Page 3 of Claimed By The Mountain Man

Two men step up next to me.

“Good, you’re here,” one says, clamping a hand on my upper arm.

“Hey!” I shout, trying to tug free, but it’s no use.

“I’m sorry, Scout. It was the only way,” my dad says.

I glare at him. “What? What does that mean? Who are these guys? Where are they taking me?”

He doesn’t answer.

I kick and twist, screaming for someone to help me, but everyone ignores the terrified girl being dragged backward down the church hallway into a side room. I frantically look for a way out as the door closes behind me. I scream as one of the men drags my pants down my legs and tosses them aside. My thin tank top is stripped next. I try to cover my bra and chest, but it doesn’t do much good. A second later, I’m shoved into a poofy white dress.

Oh my god. It’s a wedding dress, I realize when I catch my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door.

“I’m not getting married!” I shout.

“Leonard might have something different to say about that,” one of the men says.

I blanch. I know who Leonard is. He’s a loan shark, my father’s favorite since he never seems to put a cap on the amount he’ll loan him. He’s also close to sixty years old.

My dad has sold me to him to repay his debts.

Tears sting my eyes as my heart breaks. Any hope of repairing our relationship dies a swift death inside me.

I can’t marry him. I won’t. I need to get out of here.

I see a bathroom off to the side, and I step toward it.

“Hey!” one of the men snaps at me.

I flinch. “I need to pee.”

He rolls his eyes. “Make it quick.”

I nod and hurry into the bathroom. I can barely get the door closed behind me in this dress, but I somehow manage. As soon as I’ve flipped the lock, I climb onto the counter and shove at the window. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to fit through it, but I have to try. Something tells me that this will be my only chance to escape.

The window creaks as it slides open, and I pray they didn’t hear that as I jump and heave myself onto the ledge.

A few people give me weird looks when they spot the girl in the wedding dress shimmying out the window, but no one stops or offers to help.

“God, I hate this town,” I hiss as I fall to the ground.

My palms and knees are scraped up and starting to bleed, but I can’t deal with that right now. I spot my car a few yards away and bolt for it.

My heart races like a jackhammer in my chest as I shove the key into the ignition. The car sputters, and I laugh hysterically.

“Not now! Don’t die on me now!”

I almost sob with relief as the engine turns over. Shifting into drive, I peel out of the parking lot.

I did it. I escaped.

I just hope I can get far enough away before they realize I’m gone.

2

Carter