She had been terrified of Rowdy knowing. Fearing he would blame her.

But even more, she had feared for Rowdy. He would have never stayed on duty if he knew what was going on at home. He would have left, with or without permission, and returned for vengeance. Rowdy protected those he cared about, and Kelly knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would have come racing home, even if it meant going AWOL.

But now Rowdy was home. And Kelly knew, once he learned the truth, he would never let it rest. He would find the stalker tormenting her, or he would die in the effort. And the fear of his death overshadowed even the fear of the threat she faced herself. Because life without the promise of seeing Rowdy, of hearing his laughter and the dark promise of passion in his voice, was a life Kelly didn’t want to contemplate. A life she knew she didn’t want to face.

TWO

At fifty-seven, Ray Mackay was still a powerful man, with hazel eyes and hair that still retained much of its raven black color. His weathered face was starting to crease with deep laugh lines at the sides of his eyes. Eyes that were usually cheerful, always warm and friendly, were now somber.

Rowdy was waiting on the front porch of the two-story white and red farmhouse when his dad pulled into the driveway, the dark green Jeep Laredo parking beside Rowdy’s Harley.

Maria Mackay was out of the jeep before Ray turned the engine off, rushing up the cement walkway, her gray blue eyes concerned as she met his gaze.

“Is Kelly okay?” Maria Salyers Mackay was still slender for her forty-seven years of age. The summer shorts and crisp, white cotton shirt showed off her tanned legs and arms attractively.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He leaned against the railing, watching her with narrowed eyes. “And why do I have a feeling that if I had warned ya’ll I was coming home, that I might have found my way barred?”

He could see it in her face, in his father’s heavyset expression. They hadn’t expected him, and they weren’t comfortable with him being there alone with Kelly. And that just pissed him off. Whatever the hell was going on, one thing should have been set in cement in their heads, and that was the fact that he would die before he hurt Kelly.

“I’d never bar you from your own home, Douglas.”

He winced. Maria was the only person who called him Douglas, and the snap in her voice when she said it now was as sharp as a knife. No one called him Douglas, ever. But hell, she had taught him in school and breaking her of the habit wasn’t easy.

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at her intently as she stepped onto the porch.

“I’m going to check on Kelly.” She moved for the door.

“Not yet.” He didn’t move; he didn’t intend for his voice to lower warningly, or his body to tense as he watched a main source of information attempt to escape. But he wanted answers, and she wasn’t running off until he had them.

“Go on, Maria.” Ray stepped up behind her, his large hands settling on her shoulders as he gave them a comforting squeeze. “I’ll talk to Rowdy. We’ll be in soon.”

She glanced up at Rowdy, worry and regret shimmering in her eyes before she turned to her husband, kissing his cheek gently before moving into the house.

Rowdy’s attention fixed on his father, watching as he swiped his fingers through his hair before burying his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Was she raped?” Rowdy lifted the bottle of water to his lips, taking a long sip as he watched Ray’s eyes darken with pain.

Ray breathed out roughly, his shoulders shifting as he lowered his head.

“Attacked,” he finally muttered. “She wasn’t raped. But she was cut up pretty bad, traumatized.” He lifted his head and Rowdy wondered if his father could see the pure murder burning inside him now.

“Who did it?” He kept his voice even, cool nonetheless.

Ray shook his head slowly, his expression heavy.

“She didn’t see his face; there were no leads on who he was or why he attacked her.”

The water bottle crumpled in Rowdy’s hand, water sloshing over his fingers before he realized what he had done. Forcing himself to release the plastic, he set it on the railing and focused on his father.

“Where did it happen?”

“She moved out right after your last visit,” Ray sighed roughly. “Nice little apartment in town, next to one of her friends. Few weeks later she started getting crank calls. Caller ID couldn’t trace them. We put new locks on her doors and windows, but you know how she was.” Ray shook his head wearily. “Liked sleeping with her window cracked. She thought she was safe. Thought she would hear it if someone snagged the fire escape ladder. But she didn’t. Her neighbor’s boyfriend heard her screams and knocked the door down, but he’d already hurt her. The attacker got out the window before the boy could catch him.”

Short and to the point. And he was hiding something, Rowdy could feel it. He stared back at his father, silent, probing, knowing he would tell him eventually. Rowdy wouldn’t give him a choice.

Ray glanced back at him, then away. His teeth clenched, rage glittered in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a normal attack,” he finally muttered.

Rowdy felt a chill race up his spine.

“What do you mean by that?” He had to force the words past his throat.

Ray coughed nervously. “He meant to rape her anally. He almost managed it.”

“Motherfucker! God. Damn!” Rowdy flung himself across the porch, his hands running over his head before he gripped the back of his neck in fury. “Son of a bitch!” His abdomen tightened as he fought to hold back a howl of pure rage before jerking back to stare at his father. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Hell Rowdy, what could you do?” Ray snapped, anger suffusing his face. “She begged us not to tell you. You were clear across the world with no hope of coming home anytime soon. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Like hell,” he snarled. “They would have let me come home or dealt with the consequences. That’s no excuse.”

“Exactly.” His father’s face flushed with anger. “You would have gone AWOL to come home, and caused even more of a mess for that kid. Do you think we didn’t know what the hell was going on before you left the first time? You couldn’t keep your eyes off her and she was just a fucking kid. Four years later you were back for three months and it was worse. She didn’t need that. The attack was too brutal and she was too damned vulnerable. I opted to wait till you returned, and I stand by that decision.”

“Damn.” Rowdy pushed his fingers through his hair before rubbing at the back of his neck with an edge of violence. “Son of a bitch, Dad. Who would do that to her?”

Ray shook his head. “There was a rash of rapes last summer. Several girls in surrounding counties were attacked, all anally. No one caught the bastard and the sheriff has no leads. She’s finally coming out of it, Rowdy, getting a grip on herself. But it was bad for a while. Bad enough that we wondered if she would ever leave this damned house again.”

And no one had told him.

“Look, Son,” Ray finally breathed heavily. “I know how it was with you the last time you were home. With her.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I know about the games you, Dawg, and Natches get up to. And so does Kelly. Don’t expect anything from her. You hear me?”

Rowdy stared back at his father in surprise. Damn, this was just what he needed right now.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked his father softly.

Ray shook his head. “I don’t want you to say anything, Son. I want you to let Kelly come to you. She’s been scared to death of your return, and I don’t know why myself. I know you wouldn’t hurt her, but I know for a fact she knows about some of those little affairs you and your cousins have participated in.”

And his father suspected she was scared of him now. Rowdy could see it in Ray’s eyes, feel it in the air around them.

And he was probably right. God help the bastard that touched her, because if Rowdy ever found him, he would turn him into dog meat.

“I’ll head to the boat.” Rowdy breathed in roughly. He needed time to think, time to figure this one out.

Ray blinked several times, his expression twisting in emotion as he turned quickly away from Rowdy and headed to the house. Pausing at the door, he turned back to his son and said, “Did I ever mention how proud of you I am, Boy?”

Rowdy snorted. “Stop calling me a boy, Pop. You’re going to kill my rep, you know.”

His throat tightened with emotion as well. He knew what his father was saying.

“I’m proud, Boy,” he muttered. “Damned proud.”

And Rowdy felt like a failure. He had failed to protect the only woman who had ever held his heart because he was too damned busy running from her. He should have been home, he should have been holding her in his bed, loving the hell out of her. If he had staked his claim, she wouldn’t have been in that damned apartment.

He breathed in roughly before turning to the door himself. His duffel bag was in his old room. Not that he stayed at the house much when he was home in the summers. He had thrown the bag in there for convenience; now he was going to have to collect it.

Rowdy jerked the door open, stalking into the house before coming to an abrupt stop. Kelly stood at the top of the landing, her face paper white, her long, damp hair hanging over that fucking shapeless T-shirt, her hands clenched in front of her.

Her lips were trembling, her eyes big and dark and filled with tears.

Rowdy glanced away, fighting for control before he turned back to her and began to walk steadily up the steps. The tears gathered in her eyes, until one dropped as she stepped back, allowing him to stand beside her.

God, he wanted to wipe that tear away, wanted to erase the shattered pain he saw in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “I’m so sorry, Rowdy.”

“Why?” He asked the question softly, aware of her mother standing farther up the hall, his father in the entryway.

“I wasn’t careful—”

“No.” She flinched as he snapped the word out. “Don’t be sorry for that, baby. That wasn’t your fault.” His arms hung limply at his side, his own world lying broken at his feet, and he couldn’t even hold her. Couldn’t comfort her. It was ripping his guts to pieces. “I’ll be at the boat if you need me. I’ll always be here if you need me.”

And for now, that was all he could give her. Right now, it was all he had. He moved away from her, turning and stalking to his bedroom, ignoring Maria’s whispered “Douglas?” as he pushed the door open.

His duffel bag was still on his bed, unpacked.

“I’ll get the rest of my stuff later.” He picked up the Marine-issue bag and turned to face his father as the other man followed him into his room.

“Make sure you’re home for dinner,” Ray growled, his voice rough. “Don’t forget you have family here at the house too.”

Rowdy forced a smile to his lips as he jerked the duffel bag from the bed and headed to the door.

“Dinner for sure. Tomorrow.” He nodded. “I have things to do tonight.”

He paused outside the door, staring at Kelly where she stood on the landing, her eyes wide with pain.

“Come down to the boat whenever you need to,” he told her softly. “Anytime baby.”

He came back for her. He wasn’t hiding that, not from his father and not from her.

A glimmer of surprise filled her eyes as a little flush moved beneath her pale skin. At least she didn’t look terrorized anymore. It didn’t mean he had recovered though. Rage was eating a hole into his gut and pounding through his bloodstream with enough force to make him wonder exactly how good his control was now.