32. Montana

32

Montana

G unner holds my hand while we walk through the store to get me a new phone. I used to always have my phone on me. I’d scroll for hours a day on my private social media accounts, and I’d watch TV and movies when I was out in public to keep myself entertained. The day I lost my phone privileges was the day my father took me. I’m still in disbelief that was eight days ago. It’s been so long since I’ve had a phone that I’ve gotten used to life without it. And Gunner has one, so I have access to one if I need. I’m almost fine doing without.

I point to a tiny phone that could fit into my pocket. “That one’ll do. And it’s the cheapest.”

Gunner rolls his eyes and goes over to the newest rollout. “Montana, you’re being ridiculous. I may not be as rich as Mason Barnes, but I do have money to my name. And, I’ve got all of your money in the back of our car. ”

I pick up the phone attached to the wire that he hands me. “It’s your money, Gunner. Igave it to you per our agreement.”

He pinches my ass and lowers his lips to my ear. “It’s our money, Montana. And you’re getting the damn phone. I hate having to replace shit. We need to get you something that’ll last.”

He calls over a store associate while people buzz around, telling him we want to purchase. When the guy asks me what color device I want, I shrug my shoulders. “The white one will do.”

He nods his head and walks away, and Gunner takes me to the cases. “Pick one out.”

I feel so crazy doing regular things after the past several days. I’ve seen so many people and animals die. And my father is still out there. I can’t believe he’d just leave like that. I mean, it’s not the strangest thing, but he loves revenge. I must really mean nothing to him if he would give up on his threat so quickly.

“I have no idea, Gunner.”

He rubs my back through my pink sundress. “What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh to myself. I can’t believe Gunner doesn’t know my favorite color. He knows my worst fears and who my first crush was, but he doesn’t know my favorite color. “It’s violet.”

He grunts and gives me another eye roll. “Violet. Just like that goddamn horse.”

I shove him playfully in an attempt to get him to smile. “Thanks for keeping her.”

He picks out a case that matches my preferences. “She’s your horse, Montana. Not mine.”

I smile again, excited to see her later. Gunner dragged his feet tending to her this morning, so I went out and fed her and gave her water. After spending another thirty minutes grooming her, he said that in order for him not to kill her, I’d have to take care of her. That she’s mine, and he wants nothing to do with her. So I agreed, and now Violet’s my baby. Gunner’s not gonna lay a hand on her.

When our associate gets back, he helps set up my phone and puts the case on it. “Would you like a tutorial?”

Gunner declines, and once we pay, he takes me back to the Camero and takes the phone from me.

Despite my aversion to it, I’m looking forward to having it back. “What are you doing with it?”

He types rapidly and scrolls in between his movements. “I’m setting it up to my liking. Your location is turned on so I can always find you. Mine’s on for you if you need to find me. You have Colt, Dallas, and Cali’s numbers. But try to never call Cali if you can avoid it. If you want to add anyone else to your phone, I need to know first, Montana. And no one else gets your location but me. Whatever you do, do not call your father from this device. Do you understand me?”

I grab my cell from his opened hand. “Yes, sir.”

He pats my thigh, getting the car started. “Good. If you break any of my rules, I’ll confiscate it.”

I laugh while he stays silent and start messing around with my new gadget while he drives down the road.

I sit on the bed in the guest room downstairs that Gunner took me in when he let me borrow Margaret’s shoes. He starts shoving random things in the room into bags, getting ready to donate some of the clutter.

I glance at the pile of pumps and sandals he has yet to touch. “They’re gorgeous shoes. Whoever finds them will be very fortunate.” One of my favorite things to do before all of this happened was go thrifting. I loved finding unique and vintage goods that no one else had and wondering how the pieces ended up where they did .

Gunner picks up an unworn pair of silver stilettos. “Do you want them?”

I look at the shoes, bewildered. They’re beautiful. I’d love to have the sandals, but I don’t think I have the right to. “They’re gorgeous. But no, thank you.”

He sets them down on the dresser in the room. “Why not?”

Damn. I really want those shoes. “Because they were hers. It just doesn’t seem right. Someone else can have them.”

He bends down, scooping up shoes from the pile and putting them on the bed next to me. “I’m not offering you just that pair, Montana. I want you to have all of them.”

All of them? My eyes roam over the gorgeous options, trying to take everything in. When a few of the brands catch my eyes, I realize this pile is worth thousands of dollars. “I can’t, Gunner. I want to, but I can’t.”

He picks up the silver pumps on the dresser, bringing them up to my bare feet. “Montana, Margaret’s shoes meant more to her than anything in this world. So much so that I couldn’t let them burn in a house fire. She would hate it if these were dumped in some consignment store to not be cared for and bought by random people who won’t treasure them .

“You’ll take care of them. Please. Have them. I know you want them. She hasn’t worn ninety percent of these. And they’d look so damn sexy on you.”

I give him my feet, allowing him to slide the sandals on and latch the buckles around my ankles. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Is this not going to trigger you?”

Gunner lifts one of my legs, inspecting the shoe on me with a pleased look. “Yes, I’m okay with this. And no, I’m not triggered. I’d be triggered if you make me drop these off somewhere. They’re mine to do what I want with, Montana. Well, they were mine. Now they’re yours.”

I’m overwhelmed looking at all of the pumps beside me, feeling out of place and honored to be in possession of things that were so important to Gunner’s first love. He’s right. I will take care of these shoes. These are more special to me than anything else I’ve had before.

“I wish I could’ve met Margaret.” It feels so silly to say, but I can tell she was so special to so many people, and she sounds exactly like the kind of girl I’d be friends with.

Gunner’s shoulders drop, and he glances at the shoes. “I wish you could’ve met her too. I see so much of her in you, Montana. You two are so different but so alike too. I hope that’s okay for me to say.”

To be compared to someone who he was in love with, to be told I’m like her and he sees her in me is very bizarre, but surprisingly flattering. “It’s okay. However you feel is okay. Feelings aren’t always right and wrong. Sometimes they just are.”

He stands up and runs a hand through my hair. “I don’t know where the hell you came from, but I’m glad you ended up here.”

I cover his hand with mine, feeling happier than I’ve been in a long time.

He starts picking up shoes, getting ready to take them upstairs. “Go ahead and get your overnight bag packed.”

I stand up in my heels, feeling like a beauty queen. I almost forgot we’re leaving for Seattle first thing in the morning, We’re only staying the night, but I’ll be able to get my things and close out my lease.

I’m finally getting a fresh start. After months of looking over my shoulder, running, hiding, and panicking, I’m finally getting a fresh start.

I wake up before Gunner at six a.m. to feed Violet. Usually he wakes up before me and is inside me by the time I open my eyes, but I want some time with my girl before we leave her to go on our trip .

I ease out of bed slowly, not wanting to wake him. I’ve been able to catch up on sleep a bit, but I still feel like he’s running off fumes. And he told me one of his favorite things to do is sleep in until noon on Sunday morning. He won’t be able to do that since he’ll need to be up by eight, but I can at least let him sleep a little longer.

My life feels like it’s finally starting to rebuild itself. Gunner got some of my clothes out of the trunk yesterday, and I nearly cry when I put on my favorite pair of black skinny jeans. It’s almost September and it’s a little chillier in the mornings, so I slide into my black slouchy sweater I haven’t worn since last fall over my pink T-shirt bra.

Though my pants have pockets, they’re small and barely hold shit, so I tuck my phone into my bra before heading outside. Gunner told me I always have to have it on me, and although I’m only going to the stables, I don’t want to upset him by breaking his rules.

I head to the bathroom to wash my face and apply some moisturizer. It’s been so long since I’ve worn makeup. I want to get some, but I don’t want to at the same time since Gunner’s never seen me with it. I grab two scrunchies, putting my hair in two buns, and once I’m ready to go, I grab my black boots and sneak out of the house quietly. Gunner would be pissed if he knew I was outside without him right now, but I know he’ll be happy once he realizes I’ve already taken care of Violet and he can just get dressed and go. Dallas has kept up with taking care of the rest of the animals, so Gunner’s workload has remained light.

The leaves on the trees outside are starting to turn red and brown, and I can’t wait until they fall. Fall has always been my favorite season, and it feels like the perfect time to start something new.

Most of the grass is lush and healthy below my feet, but when I get to the center of the ranch, it’s dead and dirty, tarnished by the blood that was shed here by Mason. Even though I’ve been across this field since everything happened, I’m still devastated that the sweet animals I was introduced to so recently are gone and that I’ll never get to see or touch them again. That Gunner will never get to spend time with them again. My mind immediately goes to Skye, and I can’t stop thinking about how happy Gunner would be if she was back with him.

I go to our little storage room and grab a banana for Violet before getting her food. Gunner doesn’t want her having treats every day, but I know she didn’t get any from him before I showed up, so we have to make up for lost time.

Violet hears me before she sees me, and I hear her stir with excitement. She’s so loving and gentle. Knowing that she’s survived so much heartache makes me feel so much admiration toward her. She’s so strong and resilient. I just want to keep making her happy and forget about all of the trauma she’s been through.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I coo to her softly when I step into her stall. She tries to push her head against me in an effort to hug, and I wrap my arms around her, rubbing her neck with her muzzle over my shoulder.

The little girl in me whose horses were taken as a child is healed with Violet before me. Whenever I look into her eyes, I think of Margaret, and I promise myself that I’ll take care of everything she left behind. Violet starts to get excited, and I know she’s ready for her meal.

I surprise her by giving her the banana first, laughing at how rapidly she eats it. I get her food set up quickly for her to munch on throughout the day until Dallas arrives, and I make sure she has plenty of water to stay hydrated.

Despite losing all of her stable mates, she’s been in good spirits overall, but I know she’s still affected. I could go back in and let her be, but I want her to get some fresh air outside of these walls before she’s cooped up in here all day.

We have a million saddles available with the other horses gone, and I grab one out of the pile to secure on her. She stays still while I do so, eager to get out of here too. “ I know. I’m almost ready.” I pat her sides and reassure her, feeling her excitement pulse through me when I open the gate.

Skye may not like reins, but Violet does. I use a step stool and the horn to help me get my foot in the stirrup, and once I’m seated, I give her some comforting pets and take the reins.

Violet responds with a small tap against her belly, getting her to move out of the stall. I wonder how long it’s been since she experienced this. Margaret was probably the last one to give her a ride. Gunner says Violet doesn’t like Dallas enough to let him. And I know Gunner never got this close with her.

She picks up her pace a little when we get away from her stall, but I try to slow her down, not wanting to get too far away. My butt bounces up and down a little while I ride, but my phone stays secure in my bra.

Violet lets me guide her with the reins, taking turns and going in circles. I tell her what a good girl she is and give her praise, wanting to reward her good behavior.

I lead her on a path back to the stables, then we go in another circle back the other way, a bit further than before. The house is pretty far out from where we are, but we’re still on Gunner’s property, so I’m not too concerned.

In the distance I see an obstacle course set up. It’s probably the same one Gunner used with Willow. When I think of how Violet’s probably never been out here, I direct her up to it slowly, wanting to have some fun.

She approaches nervously, but I scratch her ears to calm her down.

I’m getting ready to get off and explain things to her when she starts to go through the path, climbing the ramp and weaving through poles. She may not have done this here, but she’s clearly had some training. I give her ten or so minutes of exercise, and when she starts to get tired out, I exit the course and lead her a little bit beyond it by a small stream.

The day Gunner found me in the stream, I thought it would be my last. Who knew the scary cowboy with a heavy hand would turn out to be the person I’m closest to in this world? I smile, thinking of what Charlotte would think of him. She was always into bad boys, and despite all he’s done, she’d try and push me into his arms.

I take a turn and guide Violet back to the house while she walks slowly, munching on shrubs and grass along the way. In the short time that I’ve spent here, I’ve already grown used to calling Gunner’s ranch home, and I’m nervous to start over somewhere brand new. But for the first time in my life, I won’t be taking a risk alone. And the risk I’m taking will be a fun one .

When we’ve been strolling for a few minutes, I give my girl a little kick to put some pep in her step. I wasn’t comfortable running away from the house, but I don’t mind going a little faster if we’re heading to it.

I let go of the rains and grip the horn, closing my eyes for a second while I grip her sides with my heels, trusting her to stay on our path. I think of Skye again and how fast she was going with me on her back. I felt free and weightless, and Violet gives me the same feeling, running against the wind like nothing can hold us back.

My lungs open when I take in a breath, and I burst into laughter when I let it out. I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster ride I never want to end.

Taking a peek, I see Violet’s still going the correct way. “Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

I give her a little squeeze, getting her to go a little faster while I close my eyes again. The wind from outside blows rapidly through my sweater, and for a moment I think I might get swept away.

I open my mouth to give Violet more praise when the air is knocked out of my lungs. My feet rip from the stirrups, and my back feels like it’s cracked into a million tiny pieces when I hit the ground below me. My eyes fly open, and when I see the white sky, I think I’m dead .

But I know I’m not. I’m in too much pain for that. Blinding pain that burns through my entire being. I open my mouth again to suck in a breath, but a rope tightens around my core, preventing me from breathing.

Tears pour from my eyes, and I hear Violet whinnying. I barely am able to lift my head to look at her while she spins in circles. I stretch my fingers out to reach her, but my body drags across the grass rapidly away from her.

She runs after me, trying to save me from whatever’s attacking me, but someone shoots at her. I blink through my tears, letting out a garbled cry while I tell her to run away. I kick at the same time she turns her back, heading back to the house.

Arms wrap around me from behind, and I smell an aftershave that I’ve only smelled once in my life before.

He’s found me. My father has found me, and he’s taking me.

I gasp, trying to get any air in my body while I’m hoisted off the ground and over his shoulder.

Gunner. He’ll never know what happened to me. He’ll think I ran off again and just left him. I can’t scream for his help. I’m too far from the house, and my voice won’t come out. My tears keep pouring while my eyes stay on the grass, turning away down some path I’m not familiar with .

The rope that binds my waist is somehow wrapped around my wrists while he carries me, and I yelp at the pain.

He slaps my ass hard, making the tears spill faster. “I told you you’d never escape me, you cunt. Did you really think I wouldn’t come back for you? My child? My property?”

My body pushes through the painful burning, and I manage to get two breaths in and out before I respond. “Fuck.” Breath in. Breathe out. “You.”

He laughs deeply and takes me back to a car I’ve never seen before. The trunk is popped open, and it’s empty.

My lungs work a little harder, and I finally get some screams out. But with each scream comes a slap to my ass, and then my body is dropped again with my back hitting the bottom of the trunk, making me dizzy.

Mason’s face finally comes into my view, and I shrink back, trying to get away from him. His blue eyes are frigid. Iced over and cold. His blonde hair is whiter than before, and his skin is pale and dry. He looks unwell. But he’s just as strong as he was before. I scowl at him, and he spits on the ground before slapping me across my face.

His low voice makes my skin crawl. “All I’ve done for your entire life is love you and take care of you. And in return, you’ve embarrassed me, lied to me, and stolen from me.” He pinches his nose. “I can’t decide what I should've done differently. Part of me feels like I should’ve smothered you in your crib. But the other part of me tells me I should’ve shot you when I shot your mother.

“I can’t go back and change the past, so there’s no point in harboring on where I went wrong and why you’ve been such a goddamn pain in my ass. However, I can see the light, my child. We can start anew together, and I can make sure I never make the same mistakes with you again.”

He smiles. “Your time of childishness, foolishness, selfishness, and disobedience is over, Montana Elizabeth Barnes. And your days of suffering are just beginning.”