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-77-

Lora Leigh

He watched as the
Nauti Buoy
pulled into her berth, fifty feet and
gleaming beneath the summer moon, her lights giving the craft a soft,
romantic look. How he had dreamed of having such a craft, a place he
could use to hide, to take his good girls and fulfill the promises he made to
them.

He thought he had chosen so wisely. His perfect girls, pure in heart
and in nature, and they loved him. He was their love, but it had taken so
long to find the one he wanted for all time. The perfect good girl. So sweet-
natured and pure, never dirtying herself or her good name. Despite the
brother.

His fists clenched at the thought of the brother. He was depraved,
perverted and he was going to dirty her. Rowdy Mackay was going to
shame Kelly, and he knew it. He had seen them today, in the store, his
hands on her, his eyes raking over her as though he owned her.

Rowdy Mackay didn’t own her. She belonged to the man who had
loved her, who had respected her. And she was going to love him. Just like
the others did. They hadn’t loved anyone else either. He watched them
sometimes, making certain they didn’t allow anyone else to touch what
belonged to him. Sometimes he called them, reminded them of who they
were waiting for. They had promised to wait on him to find his one true
love.

-78-

NAUTI BUOY

Kelly could be his true love. He thought it was possible. Until Rowdy
came home.

The Nauti Boys. They were depraved. Perverts. But they had never
fooled with the good girls. They left the perfect ones alone, always
preferring the tramps, the little whores willing to spread their legs not just
for one of them, but sometimes for all three at once. They shared their
women all the time, watching and listening to their nasty screams as they
begged for more.

His fists clenched, his gut rolling in sick suspicion. Rowdy had taken
Kelly away on the houseboat. He had never done that by himself before. In
the past, it had always been with her and her friends, never alone.

He shook at the fear that the bastard had dirtied her. He couldn’t let
that happen. Kelly was sweet and clean, she had never been dirtied by
another man’s seed, by another’s possession of her.

She had screamed for him when he touched her though. He hadn’t had
time to hear her beg for him, or to hear her promise to remain true to him.

No sooner had he attempted to possess her than that big dumb hick
visiting his whore girlfriend had started yelling outside the door. He
couldn’t get caught. His sweet Kelly couldn’t be seen with a man in her
bed. It would ruin her reputation and she wouldn’t be clean anymore. Her
reputation meant everything.

Bastard Rowdy. Rowdy Mackay thought he was perfect, thought all
the girls were his. He was going to hurt sweet Kelly, his sister. She was
his
sister
, he had no business touching her. Sisters shouldn’t be touched,
his father had warned him of that.

His eyes narrowed as Kelly moved from the boat and jumped onto the
narrow floating dock. She was angry. He could see it in her face, in the
stiff set of her body beneath the bright lights of the dock.

-79-

Lora Leigh

She said something as Rowdy locked the doors, causing the man to
stiffen, to turn to her slowly. He didn’t like the smile Rowdy gave her. It
was carnal. Dirty.

He watched as she stalked ahead of the other man, her loose clothing
demure, hiding the body that belonged to him alone. How perfect she was.

His good girl. He had to finish his claim on her. He had to make certain
she belonged to him. Not Rowdy. Never Rowdy and his perverted friends.

His eyes watered at the thought of them touching her, tears falling
down his cheeks as pain raged inside his soul. What was he going to do?

It hurt so bad to see her with him, to know what Rowdy would do to the
precious girl. His sweet little good girl, he raged in agony, Rowdy Mackay
would destroy her. He had to get her away from Rowdy.

He watched as Rowdy walked her to her car. He was too close to her,
even though she was angry. Rowdy was standing too close. He was
crowding her.

She unlocked the door and opened it, then Rowdy touched her.
Don’t touch her.
He clenched his fists, sniffing miserably, fighting the tears that
fell from his eyes. Rowdy shouldn’t be touching her.

But he was. The depraved bastard was touching her hair, her cheek,
smiling down at her. Rage shattered in his head, filling his vision with a
red haze as he watched another move from the shadows of the dock.

Dawg. The bastard couldn’t even use his real name—he used the
nickname of the animal he was.

Kelly started as the other man called out to them, flashed Rowdy a
furious look then got into her car. The car door closed and within seconds
she was pulling from the parking lot. She was going home. But she
wouldn’t be going alone. Rowdy would go as well. He lived in the house
with her. His bedroom would be close to hers, he could hear her, smell her,
maybe touch her as she slept.

-80-

NAUTI BUOY

Oh God, don’t let him touch her, he prayed. Don’t let him dirty the good
girl. She was
his
good girl. And, she just might be his perfect love.

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Kelly forcibly restrained the anger pounding through her bloodstream as she unlocked the front door and stepped into the entryway of her mother and stepfather’s home. She punched in the security code, keeping her back to Rowdy as he entered with her and then closed and locked the door behind them.

“It’s about time you two found your way home.” Ray stepped into the entryway, Marie following close behind.

Kelly breathed in deeply before turning to them, pasting a smile on her face as she met their concerned gazes.

“Rowdy has a habit of poking along on the way back to the docks.”

She kept her voice flat and even. “You know how he is.”

They weren’t convinced.

“She’s a lousy liar, isn’t she?” Rowdy drawled, his deep baritone still sending shivers up her spine despite her anger.

She glanced over at him. His thumbs were hooked in the pockets of his jeans, long legs stiff and straight as he smiled in open amusement back at their parents. She drew in a deep, hard breath.

“I’m going up to bed.” She smiled stiffly. “Rowdy can be a butt by himself. I don’t feel like dealing with it.”

She moved for the stairs, her hand gripping the balustrade when the phone rang. Her teeth clenched as she moved, jerking the phone up before Rowdy or Ray could reach it, staring back at them furiously as she brought it to her ear.

“Kelly, don’t.” Rowdy’s voice was an enraged growl.

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Lora Leigh

“Hello.” She could deal with it. It was time she knew what was being said, rather than hiding. What had made Rowdy so determined to use her to push this bastard?

“You liked it, Kelly. I didn’t dirty you. You’re still precious, pure.

You’re my good girl.” The hiss sent her stomach heaving. She stared at Rowdy’s chest, feeling rage, fear and a sudden overwhelming urge to commit murder rising inside her. “Don’t let him touch you, my good girl.

He’s your brother. You’re my love. I finally found you, my sweet little love…”

“Are you my love?” he whispered.

Pain twisted inside her as she felt his penis nudging at her rear, his
body holding her down, the smell of alcohol and the latex of the gloves that
covered his hands filling her nostrils. She was screaming, fighting, feeling
the painful penetration beginning as she finally worked the gag from her
lips and screamed.

“You’re my love, Kelly. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t let him dirty my good girl…”

“Get. Fucked,” she enunciated clearly, hearing his cry, a painful whimper of crazed rage, before she slammed the phone down on the cradle. She stared back at her mother, Ray, Rowdy.

“How often does he call?” She had avoided the phone, knowing the calls were coming, thinking they would stop. Eventually. Eventually he would have to go away.

Her mother gripped Ray’s hand with both of hers, her blue-gray eyes filled with fear. “Often.”

“How often?” She had been hiding, trying to forget, trying to get past the nightmares that came with facing what had happened, the fear and the helplessness.

“At least a few a day,” her mother finally answered.

-82-

NAUTI BUOY

“Marie.” Rowdy’s tone was warning.

“Douglas, let her face it,” Marie snapped. “If she wanted to continue to hide she wouldn’t be asking about it. She’s a grown woman, let her make her own decisions.”

“Yes, Douglas.” Kelly let her lips curve into a furious parody of a smile, mocking, challenging. “Shut up!”

He arched his brow slowly.

“He calls at least three or four times, sometimes more.” Her mother’s eyes were compassionate, filled with pain. “The answering machine in our room picks them up, as does the caller ID. They’re always made from pay phones, and never traceable. We turn in the tapes to the sheriff once a week as well as a list of the numbers that show up on the caller ID, if one shows up. Sometimes the number doesn’t show up at all. The sheriff has his deputy trying to trace them but they haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Does he always say…” She swallowed tightly. “What he did?”

“Kelly, dammit, that’s enough,” Rowdy growled. “What does it matter what he says?”

She stared back at her mother. Maria nodded slowly, her gaze filling with tears as Kelly felt her expression twist with fear and pain.

“I’m going to bed.” She couldn’t stand there any longer, she couldn’t bear the knowledge on their faces, the memory of the shame and pain her own foolishness had brought her.

She raced up the stairs, fearing Rowdy would follow her, grateful he didn’t. She slammed the door to her bedroom, twisting the lock on the handle before she stomped to her window and jerked the heavy curtains closed.

“Beg me for it,” he panted at her ear, holding her down. “You’re my
good girl, Kelly. You’re mine, it’s okay to let me in. Let me in…”

-83-

Lora Leigh

She shook her head, gasping for air as she pushed her fingers through her hair, fighting the sobs that wanted to build in her throat.

Why couldn’t he leave her alone? He had left the other girls alone for the most part, calling only once or twice to taunt them. He didn’t call them daily. He didn’t torment them. He didn’t make them remember.

Kelly had specifically asked the sheriff’s deputy in charge of the investigation if the other women were being harassed. Why was he harassing her?

But she had, as Rowdy had argued, essentially been the one who got away. She had escaped the full rape, suffering only some cuts made to weaken her, and a terror that still brought her awake with a cry on her lips.

She didn’t wear the clothes she used to because the marks were still there. Shorts and tank tops might reveal the nearly imperceptible white scars that still marred her arms, her shoulders and legs. Nakedness would reveal the ones on her buttocks. Deeper slices had been made there as he held her down, cutting her panties from her.

Her mother swore they weren’t noticeable. But to Kelly, they were.

She still remembered the feel of that knife biting into her. Razor-sharp, the skin parting as cold pain streaked through her nervous system and the feel of hot blood as it began to pour from the wounds.

The doctor had assured her that within a few years they would be gone entirely. She wondered if the memories would fade as well.

She paced through the dark room to the wide recliner that sat on the far wall, beneath the standing lamp she used to read by. Collapsing into it, she propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands. The calls were coming more frequently than they had been the last time she asked. He was getting more dangerous, she knew that.

Sensed it. She didn’t need Rowdy’s arguments earlier to understand that

-84-

NAUTI BUOY

he was focused on her because he hadn’t finished with her the night he tried to rape her. He was convincing himself he loved her. That she loved him. That she was meant to somehow be his.

She felt her stomach heave at the thought of it even as anger began to burn inside her. The fear was almost overwhelming at times, the memory of the pain, and the certainty that she was going to die, eating her alive. Until that night there had been no uncertainty about what she wanted. She knew Rowdy, knew his sex games, knew the sexual, carnal creature he had grown into. She had heard stories of their lush eroticism for years. And she saw how women watched them. The envy, the furtive hunger and shameful lust that raced through their eyes whenever the three men were near.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t dream about it. She jerked to her feet, pacing the dark room. Fantasized about it. Over the years she had awakened more nights than she could count, sweating, reaching out for a touch, a release that never came. But in those dreams, it was always Rowdy alone. They had not mirrored her waking fantasies or the carnal arousal she felt at the thought of the sex games she knew Rowdy participated in with his cousins.

“He’s making me crazy,” she muttered as she stalked from one end of her bedroom to the other.

As though the fact he was making her crazy was anything new. He had been doing that far longer than four years. From the day she first met him, from the moment the fifteen-year-old Rowdy had picked her up from where the bully had pushed her to the ground, she had loved him.