip to check if it’s too hot. When I confirm it’s not, I drink it quickly while he pulls the blanket off me and grabs the medical supplies from my bedside table.

Blackheart doesn’t look at me while he cleans my wounds and changes the bandages on my arms and legs, but he handles me carefully. I look at my wrist and see the handcuffs are gone too. He must’ve taken them off when he changed the bandage on my head. He’s just as gentle with me as he is with his pride and joy, Willow. How can a man be this slow and gentle, and then turn around and beat my ass while I cry? I just don’t know why he hates me so much. Or why he’s bothering to take care of me in the first place.

I think about our trip and try to get his attention. “If we’re on the road by seven, we’ll probably get there a little after midnight on Sunday morning. Not including breaks of course.”

He looks up at me with a raised brow. “We’re not getting there by midnight, Montana.”

“But I thought you said you wanted the money by Monday.”

He stands up, looking down at me. “I did. Originally. But I’m not driving sixteen-plus hours with no rest. We’ll get there on Monday. Tuesday at the latest. ”

Tuesday? That means I have to sleep with this man for three more nights. Over seventy-two hours with this barbarian. “I can drive.”

He licks his plump lips. “With what ID?”

My ID. I don’t have a fucking ID. My purse is still at Charlotte’s apartment in Colorado. Probably in her bathroom. My father told me he got rid of the bodies and cleaned up the place so it looked like nothing happened. The families of Charlotte’s friends just think they went missing. Her mom and dad think she just ran off. There will never be justice for any of them.

I get a flash of my enemy’s face in my mind, and I start to sweat. “What about my father?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “What about him?”

I clench my eyes shut so I don’t roll them. My ass is still tender, and I don’t want to start my morning with another spanking. “You’re supposed to be working for my father, Blackheart. You told me I had to be dead and returned to him by Monday morning. When I’m not, he’s going to come for you and me both. We won’t stand a chance.”

This is why I wanted to get him the money before then. Not so he could run, but so I could. It’ll only make it too easy on Mason Barnes if he’s hunting for me and Blackheart and finds out we’re still together. Two birds with one stone and all that .

He smiles like I just told a joke. “I’m not scared of your daddy, little girl. I’ll handle him when and if necessary.”

Idiot. The stupidest man I’ve ever met. The man has a ranch and a makeshift hospital, but he can’t see the trouble he’s walking right into. “You have to protect me. We made a deal. I get you the money, you don’t let him find me. That means I’ll need a little to get me going once we break up.”

He looks at me stoically with his hands at his sides. “You have my word. Get me my money, and I’ll make sure you’re set.”

For the first time in the past week, I feel like I can let out a tiny breath. Not a big enough one to make me relax, but one that makes me feel like Blackheart might not kill me as long as I do what he wants.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead he gazes lecherously at my body. He looks at me like a man who hasn’t seen a woman in lingerie in ten years. I let my eyes follow his stare to see what he’s so focused on, and when I look down and see my right nipple peeking out of the top of my lace cup, I shove it back in and glower at him. “Don’t you watch porn?” I don’t see a TV in his room but I know he has to have one. I don’t know why I’m his new addiction when he could just get off to anything online .

He chuckles and adjusts his hat. “Yeah. But it’s nothing like the real thing, is it?”

I wouldn’t know, but I’d rather not tell him that. “I guess not.”

The tension only thickens between us while we stare at each other. His jaw tightens and his eyebrows draw together, and I’m the first to look away.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he snaps his fingers at me like I’m one of his mares. “Use the bathroom, get changed, then we’ll go out to the stables.”

I stand up slowly, feeling my heavy pad and the second day pain from my cramps. “I only have dresses.”

He nods his head. “I know. So get to it and put one of them on. We don’t have all day, Montana. And my girls are hungry.” I’m hungry too, thanks for asking.

Walking slowly to my belongings, I see he has my toiletries packed, but my clothes are all laid out on the dresser for me to pick what I want. I hate that he chose clothes for me to wear, but I’m glad that he got me bras and panties. Even if he’s a bigger fan of them than I am.

The feel of his gaze stays on me while I grab my things and when I go in the bathroom, I see he’s looking inside. Not at me, but in the room. He puts his headphones in without me asking, and it makes me so happy that I almost want to cry. Except I don’t because I realize I’m getting the lowest of low treatment still.

I get a fresh washcloth from the linen closet when he barks at me. “The hell are you doing?”

“I need to freshen up.” I look back at him for him to protest, but when he doesn’t, I face forward in the mirror and dampen the cloth to quickly wipe between my thighs. I get dressed quickly in a brown lace bra with matching panties and a pink sundress with white flowers. This dress is exactly like something Charlotte would’ve worn. I push her face out of my mind while I brush out my hair and head back into the bedroom.

Blackheart looks satisfied at my attire and points at my tan pair of boots. “Wear those today.”

Great. He’s gone from buying my clothes to telling me what to wear with my clothes. Too tired for a fight, I grab a pair of socks and slip on my more stylish boots which are more comfortable than I expected.

After grabbing his shotgun, we head downstairs together, and I breathe in the fresh air when we step outside to head to the stables.

He points to his private area by the stables. “I chopped carrots this morning. Give them to all the girls, then feed them grass. I’ll do water. ”

Like last night, we work together quietly and quickly. The girls are even friendlier this morning, and I give them all kisses and scratches while I feed them their treats. Blackheart watches me closely while I give them affection, but he doesn’t chastise me for doing so, so I don’t stop. It’s when I get to Violet that he starts to get irritated. “That’s enough. Get back inside and get breakfast going.”

Standing outside of her stall, I hold my hand on the gate, staring him down. “You can wait five minutes.”

He approaches me swiftly with his gun in hand. “I want breakfast. Now. That was a part of our deal.”

I step away from Violet, not wanting her to feel my negative energy. “I never agreed to be your maid.”

He puts his chest to mine while his nostrils flare. “You offered to do whatever I want. So I suggest you get your ass back in that damn house right now and start frying me some fucking eggs, or I’ll find something more labor-intensive for you to do that involves that smart fucking mouth of yours.”

The fucking gall of this motherfucker. I shove his chest, stumbling back when he doesn’t budge. “I won’t be your whore.”

He grips my throat like I’m a chicken getting ready for slaughter. “You’ll be whatever the fuck I want you to be, Montana. ”

I hear footsteps approaching behind me, and then a voice just as deep as Blackheart’s cuts into our conversation. “Everything alright?”

Blackheart removes his hand from my neck like he just got burned. “Everything’s fine, Dallas. Montana’s just getting ready to make us some breakfast.”

Dallas. Blackheart’s asshole friend. Now there are two assholes to tell me what to do. I turn away from the beast, deciding I’d rather fry eggs than suck dick. I’ve never sucked a dick before, and I’m sure Blackheart would make the experience so horrible for me that I’d never want to do it again.

Dallas looks me up and down slowly. He’s got dark brown hair just like Blackheart’s, but his is cut short. He wears a denim shirt with matching blue jeans and tan boots like mine. When I look into his green eyes, he winks at me. “I like my bacon extra crispy, honey.”

I spit at his shoes, and he laughs deeply while I head back in the house to pay my dues.