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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 men 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.
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.
Kelly forcibly restrained the anger pounding through her bloodstream as she stepped into the house with Rowdy close behind her.
“It’s about time you two found your way home. ” Ray and Maria stepped into the entryway.
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 from 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 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…”
She shook her head at the intrusive memory. She had managed to hold back the fear while she was with Rowdy, but now that she was alone, it was sneaking in, attacking her. The feeling of being watched was overwhelming, her skin crawling as her stomach churned with panic.
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, 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. She didn’t need Rowdy’s arguments earlier to understand that she wasn’t out of danger. She knew she wasn’t, just as she knew that it was only a matter of time before her attacker made his next move.
She felt stalked. There was no proof, nothing but her own suspicions and her own fears. Shaking her head, she moved to her dresser. She pulled free one of the long sleeveless gowns she slept in and headed for the shower. A cold shower maybe, she thought as she adjusted the water. If she didn’t get the memory of his kiss, his teasing out of her head, she would go crazy.
But even the cool water did nothing to still the idea he had planted in her head earlier. She was furious that Rowdy would play games to draw the stalker out, but she was smart enough to realize she wasn’t safe.
She dried her hair, staring at the thin white scars on her shoulders and upper arms. There were four on one, three on the other. They showed clearly in the bright light of the bathroom, the dark blue gown emphasizing the marks.
At times she swore she could feel the ones on her buttocks.
She shook her head as she turned from the mirror, moving to the bedroom, her hand reaching out to flip off the light. She paused at the switch, her eyes narrowing on the man in her bedroom.
Rowdy had obviously showered as well. Dressed in gray sweatpants, he was propped against her pillows, waiting on her, a scowl creasing his handsome face.
“That expression freezes on your face and you’ll be terrifying little kids on the streets,” she informed him as she flipped off the light and walked into the bedroom.
“I’m not leaving you alone at night, Kelly—”
“Windows were locked and so was the door,” she informed him as she stood by the side of the bed, her arms crossed over her breasts.
“And I got in the door anyway. ”
She inhaled slowly, her gaze sliding to the shadowed outline of the door as Rowdy reached over and clicked on the dim lamp on the small table beside him.
