22. Montana

22

Montana

M y wrist aches, and I’ve spent the past hour and a half crying. Maybe two. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here like this. All I know is that when I get loose, I’m never speaking to Gunner again.

I look between my thighs, grimacing at my dried blood mixed with his cum.

He hurt me. He was aggressive. Way more aggressive than I expected him to be. And I can forgive him for that. I sat there, taking it, because despite the pain, I still wanted him. Though my body felt like it was being split in half, I wanted to help fill his need and satisfy his craving. I wanted his touch. I liked that he wanted me even if he wasn’t great at expressing it.

What I can’t forgive him for is leaving me up here like a piece of meat to rot. His words play back in my head, saying I lied to him. If I did, I didn’t mean to. It didn’ t feel like the right time to tell him it was my first time. And I honestly didn’t think it mattered.

I don’t know if I’m just fucked up from his torture and brainwashing, but I would’ve apologized ten times over for not telling him if that would’ve made him happy. Then the cuffs were back on me, and it was like day one all over again when I had to prove myself to him. After all we’ve been through, he locked me back up and treated me like a stranger. I just feel used and discarded.

I was stupid to think he could develop feelings for me. Or that I could grow to like him. How could I like him? He’s evil. And I shouldn’t like him. He abused me and dominated me and treated me like a servant. I should’ve killed him last night in his sleep, taken his car, and ran.

If my father could see me right now, he’d tell me what a disappointment I am. That this is exactly what I deserve for putting another man first. That I asked for this. Earned this.

I try to move my legs to get in a more comfortable position, and I feel so sore between them, needing painkillers and a hot bath.

The stairs creak outside the bedroom, then heavy feet move along the floor. I bring my knees to my chest, trying to shield myself from whatever’s about to come in here .

The door opens, and Gunner stands in the doorway with his eyebrows drawn together, still looking pissed off.

I wait for him to apologize. To rush over to me and beg on his knees for forgiveness. But he doesn’t do any of those things. He just stands there like an idiot while his eyes roam over me, looking at the mess he left.

When I can’t stand to look at him anymore, I face the open windows, and he comes up to me slowly, pulling a key out of his pocket.

He’s letting me go. Whatever torture he had planned for me, he’s giving up on it. I grit my teeth while he removes the shackles, and as soon as my hand is free, he looks in my eyes again.

“Montana—”

I slap him as hard as possible, letting out a cry mixed with a scream when my hand collides with his cheek. “Fuck you. Go to hell.”

Standing up, I push past him, and he grabs my arm forcefully. “Wait a sec—”

I hear noise downstairs and scream at the top of my lungs, trying to alert anyone who can help me. Gunner lets me go immediately, and I run back into the master bathroom, my heart pounding as soon as I get the door shut behind me .

He bangs on the door, shouting through it while my body jolts against it, using everything within me to keep him out.

I can’t believe I let this man inside me. I let him come inside me. I start to sob again, and I yell through the door telling him to go away over and over. My head hurts while he yells back, begging me repeatedly to open up and let him in.

I look around the bathroom quickly, trying to find some sort of weapon to protect myself. I get off the door, pushing a vanity chair under it to keep it closed while I find a pair of hair cutting scissors.

He tries to break the door down, and then I hear another voice. Another man, yelling at him. The other man leans against the bathroom door, talking to Gunner. “Go downstairs. Let her be, man. Get a hold of yourself, or I’m making you leave.”

I hear Gunner sniffle, and then he exits, but the other person doesn’t. I stand by, prepared for a fight while he speaks through the door. “Hey, Montana. I’m Colt. Stay in here as long as you want. He’ll be downstairs tonight. You two can work things out in the morning.”

Colt. The owner of the house. Another one of Gunner’s friends. I almost laugh to myself at the encounters I’ve had with his friends. They’re saints compared to him. I can’t imagine how they get along with him.

His footsteps trail off too, and once I hear the bedroom door close, I start to breathe normally.

Removing the vanity chair slowly, I pull open the bathroom door and run across the bedroom floor, locking myself in for the night. I’m safe. No one can get me here. I’ll be alright.

On shaking legs, I go back to the bathroom and get a bath going, filling it with some fancy soap from under the sink. I’m so tired that I could drown in this tub tonight. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. I’ve been through so much bad that I can’t take any more.

After the water is to the top, I step into the tub and rest my head on my knees while I cry out the rest of the tears I have left.

I roll over in Colt’s bed and see it’s ten a.m. That means I got less than six hours of sleep. I want to bury my head back under the pillow, but Gunner said we were heading out of here first thing in the morning. I still plan on leaving here today but not with him. I need to get dressed, grab my bags, and ask Colt to help me get a cab away from here.

When I sit up, my pussy is still sore, but I push through the pain, putting back on the leather dress I wore the other day, and slide into my boots. My outfit may be used and dirty, but at least my hair is clean. Colt’s bathroom is like one at a hotel but better. Various selections of shampoos and hair products, and a blow dryer. My waves are wavier and thicker, and after finding a scrunchie and some hair gel, I slick my hair into a bun on top of my head.

I didn’t realize how heavy my bag was. Gunner’s always carrying it. But I carry it myself while I drag it down the hall and the wooden steps.

When I get to the first floor, I spot the both of them in the kitchen drinking coffee. They look at me at the same time, and after they glance between each other, Gunner opens his mouth to speak. I cut him off before he can start and focus my attention on Colt. “Do you have a phone I can borrow?”

He reaches for his sitting in front of him on the counter when Gunner glares at him.

Colt is handsome. Really handsome. He’s got bright blue eyes just like Gunner, and his hair is long like his too, but it’s black. I wonder if he’s single. And if he’s nicer than the mean man staring at me. He looks back and forth between me and Gunner nervously, and then he looks at me apologetically. “I can’t get in the middle of this, Montana.”

I lean up against the wall groaning when Colt stands up straight. “Talk to him. Talk to him, and if you don’t like what he says, I promise I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go. But hear him out first.”

I look back up at Colt who lends me a soft smile. He’s so calm and gentle. Then I look over at Gunner who’s rough and rowdy. I don’t want to speak to him. I don’t want to be near him. My eyes start to water again, and I blink them a few times when he stands up. “Let’s go outside.”

I give Colt one last glance, but when he gives me his back, I know there’s no reasoning with him on this. Wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, I walk beside Gunner, keeping as much space between us as possible while we head out back.

He stays quiet while we walk along the grass, and I use every bit of strength I have not to break down. My shirt and shorts are still out here from last night, and all I can think about is how happy I was before Gunner took me upstairs. He tries to walk ahead of me to get my clothes, but I reach them first, pulling them out of his grasp.

He sighs and looks over at me. “Wait here. ”

Feeling exhausted, I stand in the middle of the field while he runs off to the barn, and when he comes out, he has a large blanket under his arm and lays it on the grass.

“Come sit.”

I sit down on the blanket across from him, looking at the man I wish I never met.

He starts his argument off strong and basic. “I’m sorry, Montana.”

His words feel honest and sincere, but I’m still so crushed.

“You left me up there for two hours, Gunner. Dirty and alone for two hours.”

He grimaces.

“I just can’t believe after the past few days that you’d treat me like that. I thought—I thought you might actually like me a little. But I was wrong and stupid. You really fucking hurt me. Physically and emotionally, Blackheart.”

“Don’t call me that, Montana.”

I stand up, getting ready to leave him out here alone. “That’s who you are. Isn’t that why you’re called that? Because you have a black heart. You’re cold, cruel, and uncaring.” I spin on my heel, stepping onto the wet grass when my stomach hits the ground hard from two strong hands grabbing my ankles .

“GET OFF ME!” I scream as loud as I can, hoping Colt will come out and help me. Gunner flips me onto my back, pinning me down by my wrists and dirtying my hair. I’m transported back to last night again, and I cry while he sits on his heels, hovering over my center.

Huffing, he holds me down effortlessly. “I do like you, Montana. And it’s unacceptable that I treated you like that. You’re not wrong, and you’re not stupid. I am.”

I want to knee him in his dick and crawl away, but when I look into his eyes, all I can think about is when he kissed me last night. How for a brief moment, it felt like I was his girl. “Why did you leave me like that?”

He grips my wrists tighter. “Because I’m a mess, Montana. I don’t know how to date. I suck at being romantic, and you’re so pretty and I was so weak that I didn’t treat you how you deserved. And when I realized that I’d given you a very traumatic experience, I felt guilty, and I wanted to make you hate me because I don’t deserve you, Montana. I deserve to be alone.” He finally lets my hands go but stays over me.

I want to hate him. I want to tell him he’s dead to me, but I can’t tell him that because I wouldn’t mean it. “No one deserves to be alone.”

He frowns. “I do. I’ve done nothing but hurt you since I met you. I’m the reason Margaret’s dead. I kill people for pennies. I deserve worse than hell.” He eases off me and sits back on the blanket with his legs stretched out, leaning on his hands.

I’m free to go. I heard him, and I listened, and I can turn my back on him and leave these past few days in the back of my mind with the rest of my trauma. But I can’t leave him. My body won’t let me no matter how much my brain wants to.

I take out my wet scrunchie and fluff out my damp waves. “Why do you want me to stay?”

While Gunner hasn’t asked me to stay since last night, it’s clear that he still wants me here.

He sighs and smirks. “Because I have a friend in that house who doesn’t want me to fuck up my life more than I already have and helped me realize that I need you in my life even though I have no right to be in yours.”

I want to forgive and forget. It’s what Charlotte would do. But I wear my heart on my sleeve, and when I get burned, it’s hard to let things go. “Where are we supposed to go from here, Gunner?”

He plays with the ring on his tattoo-faded fingers. “I want you to give me another chance.”

The words murderer , abuser , psychopath , gaslighter , and narcissist flash in my mind. Gunner is exactly the type of guy that mothers tell their daughters to stay away from .

But my mother’s not around anymore.

I stand up, wiping dirt and grass off me and give him my meanest look, trying to make him sweat. When his ears turn red is when I can’t take it anymore, and I show off the smile I’m trying to hold back. “One last chance.”