Chapter 1

Two months later

He was out there. Sam could feel it. The knowledge throbbed in the scars on his abdomen, in the dark nightmares that were suddenly surfacing even while he was awake. The bastard was watching them, waiting, perfecting his timing before he struck again.

He stared into the night through the bulletproof balcony doors of his bedroom and wondered when the stalker would strike again. Who was he, and why was he intent on revenge for the destruction of a madman? Jedediah Marcelle had been a monster. A creature of such evil, such black, all-consuming perversions, that he was every nightmare come to life.

Sometimes Sam wondered if the bastard’s ghost wasn’t stalking them, threatening to steal from them everything they held dear. And those women were held dear. Marly, Sarah, and Heather. His jaw clenched at the thought of the pain each of them had already endured. Especially Heather. The bastard had cut her, stripped her of her clothes, spread her legs, and sliced into the soft, velvety flesh of her mound. The razor thin cuts had been just deep enough to ensure that scars remained, but not so deep as to maim. Barely visible now, but easily felt. He ran his hand over his abdomen, feeling the roughness of the flesh there, the scars he carried himself. If he went further, he would feel those on his cock.

He closed his eyes then, fighting the sick rolling of his stomach, the guilt and shame and never-ending knowledge that his violent refusal of Marcelle’s advances had resulted in months of horror for not just himself, but his brothers as well. A refusal that had changed all their lives forever.

He propped his elbow on the doorframe and rubbed his forehead over his arm. Thinking of the past sickened him. The smell of blood, semen and tears drifted through his memories as agony pierced his soul. He clenched his teeth, fighting the dark visions that drifted through his mind.

For the most part, he had blocked the memories. Unlike Cade and Brock, he had somehow managed to dim the brutal clarity of what had happened. For a time. Now they seemed to be returning with a vengeance, and not just in the form of nightmares. In the form of bloody flashbacks and twisted expressions of death. He shook his head, feeling the moisture that chilled his flesh as a cold sweat enveloped his body. He raised his head, blinking as he stared out at the moonshadowed landscape of the ranch and fought for answers.

“Where are you?” he whispered bleakly. “And what the hell do you have planned now?”

“I’m sure he’ll let us know soon.” The soft, feminine voice had him jerking the curtains closed and turning to the connecting door.

She stood there, framed by the soft light from her room, red hair gleaming from the backlight, her expression shadowed.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” He frowned as he checked to be certain the curtains were closed securely and that there was no chance prying eyes could see her. She had been attacked because of his attraction to her, his affection for her. He couldn’t take the chance that the violence against her would escalate.

“Cade didn’t tell you?” She stepped farther into the room, her slender body moving languidly in the dim light. “He thought it would be safer for me to sleep up here rather than downstairs. Personally, I think I’m starting to cramp family time down there.”

She smiled as she said the words, but he heard the vein of hurt in her voice. She knew…knew he had been with Sarah and Marly, knew he had gone to them when he continued to refuse to go to her.

“I won’t make excuses…”

“Do I ask you for excuses, Sam?” She tilted her head as she watched him. “You explained it to me pretty clearly the first time. I don’t have a hold on you, so it’s none of my business…” She paused. “Right?”

Sam watched her broodingly. If only she knew. Unfortunately, telling her would only add to his problems.

“Yeah. Right,” he grunted as he turned away from her. “Fine, you’re in the room beside me. Keep the door closed, ignore my snoring and we’ll get along fine.”

Now he could only pray she could ignore the nightmares. Somehow he had a feeling that was wishful thinking at its height.

“So you snore?” She walked farther into the room, as though she owned the place, Sam thought.

“Loudly.” He tried to ignore the fact that she plopped on his bed and watched him expectantly as he stared back at her.

“Fine.” She shrugged. “I’ll ignore your snoring, you ignore my vibrator buzzing.”

He blinked. His heart damned near shot out of his chest, it thundered so hard, and his cock was fully erect and throbbing no sooner than the words were out of her mouth. Damn her, she didn’t play fair.

“Son of a bitch!” He raked his fingers roughly through his hair as he stared at her in amazement. “You’re a virgin.”

“So?” She was laughing at him. He could hear the amusement in her voice, the mockery. “Even virgins get horny, Sammy.”

She scooted back on the bed, crossing her legs like a damned pretzel as she propped her chin on her fist and watched him.

“Aren’t you on duty or something?” If she didn’t get out of his damned bed he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions. The thought of that vibrator was killing him.

“Nope. I just came off duty. Everything’s quiet and calm for now so I thought I’d come see if you needed to be tucked into bed or something.”

Or something, definitely, he thought heatedly. Less than two hours ago he had climaxed until he wanted to scream with the pleasure, and now he was dying to touch Heather, to take her, to hear her cries echoing around him. To possess her in a way she could never imagine. A way he knew she could never accept. Then he stopped. Had she heard? Did she know it was her name he cried out as he pumped his semen deep inside Sarah’s body?

“Where were you earlier?” He couldn’t stop the question. Couldn’t stop the need to know.

“I wasn’t watching, if that’s what you want to know.” The amusement was gone from her voice. “I was tucked nice and safe in the camper, hon, so you don’t have to worry.”

He heard the hurt, the lingering question in her voice, and fought to ignore it.

“Who was worried?” Hell, he almost came in his jeans just thinking about her watching.

“Sam.” Her voice warned him that he was treading dangerous ground. A subject she didn’t want to discuss, one she refused to understand.

“Fine, Heather.” He breathed out roughly. “Now go tuck yourself into bed and I’ll play nice and stay in the house tonight. How’s that? But get your ass off my bed and out of my bedroom before I forget why you were attacked, and why I can’t have you. Because God’s truth, I’m within minutes of fucking you until you can’t move.”

“Amazing.” Her voice was mocking. “I’m convinced the August men stole testosterone and stamina at birth. You three are like bunnies.”

“Keep it up and you’ll find out,” he grunted, fighting not to touch her as she moved slowly from the bed.

“Fine, I need to sleep anyway.” She shrugged, though he could feel the hurt echoing in the air around him. “More damned shopping tomorrow. As though either of those women need more dresses. Rick’s going to have to give this up soon.”

Sam stilled, watching her closely as she leaned against the tall poster of the bed.

“He’s still trying to draw the stalker out?” It would make the fourth venture into town.

Rick was convinced that the stalker had to be living close, in a position to hear the gossip concerning the August men and to sneak in and out of the ranch unnoticed.

“We have to do something, Sam. We can’t just wait on him to strike.” She shook her head, sighing roughly. “No one will be safe until he’s stopped.”

“Putting the three of you in danger isn’t the answer.” He turned away from her, rage ricocheting through him. “Goddammit. The bastard isn’t sane.” He shuddered as dark memories twisted inside him. “Heather, you don’t know. You don’t know what he could do to you.”

But Sam knew. He knew the pain and the horror, the bleak evil that could infect such men’s minds.

“We aren’t in danger, Sam.” She came to him, moving easily, comfortably into his arms as he opened them for her.

He needed to hold her. Just hold her. To feel her soft and warm against him, to feel, that for a moment, he was keeping her safe, keeping her sheltered. It was all he could allow himself for now.

“You’re all in danger.” He lowered his head, inhaling the clean, delicate scent of her.

“Rick will take care of us, and we’ll be surrounded by the bodyguards.” She moved back from him a second after he felt her tight nipples pressing into his chest through their shirts, though he kept her in the circle of his arms. “I just hate the shopping part.”

The wry amusement in her voice was designed to distract him. He knew that, and for the moment allowed her to believe she had succeeded.

“Buy a dress,” he whispered, bending down to nuzzle her ear as she shivered sensually. “Something short and light. Something to show off those pretty legs of yours.”

“I don’t think so.” He could hear the breathless quality of her voice. “I’ve seen what happens to the women in this house when they wear dresses. I’ll just keep my jeans for now, thank you.” She pressed against his chest, an indication of her need for escape.

“Heather.” His arms contracted around her, loathe to release her. “If the danger weren’t so high, the situation so desperate, I’d show you in a way you could understand. Explain everything in such sensual actions that you would never forget. I’d love you, baby, in ways you can’t even imagine.”

“Sounds good, Sammy.” Her voice was soft, sad. “Let me know when you run out of excuses, okay? I might be willing to try then.”

She moved away from him, glancing over her shoulder as she turned her back on him. For a moment, from the light of the other bedroom, he thought he saw a sheen of tears. But then she turned away and stepped slowly into her own room, closing the door behind her. The darkness enveloped him, inside and out.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed the situation, cursed the throbbing desperation of his hard cock. He couldn’t be around her, couldn’t think about her, without growing spike hard.

Being with Sarah or Marly didn’t help. It eased the demons, but not the emotional and physical demands that Heather inspired. He grimaced as he undressed for bed, throwing the clothes carelessly on the floor.

The bed was big, wide enough for three, and too damned lonely. He lay atop the blankets, staring up at the ceiling bleakly, then to the door that separated the two rooms as his eyes narrowed in intent.

Jerking a tube of lubrication from the beside table drawer, he squeezed a healthy amount into the palm of his hand, then stroked it over his straining cock as he imagined her. Imagined her coming to him, her soft body naked, hot, taking him, needing him. His fingers tightened around the throbbing shaft as the images of Heather, naked, wet and wild, drifted through his mind. She would be tight. So damned tight. He stifled his groan as he stroked his straining cock, his fingers moving slowly over the scarred flesh as they tightened with the thought of Heather’s tight, soft cunt. She would grip him, sear him. His hips flexed, his cock pulsing to the imagined sensation as his fingers stroked over the bulging flesh. The pace of his hand increased as he imagined her cries, her expression going slack with pleasure, her pussy tightening, spasming. He couldn’t stop the strangled groan as his cock exploded, spewing his creamy release over his hard abdomen as the pleasure tingled up his spine.

“Now that wasn’t fair.” His eyes snapped open as Heather stared at him from the doorway. And she was pissed. “Don’t use my fucking name, Sam, unless it’s me you’re actually fucking.”

She turned and slammed the door as she left again, leaving him surprised, a shade embarrassed, and so damned hard again he could do nothing but growl in misery.