5. Montana

5

Montana

I ’m going to kill him. I am going to murder this man.

I didn’t plan to when I first met him, but he’s only gotten crazier as the minutes have gone on, and I’m terrified to spend the night with him. But that might be my best shot. I’ll kill him while he sleeps, and then I’ll steal his truck and head to Arizona without looking back. I can do this. It can’t be that hard.

I sit in the back of his truck while he does something out back. Apparently he has ten horses, some sheep, and other animals. I’d love to see them, but I doubt he’ll let me. Even if he does, he probably won’t let me touch them. He’s far too grouchy for that.

Though he’s only ten years older than me, it feels like more. He’s so serious. I wonder if he’s ever had any fun in his life. I used to have fun, but having a hard life takes the fun out of you. Maybe that’s what happened to him too .

My body’s a little less sore now that the painkillers are starting to kick in. I asked what fluids were in my IV bag, and I was told I wasn’t drugged. I kinda wish he gave me some drugs because I’m not sure how long this ibuprofen will help me. But I’m way too proud to ask for anything more. And he’s so damn mean that he won’t give me anything else.

My hair is starting to dry out a bit in the sun, but I really wish I had some shampoo and conditioner. And a detangling brush. It’d also be nice to wear something other than a see-through shirt. At least I have a shirt. For a minute I thought he was just going to make me stay naked.

Eventually he returns from out back, and he has on a denim shirt over his black tank top, and his hat covers his eyes. He’s in desperate need of a shave and haircut. Okay, maybe not a haircut, but definitely a shave.

He gives me one last glance before hopping in his truck, and he opens the little window and calls out to me. “If you need anything . . . don’t.”

What a saint. “Thanks.”

I slip into the denim jacket next to me, and it goes well past my hips. It must be his. I see him through the rear view mirror when I slide it on, but he doesn’t yell at me or tell me to remove it, so I don’t.

I have no idea where we are, and we drive down an old dirt road. I can’t shake the fear that my father’s going to find us. And when he does, he’ll torture us both.

It’s the beginning of August, so it’s not unbearable, but it’s still hot out. I get one last glimpse of the mountains before we drive into more woods, and I tilt my head up to the sky with my eyes closed wishing I was anyone else but me.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but the sound of a door slamming jolts me out of my slumber, and Mr. Blackheart stands over me. Or just Blackheart. Whatever the hell he said. I wish he would tell me his real fucking name. He already knows way more about me than I’m comfortable with.

He grabs my arm, dragging me out of the truck like a rag doll. He doesn’t have his rifle on him. I guess he’s not bringing it in. “Come on.”

I hold my free hand over my eyes trying to block out the sun. “Where are we going?”

He looks down at me and then straight ahead. “Clothing store. You need shit to wear.”

I barely trip on the curb, and then I’m being jutted into a womenswear clothing store with more comfortable lighting than the blinding sun outside.

“Welcome in! What can I help you find today? ”

A curvy woman with long blonde hair with a white crop top and flared jeans looks back at us. Well, she looks at my chaperone with a wide smile, and she frowns when she looks at me. “Are you alright, miss?”

He wraps an arm around my sore shoulders, pulling me close. “She’s fine. Can you dress her or what?” He stares the young woman down, and she cowers under his gaze.

“Yes, sir.”

Nodding his head, he releases me. “Good. She needs enough clothing for a week. Maybe two. Undergarments as well.”

I see a small name tag on my new helper that says Karissa . She places her hand on my back and guides me into the shop. “Absolutely.” Looking down at me, she doesn’t say a word, but there’s fear all over her face.

As grateful as I am for her concern, there’s nothing she can do to help me. And the less she knows about me, the better. I want to remain a stranger as long as possible.

Once I’m by the fitting room, she gives me a once-over. “Looks like you’re about a six. Maybe a four. But you’re top heavy, so you may need a medium. Does that sound about right?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles brightly. “Perfect. What pieces are you looking to get? ”

I shrug my shoulders, not caring what I wear as long as I get to have a bra. I don’t know why he told her I needed clothes for two weeks. There’s no way in hell I’m staying with him that long. “I’m not sure. Whatever you’d recommend.”

She gives my hand a light squeeze. “I’ll bring you some options to try, and you can get comfortable. I’ll be right back.” She turns away, and as soon as she does, I crawl behind my fitting room curtain and sit in the plush chair in the corner.

My ankles are still swollen, but they’re not as bad as they were earlier. I almost start to cry realizing this is the first moment of privacy I’ve had since I was captured, but I don’t, not wanting to scare Karissa. I just try to bask in it, knowing that he’s gonna keep me by his side for the rest of the day.

Maybe even the night.

Eventually Karissa returns, and she calls through my curtain to get my attention. “Are you decent?”

I don’t know if I would call my current outfit decent, but it’s all I have. “Yeah. Come in.”

She pulls back the curtain and starts hanging up the options, and when she’s empty-handed, I see him watching me from over her shoulder. Like usual, his glance is unreadable. He’s so tense. I wonder if he ever relaxes and lets loose.

Looking me up and down, she points to the first option which is an outfit just like hers but with a slightly different top. “You should try on the bell bottoms first. With the lace-up top. You’ve got the perfect figure for it.”

I cringe when she closes the curtain. This outfit is exactly the type of thing I’d wear around friends, but not in front of the man outside. This is an outfit that screams, take me back to your room instead of, back off . I want back off outfits. Not take me to your room outfits.

I flip through the options, and there’s mainly more of the same. Cute dresses, a single T-shirt, and lace bras and thongs with silk chemises. I can almost feel his impatience on the other side of the curtain. If I take any longer, he’s going to barge in and get me.

Taking off his jacket and pulling his shirt over my head slowly, I get dressed in my first outfit and pull the curtain back.

Two pairs of eyes stare back at me when I open the curtain, except one pair is filled with glee and the other pair looks furious.

Karissa grabs my waist and spins me in a circle carefully. “You look hot , honey. ”

I turn to him, waiting on his approval, and he stands up with his hands in his pockets. “You’re not getting that shit. Put something else on.”

Karissa looks at him with wide eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”

His eyes start at my feet and trail up my legs slowly, and they pause when they get to my chest. He drags them up to my face, and when his blue eyes meet mine, he grimaces. “I want you dressed modestly.”

I cross my arms in protest, and he approaches me swiftly, causing Karissa to stumble back. His fingers flip through the clothing options in my fitting room, and he hands me three sundresses. “Try these.”

Feeling defeated, I take the dresses from him to try on. He stands there like he’s waiting for an invite in, but he surprises me by pulling the curtain shut. His deep, gravelly voice floods my ears. “Come out and show me each one.”

This fucking man. I change quickly, wincing slightly as I pull the fabric off my bandaged body. I hate to satisfy him, but it’s good he picked the sundresses. They’re easier to get on and off. I pull open the curtain and show him the first one. He does nothing but grunt in approval. I show him the second one which he likes, and when I get the third one on, he reaches forward and touches the fabric that wraps around my shoulders. “You’ll wear this one today. ”

He turns to Karissa. “Find me five more dresses like this one. And a few pairs of boots.”

She rushes away, and his eyes trail over the light blue dress that covers my body. It hits mid-calf, and it has cap sleeves and is decorated in white flowers. It’s really pretty. Too pretty for anything I have coming up.

My attendant returns with more garments and footwear along with socks and a denim jacket. I try on the shoes to make sure they fit. There’s a stylish pair of boots for looking cute more than anything. They’re light tan. Then there’s a rugged pair of black leather combat boots. They’re sturdy and comfortable. I keep the black boots on, and Blackheart turns to Karissa. “Ring all this up.”

She looks between me and the intimates still hanging in my fitting room. “Don’t you want to try on the lingerie first?”

He doesn’t give me a second glance but looks at the lingerie. “No need. We’ll get it all.”

Sicko. I look toward the pieces. They’re beautiful, but there’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see me wear any of it. I trail my fingers over the black lace bra in front of me. “What if I don’t want it?”

He snatches it out of my hand, handing it to Karissa to ring up. “Then don’t fucking wear it. ”

As soon as we’ve finished checking out, he carries all of the bags back to the truck while I walk beside him. Once he puts them in the back, he goes to help me in, but I stop him. “Can I sit up front?” My ankles and feet still hurt, but I think I’d be more comfortable with some cushioning under my butt.

He pauses then goes up to the passenger door, holding it open silently. As soon as I get seated, he shuts the door and goes over to his side, and we head to our next destination.

It takes a few minutes for us to arrive at a general store, and I get out of the car as soon as we park, not waiting for my door to be opened. I get a cramp in my stomach, and my reality turns worse when we walk inside. Blackheart keeps his hand around my wrist while he uses his other to carry a basket, and he drags me through the store with him while he gets canned goods, a first-aid kit, and other supplies. We’re almost to the checkout when I blurt out my issue to him.

“My period’s about to start. I need pads.”

He looks down at me like I’m the biggest inconvenience in the world and lets go of my wrist. “Go get whatever you need. Don’t forget anything. When we get back in for the night, we’re not leaving again until morning.”

I move away from him slowly while he follows closely behind me, and I find my preferred brand. They’re organic and expensive, but he can afford it. Especially after I give him everything I have. He pulls the package out of my hand as soon as I pick it up and tosses it in our basket. I pick up wipes, and he repeats the action. For every item I pick up, he takes it from me, adding it to the load.

After I’ve grabbed shampoo, conditioner, a detangling brush, bonnet, hair oil, scrunchies, and a few hair clips, I look up at him. “That’s all I need.”

His jaw tightens, and he places a hand on the back of my neck, pushing me to the front while he pays for everything.

It takes no time at all for us to get back to his beat-up truck, and he opens my door again to help me back inside. “Do you need the bathroom?”

I know my body well enough to know that my flow might start today, but I can make it until we get back. “I’ll be fine. I might need another bath later though.”

I manage to get a nod of acknowledgement before he goes to his seat and drives us back the way we came from.

Once we’ve returned, Blackheart carries all of the bags with his gun over his shoulder and makes me open the door for us with his hands full.

“Take off your shoes.”

I slide out of my cozy boots, feeling my ache return when my feet hit the wood floor. He hands me one of the food bags, and I walk with him to the kitchen while we leave everything nonperishable on the table.

After he picks my clothing bags back up, he tilts his head in the direction of his room. “Upstairs.”

I start walking up there slowly, but he doesn’t follow behind right away. By the time I get in the doorway of his room, I hear him following behind me. I step in and he points to his bed once he gets inside.

I freeze, scared of what he’s planning next.

He puts my clothing bags on the dresser and and pulls two things from under his arms. “Sit on the bed, Montana.”

Frozen peas. He has frozen peas. My cramps get a little worse, and I grab my stomach. “I need the bathroom first.”

He drops the frozen goods on the bed. “Go on. Keep the door open.”

Moving quickly, I go to my new belongings and get my feminine items.

Right on time.

My flow is just starting, and after ten minutes of faux privacy, I wrap up in the bathroom and head back into the bedroom.

Those blue eyes meet mine at the same time he shrugs his denim shirt off his shoulders, revealing the tank top he’s been wearing since I woke up in his shed .

My hormones are getting the better of me because he looks good. Really good. I almost get lost in his sculpted muscles and hard, strong body when he snaps his fingers at me. “On the bed.”

Suddenly I remember that I’m a captive. There are so many things I care about. So many things I want to do, achieve, and accomplish. But none of those things matter right now. What matters is not dying. I sit on the edge of the bed, lifting my aching limbs slowly.

Blackheart digs two sets of handcuffs from his nightstand and cuffs each of my wrists to his bed frame.

It’s a nice bed. Big and comfortable. Looks like a king. I try to will myself to calm down and get comfortable. “How long do I have to stay like this?”

He puts a bag of peas on each of my sock covered ankles, bringing me immediate relief. “Until I’m finished working. Then we’ll wash up and have dinner before bed.”

He kicks off his boots, changing them into other ones.

I start to panic, wondering how long he’ll be and what’s going to happen tonight. “Where will I sleep?”

Something dark flashes over his eyes. “In my bed. With me.”

I’ll never get away. I have to think of something. I have to get him hammered or come up with something to get him vulnerable. I’ll find a way .

He gives me his back and picks up a gun, getting ready to leave.

My head throbs and my stomach aches and my body hurts. “Could I have a little more medicine?”

He scratches his jaw. “Ibuprofen’s not gonna do much.”

I ease down on the mattress with my hands still cuffed, trying to get into a more comfortable position. “I know. I was kind of hoping you had something else?”

He gulps and his eyes darken. “I’ve got morphine.”

Something inside me tells me not to let this hungry looking man drug me, but I can’t lie here for hours in pain. And he hasn’t taken advantage of me thus far. “Give it to me. Please.”

He nods his head and steps out into the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

I wait for a few minutes while he goes into a room on this hall, and when he returns, he’s wearing gloves, and everything appears to be sterile. I wait patiently while he sets everything up for me, and once the liquid starts flowing through my IV, I look up at the mysterious man over me. “I can trust you. Can’t I?”

I don’t know why I ask. It’s a silly question given all we’ve been through today .

His strong hand reaches for my face, and he grabs a lock of my hair, moving it back and forth slowly between his fingers. “Don’t ever put your trust in me, little fox.”