Page 17 of Her Mountain Man Grump

Back to Scourfield.

I try to imagine it—going back to the desert. Back to the fear, the silence, the submission. Determination surges through me, and I meet my father’s gaze, ignoring the trembling in my hands.

“I’m never going back,” I tell him. “Never.” Then I grab his car keys from the side and throw them to the floor in front of him. “You can have your car. But you can’t have me.”

Father slowly bends down to grab his keys, every movement calm and measured. But I know his anger too well. I can see it radiating from him like a red cloud.

“You know the rules, Emma,” he says. “Scourfield is your home. It always will be.”

“It’s not a home. It’s a cult.” I spit out the last word like it’s poison, but Father doesn’t blink.

“I see.” He sighs deeply, shaking his head. “You’ve been speaking to outsiders, haven’t you? They’re always quick to label things they don’t understand, Emma. But you’re smarter than that. You’re one of us.”

“I’m not one of you,” I say. “You can’t manipulate me anymore, Father?—”

“Don’t call me that.” His eyes flash. “If you wish to address me, you will call me The Leader.”

“No! I won’t.” I ball my fists, summoning all my courage as I look at him. “You’re not my leader, and you’re not my father anymore, either. You’re just a very sick man, and I pity everyone in Scourfield—everyone trapped there by your lies.”

But just like all fanatics, he becomes more resolute the more I argue. He looks at me with something like disappointment. In his mind, I’ve let myself be tricked. Corrupted by outsiders.

“I was afraid it would come to this,” he says. “But if you won’t come back of your own accord, then we’ll have to bring you by force.”

“Like hell,” a voice says roughly.

Father and I jump, looking toward the front door. Brody stands on the threshold, glowering with rage, huge and formidable as the mountain itself. He strides into the room and shields me with his body, facing my father.

“You want her?” he growls. “You’ll have to get through me first, asshole.”

10

BRODY

I knewsomething was wrong the minute I woke up. Could feel it, somehow. The bed next to me was cold, and I pulled on some clothes, hurrying into the living room. I checked every inch of my cabin, but Emma was gone. That’s when I decided to check the outbuilding. As soon as I stepped outside, I heard voices. My heart was racing, the thoughts of everything Emma told me last night still raw and fresh. And as I approached the outbuilding, my fears were confirmed.

“If you won’t come back of your own accord, then we’ll have to bring you by force.”

That’s what the fucker said. It was then I knew it was her father—that he’d found her somehow. Now I’m facing him, staring him down, a barrier between him and my girl.

“Who are you?” her father snaps.

“I’m the man who will do anything to protect Emma.”

He’s a coward. I can see it immediately, the apprehension in his face as he sizes me up. No doubt he’s used to controlling people he sees as weaker or more vulnerable than himself. He’d have no qualms laying his hands on his daughter, forcing her to go with him, but he won’t step up and fight a mountain man.

Fucking coward.

“This is none of your concern,” he says. “This is between me and a fellow member of my community.” He tries to sound firm, but his body betrays him with an instinctive step backward.

“Community?” I snarl. “It’s a cult, and Emma got out. You tried to trap her there, control her, but she fucking won. Now she’s free, and she’s going to stay that way.”

There’s a pause as the man looks at me, weighing his options.

“I didn’t come alone,” he says coldly. “One of my men is waiting in his truck outside. If you try to stop us from taking her?—”

I see red. He’s threatening to kidnap my girl. Rage sears in my gut, flooding my body. In two strides, I close the gap between us, raise my fist, and slam it into his face. My knuckles connect with his jaw. He stumbles back with a noise of surprise, and I raise my fist again. This time, I hear a crunch as it smashes into his nose. I pull back my arm again, but a hand grabs my wrist, and I look back over my shoulder to see Emma staring at me, breathing hard.

“Please, no more,” she says. “He’s not worth it.”

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