Page 1 of Saved By the Mountain Man

Chapter One

Emma

The stench of dirty water crawls beneath my nostrils as I step inside my apartment building. Treading over broken glass, I navigate my way towards the stairs, almost landing in what I’m pretty sure is a pile of vomit. Disgusting.

I hold my breath and stare up the stairwell.

This place is putrid. But it’s all I have.

To say I live in a rough neighborhood would be the understatement of the century. It’s in one of the worst areas of the city, but I barely scraped up enough for the deposit, let alone making rent every month.

Every day is the same. I wake up, sneak out of my apartment, dodging the passed out bodies laying unconscious in the corridor. If I make it to the parking lot without being threatened or chased, I call it a win. Then, I cross my fingers that my car will start and make my way to my job as a waitress. I make minimum wage for twelve hours a day, and because money is tight for everyone, my tips barely do enough to get me by.

It’s been like this since I was fifteen and my mother died. Each day I survive is a win. Constantly fearing for my safety has become normal, but lucky for me I have my father’s fight.

Mom’s death was sudden. I’ve never been the same since the day I found her, laying on the floor of our apartment, pale faced and lifeless. The doctors said it wasn’t suicide, but I’m not so sure. I watched her crumble with the weight of my father’s military career, the stress of never knowing where he was, if he was safe, or when he would be home.

She loved him. More than anything.

I’ll never forget the day we got the news.

Dad had died while on duty. Mom was a wreck, completely devastated. It was a slippery slope after that for my mother. Her will to live dwindled week by week, until it all became too much.

Now… I’m all alone. No family. No friends.

But I’ve survived.

Gripping the handrail, I kick aside a vile old bong that’s been abandoned in the middle of the third step. It crashes to the foyer, and I shake down any gross feelings in my gut. Treading quickly, I get to the sixth floor in record time, my legs burning from the sprint.

I creep down the hallway, skin crawling on the back of my neck. It’s dark and stinks like dope up here, and there’s loud music coming from somewhere.

Fuck I hate it here.

One day I’ll get out. One day I’ll live in a nice place, in nature. I like the idea of living by the seaside, but I hate sand. Perhaps a forest instead? I visited a mountain with my father when I was twelve. We went fishing and cooked with fire. It’s one of my favorite memories, one I cherish deep in my heart.

I find my keys and retrieve them quietly from my bag. I tread towards my door, and feel the relief flooding my veins. I’ve made it.

But just as I push the key in the lock, a door bursts open down the hall. Fuck. I jump in shock. I’m swarmed by the same creepy guy who’s been harassing me for months. Harold? Harry? Fuck, I can’t remember his name. I’ve been trying so damn hard to forget that he exists, despite the fact I see him watching me everywhere I go.

I’ve had him kicked out of the café multiple times now, but he’s relentless.

Those cold, heartless eyes give me nightmares. Bloodshot and whacked beyond all belief. His face is scabby, matching the track marks on his arm. He races towards me, lanky limbs tripping on the ripped carpet. He looks like a ghost his skin is so damn pale.

I try to twist the key in my door. It clicks and I move inside just as he reaches me. I go to lock it, but he slides a foot inside the door, wedging it open.

“Emmmmaaaa!” he yells. “Emma, open this fucking door!”

I flatten myself against the door, shifting my entire weight against it. Shit. I’m not sure how long I can hold this. He might have a diet of meth and cigarettes, but he’s a lot stronger than me.

“Go away!” I shout, my mouth dry.

“I just want to talk to you,” he slurs, pushing harder against the door.

My lungs are pumping hard, setting my chest on fire. I can’t hold on much longer. Fuck, what am I going to do?

“Emma! Please, just talk to me.”

My arms are tiring, my body weak. I’ve been doing this for too long. Every damn day, sneaking into my apartment, escaping the clutches of this crazed stalker. Most of the time I’m lucky, but days like today make me question if it’s all worth it.

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