Page 2 of Forbidden Mountain Man

“Oh, I wonder who that is at this time of night. It must be urgent.” She tries sitting up and swinging her bad leg over the pile of pillows, but I stand and put my hands out, motioning for her to stop.

“I’ll get it,” I rush to say. “No need for you to get up. Actually, it’s probably time for more of your pain meds. I’ll get those on my way back.”

“You’re just trying to get me to fall asleep so I don’t hassle you about finding a woman,” she teases.

“You caught me,” I say with a wink. She waves me off as the phone rings again.

I grab the olive green phone from its spot hanging on the wall in the kitchen, pressing it to my ear. I’m about to greet the caller and let them know they’re talking to Samantha’s son, not Samantha, but they start rambling before I can get a word in.

“I’m so sorry to call this late,” the voice says. It’s familiar, but I can’t quite place it. It’s a woman, and she sounds frantic. No, scratch that; she sounds panicked. “I-I-I-I… I went out with some friends from work who ended up not really being good friends at all and then…” She sniffles and her voice cracks, right along with my damn heart. I try saying something to comfort her, but she keeps going. “They left me and then… then some guys…”

“Did they hurt you?” I nearly growl, the thought of anyone harming this woman sending me into a rage.

“Oh, um… Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I have the wrong number. I didn’t mean to–”

“This is Forest. Samantha’s son,” I’m quick to say before she hangs up.

“Forest?” comes her whispered reply. That’s when I recognize her voice. The way she says my name sounds exactly like Jett’s little sister.

“Fiona?” I ask, confusion mixing with the adrenaline running through my veins. “What happened? Where are you?” My brain snaps back to the original mission. She needs help.

“This is so embarrassing,” she mumbles.

“Hey,” I tell her in a softer tone. “Your safety isn’t anything to take lightly and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?”

A few sniffles come through the line and I get the strongest urge to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from whatever made her so afraid.

"Some guys were giving me a hard time. First, they made rude comments and then one tried some stupid, vulgar pick-up line. When I tried walking away, they…" Fiona takes a breath while I clench my fists.

“What did they do?” I ask, trying with all of my might to keep my voice calm and even.

“They cornered me and started grabbing at my hair and clothes but the bouncer came over and ripped them away. I’m… I’m okay. I just… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I called. I just… My friends left me and I don’t have a ride home. But it was stupid to call Samantha. I can walk. It’s not that far.”

“Where are you?” I ask for the second time.

“Really, it’s fine,” she insists, though her voice is still shaking. “You know how small this town is. You can stand on one side of it and see clear across to the other side. I’ll be home in no time.” Fiona tries to go for a joke, but she’s too upset to pull it off.

“Where are you?” I keep asking. “Sweetheart Falls only has so many bars. I’ll drive around to all three of them unless you want to make it a little easier on me and let me know which bar you’re at.

Silence stretches over the phone, and for a moment, I think Fiona hung up. But then I hear her take a deep breath and let it out. “McMulligan’s Pub,” she finally answers.

“Hang tight, sweetheart. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

I don’t have time to dwell on the pet name I gave her or how easily it rolled off my tongue. This is Fiona. My oldest friend’s little sister. I haven’t thought about her in years, and I certainly didn’t know she was old enough to be in a bar. Not that any of that matters. I’m just doing a solid for an old friend. If I had a little sister, I hope someone would look after her and treat her well in a situation like this.

Even as I gather up my keys and wallet, I know this is more than a favor for a friend; I just haven’t decided what exactly it means yet.

2

FIONA

As I wait outside McMulligan’s Pub for Forest to pick me up, I cross my arms over my chest and hunch my shoulders up, trying to make myself as small as possible. Easier said than done when you're a plus-sized woman with extra wide hips and too much cleavage to know what to do with.

Still, I want to cover up as much of my skin as I can after what happened tonight. A shiver runs down my spine as every muscle in my body tenses. I close my eyes against the memory of those four men, their faces flashing behind my eyelids and their vulgar words filling my ears.

I’m shivering as I stand next to the curb, looking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one is behind me. I can’t remember if I left my jacket inside or if one of the men who harassed me ripped it off of me. Either way, I’m not going back inside the bar to find out.

A group of drunk women come stumbling out of the bar, their loud laughter startling me and making me wince. My head is pounding right along with my heart, both heavy with the pain of my trauma.

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