Page 12 of Her Mountain Man Grump

Brody heaves a sigh, running a hand over his face. His frown is deeper than ever, his whole face simmering with a mixture of rage and sadness. I can feel myself faltering, but I know I need to finish my story. If I stop now, I might never start again.

“Power wasn’t good for him. It went to his head immediately. Heck, he didn’t let me call him Father anymore; everyone had to call him The Leader. He wanted to expand our community, encourage more families to join us. We kept growing, and as the number of people grew, so did my father’s paranoia. Nobody was allowed to leave Scourfield under any circumstances except for his inner circle. They were all men, higher-ups in the community, so they had privileges the rest of us didn’t.”

My throat hurts. This is the most I’ve spoken since I was a child, but it feels good to talk. To remember that I have a voice.

“So, that was my life,” I say. “Every day was the same routine, the same hard work. For a long time, I just accepted it. I guess even hell can feel like home once you’re settled. But as I got older, I wanted more. I still had all these memories of life before Scourfield, and I missed it. My father’s teachings weren’t enough to stop me from craving freedom, and as time passed, my unhappiness grew. I became more and more disillusioned with life in Scourfield and the lessons we were taught. It took years for me to break free from all those beliefs, and the whole time Ihad to pretend like everything was fine. But eventually, I knew I had to escape.”

“How?” Brody asks, his voice hoarse. “How did you escape?”

My heart thumps as I think back to it—the terror I felt. I’d seen people get beaten for far less than trying to escape, and I knew being The Leader’s daughter wouldn’t save me if I was caught.

“Remember what I said about my father’s inner circle?” I ask. “Well, one of their privileges was that they all had cars. I knew I couldn’t escape on foot—Scourfield is in the middle of the desert, miles from anywhere. My only option was to steal a car.”

Brody nods, urging me to continue.

“All the car keys were kept locked up in a safe,” I say, “which made everything more complicated. Not to mention the fact that I’d never driven a car before. But I’d seen Father drive when I was a kid, so I hoped I’d be able to figure it out. My plan was pretty simple. Every Sunday morning, my father drove away from Scourfield to pick up provisions from the closest town. He usually returned after a couple of hours. So that morning, I went to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast as usual. I said I wasn’t feeling well and even pretended to faint, so the women helped me back to bed. Then I waited. When it was nearly time for him to return, I jumped out of bed and ran as fast as I could toward the sand track we used as a road. Everyone was at breakfast, so nobody saw me. I waited until I saw his car in the distance, then I sat by the side of the road, clutching my ankle, screwing my face up like I was in agony.”

The memory is enough to make my heart jump. It was the scariest moment of my life, watching my father’s green Honda approach, knowing what I was about to do.

“The plan worked.” I let out a shaky breath. “When he saw me by the side of the road, he stopped the car and got out. He was furious, asking me why I wasn’t at breakfast, what I wasdoing so far up the road. But I just whimpered like I was in pain, trying to look convincing. When he kneeled down to look at my leg, I jumped up and sprinted for the car. My father chased me, but I got there first. The driver’s side door was still open, the keys still in the ignition, so I hopped in the car and locked the doors. It took me a couple of tries to figure out how to make the car move, and the whole time, Father was shouting at me, banging on the windows. He looked crazy, all red-faced and spitting. But eventually, I got it started and put my foot down. I made it to the highway and just kept driving north. I finally ran out of gas up on the mountain, and…well, you know the rest.”

“And the red truck?” Brody asks.

I sigh. “One of my father’s henchmen is a guy called Paolo. He drives a red truck. I thought maybe the truck Tanner saw could be him coming to look for me, or my father using his vehicle. I hope it’s just a coincidence because I don’t see how they could have found me. But I guess anything’s possible. They might be after me…”

I lapse into silence, the weight of my story hanging in the air. Brody doesn’t speak for a long time. I can’t bring myself to look at him.

What if he wants me to leave?

I couldn’t blame him. I’m not normal. My life isn’t normal. Heck, it’s possible I have cult members hunting me down right now. Why would a mountain man living a quiet life in the woods want that kind of chaos around him?

“You know something?” he says eventually, his growly voice making me start. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met in my goddamn life.”

I blink at him. “Really?”

“Definitely.” He shakes his head, his features still slack with shock. “Holy shit, Emma, you escaped a cult. You stole a car and drove it hundreds of miles, ran away from everything you’ve everknown. That’s fucking incredible. I’m so proud of you for getting yourself out of there.”

His words fill me with a warm buzz of pride. I wasn’t trying to be brave; I was just trying to survive. But the admiration in Brody’s eyes makes it all feel worth it.

“Thank you,” I tell him softly. “That means a lot.”

“And if they really are coming after you,” Brody says, leaning across the table toward me, “then they’ll have to go through me first. I won’t let them touch you.”

Something feral flickers in his gaze, a savage kind of protectiveness. The intensity of it should scare me, but it doesn’t.

It makes me feel safe.

Hemakes me feel safe.

8

BRODY

After hearing her story,all I want to do is pull Emma into my arms and hold her close. I can’t believe what she’s been through. But most of all, I can’t believe how damn strong she is. I knew she had secrets, but I never expected anything like this, and it only makes me more determined to keep her safe. If she thinks there’s even the smallest chance that her crazy dad is after her, then I’m not letting her out of my sight from this moment on.

“Thank you for listening to all that,” Emma says as we carry our plates into the kitchen. “I’ve never talked it out like that before. It feels good.”

Something has shifted between us since she opened up. Ever since we met, I’ve been expecting her to run away at any moment…but things are different now. She seems to feel safe with me, and I’m no longer tiptoeing around her, expecting her to bolt.

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