Page 7 of Liberated Mountain Man

Fuck

“Let’s get you inside,” I whisper, stepping out of the car and coming around to her side.

She leans against me as I help her out, her body soft and warm against mine. For the first time in years, I feel something other than anger. I feel something like peace.

No matter what happens, I’ll protect her. From the world. From her father. From the darkness that’s clawing its way through me.

She’s mine, and I’ll keep her safe. Always.

Chapter 3

Cassie

The cabin is huge, nestled deep in the mountains, surrounded by nothing but trees and silence. It feels unreal, a place out of a dream—something I didn’t even know I needed until now. For so long, I’ve been trapped, suffocated by the walls of my father’s house, watched constantly, never allowed to breathe without permission. But now, standing here, with nothing but nature and open space around me, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I’m free.

The cabin is my sanctuary, a promise of safety and peace. I can barely believe it. The isolation, the vastness of it all—it’s overwhelming, but in the best way. I want to explore every inch of this mountain. I want to feel the wind on my face, run through the trees, and maybe—just maybe—finally find out who I am outside of the cage my father built around me.

I step out of the car, my bare feet sinking into the cool dirt. The sensation is so foreign, so simple, yet it makes my heart race. It’s as if the earth beneath me is welcoming me home, grounding me in this new reality. I shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of the moment.

I’m free.

I’m here.

With him.

Jax, my savior.

Jax grabs some shopping bags from the back of the truck, his muscles flexing under his shirt as he moves, and motions for me to follow. I trail behind him, feeling the weight of my past lift with every step. Each breath I take out here feels lighter, more real. I’m no longer that scared, caged girl under my father’s thumb. Out here, in this untouched wilderness, I can be anything, anyone.

The cabin door creaks open, and the scent of pine, wood, and something else—cedar—fills my senses. It’s cozy inside, warm in a way that feels like safety, a haven. It’s nothing like the sterile, suffocating world I’ve known my whole life. The house I grew up in was large and cold, filled with rooms I wasn’t allowed to enter, always monitored, always under someone else’s control. But this? This place feels like freedom.

I look around the room, taking it all in. The rough-hewn furniture, the fireplace that dominates one wall, the wide windows that overlook the endless trees beyond. It’s simple, but perfect. It’s real. I can picture myself living here, walking barefoot through the woods, breathing in the fresh air every morning. Painting for hours without anyone telling me I’m wasting my time.

Jax drops the shopping bags by the door and turns to me, his eyes soft as they meet mine. “This is home now,” he says quietly, and there’s a finality to his words that makes my chest tighten.

Home.

I’ve never really had a home. Not a real one. The house I grew up in was just a place where I existed, a place where I was kept like a possession, a piece of property to be bartered with. But here, in this cabin with Jax, it feels different. It feels like the beginning of something new. Something better.

I glance back at Jax, who’s watching me with that protective, possessive intensity I’ve come to expect. There’s something in his eyes that makes my pulse quicken, something raw and unspoken. He’s given me freedom, yes, but there’s more to it. There’s him. His presence grounds me.

I swallow, my throat dry.

“It’s perfect.”

Jax steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you ever again.”

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. For the first time in my life, I believe those words. I believe that I’m safe. And for the first time, I feel like I can breathe, like I can live.

Jax’s fingers linger on my skin, and my breathing hitches having him so close to me.

The feeling between my legs—this strange, pulsing heat that’s been building since we were in the car—it’s stronger now. I shift on my feet, uncomfortable with how much I want him close to me. How I want him to touch me. I don’t understand why I’m so wet down there, why my body is reacting this way just from being near him. But the more I try to ignore it, the stronger it gets.

“Take a bath,” he says, his voice low. “Relax. There’s a wardrobe in the bedroom. I bought you some clothes. White dresses. I don’t want to see you in anything else.”

The command is gentle, but firm, and I nod, feeling a strange sense of both rebellion and obedience stir inside me. I want to explore this new freedom, but there’s also something thrilling about giving in to Jax’s control, letting him lead. The way he looks at me—it makes my heart race.

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