Page 3 of Rugged Mountain Man
He flew into a rage, spitting insults left and right until my face burned with shame.
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head at the memory of his fist connecting with my face. The burst of pain. The fear that had spread through my bones, cold and crystal clear, like frost.
Did he ever really love me?
Or had I been too blinded by his promises of family to see that he actually hated me?
Either way, it didn’t matter now. I fed another log into the fire, building it up to a roaring blaze. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, but those expired cans of Spam and beans weren’t appealing, to say the least. I’d packed a handful of protein bars in the bottom of my backpack, but I didn’t know when I would be able to access food again, so I needed to make them last as long as possible.
There would be no dinner tonight.
I sighed and curled up on the ratty old rug in front of the fireplace. At twenty-six years old, I really thought my life would look different than this.
Instead, here I was, with no friends, no family, no boyfriend. Alone again. Just like that little girl I used to be, hoping that someone would adopt me one day.
A shiver racked my body. Even with the fire burning hot, the drafty cabin didn’t fend off the cold. I retrieved the Carhartt jacket from the closet, shaking off a layer of dust and brushingaway moths. The liner had a few holes, and it smelled like mice, but it was better than nothing.
Burrowing into the jacket, I returned to the fire. Exhaustion weighed my eyelids down. Wind howled outside as darkness shadowed the cabin. Golden firelight flickered along the walls, dancing across the floor in garish patterns.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, the rumble of a car’s engine approached. Followed by the tread of footsteps. The front door gave a groan as it was shoved open.
Someone was here.
I sat bolt upright. Standing on the threshold was the hulking figure of the largest man I’d ever seen in my life.
With trembling hands, I grabbed the fire poker next to the fireplace. The metal was cool in my grip, but firm, comforting. I cocked it back over my shoulder like a baseball player, ready to swing.
Chapter two
Cormac
I froze with my hand on the door knob and the cold wind at my back.
There was a woman in my cabin. Staring at me with wide eyes, mostly hidden in shadow, and armed with a fire poker.
Silence hung in the air, thick with tension.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, even though her voice cracked.
I arched an eyebrow.
“I should be the one asking you that question.”
A bruise colored her cheekbone, like a purple and blue crescent moon. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. When she didn’t say anything for several seconds, she rocked back on her heels, wariness in her eyes.
“How did you get the shiner?” I added.
She licked her lips, deliberating.
“Car door,” she replied. “Smacked myself in the face with it.”
I huffed at the lie. Shaking my head, I let my rucksack slide off my shoulder.
“Try again. Be a little more convincing this time.”
She pressed her lips together, stubborn.
Fine. If she didn’t want to tell me, I didn’t need to know details. But that black eye was no accident. Someone gave it to her. And if I had to take a wild guess, that’s probably the reason why she was hiding out here in the first place.
