Nauti Intentions

“And do what? Lock her in a box?” Alex asked him. “Show her she’s still a child with no control over her own life?”



Natches paused, one boot on, one off, his expression twisting in disbelief. “You think I’m going to let some fucking crackpot threaten her?” His voice rose. “Did you read that trash, Alex? What if it were Crista?”



Alex ran his hand over his hair. “I thought of that.” He nodded. “I’d go after her. And we’d fight. And she’d push me as far away from her as she could if she thought she could handle it. I talked to Zeke again before I came in this morning. Janey thinks it’s pranks. She’s not going to budge.”



Natches’s expression twisted in fury.



“That’s not pranks,” Natches yelled. “Dammit, Alex. You know that. That’s not pranks.”



“You’re not going to convince her of that,” Alex warned him.



“Are the three of you going with me?” Natches turned to his cousins, his uncle.



They were already getting ready to go. Their expressions were hard, murderous. And Alex couldn’t blame them. Janey was still a kid to these men, unprotected, terrorized her entire life, and she was still standing. They wanted her to have peace, not more fear.



“Thanks for the tip,” Natches snarled. “You can go home now.”



Alex arched his brow. “Get fucked, Natches. This is my business, too. Or did you forget who you tagged years ago to help keep an eye on her?”



This was going to get dicey as hell, because he knew damned good and well Janey wasn’t going to let Natches lock her up.



“Every one of you has lost his mind.”



They swung around as Chaya moved from the back bedroom, the mound of her stomach barely poking against the T-shirt she wore over her pajama bottoms.



“How the hell did I know you wouldn’t sleep through this?” Natches grimaced at his wife as she moved into his arms. “Go back to bed.”



“Not on your life.” She shook her head. “And you better think before you go to Janey screaming your little heart out. She’s just like you, Natches. She’s going to go her own way, no matter what you want.”



And that was pretty much Alex’s opinion of the entire situation.



“She’s smaller than me,” Natches informed her. “She’s coming back here. Period.”



“Bet me.”



Alex could see the ragged rage and pain in Natches’s face, and he understood it more than the other man knew. Alex had nearly lost his own sister to this bullshit. When Johnny Grace, Nadine Grace’s son, had impersonated Crista and stolen government missiles. Johnny had realized no one believed it was Crista, and his lover had kidnapped her and Johnny had nearly killed her.



It was Natches who had saved her. He’d killed his own cousin with a sniper rifle as Johnny had tried to kill Crista. Yeah, Alex knew exactly how he felt, but now Natches was going to see what Alex had known even then. Sisters didn’t always do what you wanted them to do. No matter how dangerous their way turned out to be.



“I have to try, Chaya.” Natches moved away from her, grabbed his leather jacket from the hook on the wall, and turned back to the rest of them. “Ready?”



“Ready!” Dawg, Ray, and Rowdy already had their coats on and were heading for the door.



“Natches,” Chaya called out as he opened the door to the houseboat. “Don’t push her too hard. You’ll



regret it.”



He stared back at her, his eyes alive with the anger burning inside him.



“I’ll do what I have to do to protect her, Chaya.”



She smiled at that. “You’ll do what you can do, Natches. What she lets you do. Remember that.”



Alex watched the other man’s jaw tense, a sure sign he was grinding his teeth, and if the situation hadn’t been as serious as it was, Alex would have grinned.



Instead, he followed the other men out and up the docks to the vehicles. He got in his truck as the others got in theirs, and damned if he didn’t feel sorry for Janey this morning.



This was too dangerous, though, to let it go. Too dangerous not to let her family know about it. Losing Janey wasn’t an option. And if he didn’t let the Mackays know, and something happened to her, then he would never be able to look his own sister in the eye again.



They drove, four pickups in a row, into town and then along the town square. Mackay’s was in a converted office building at the end of the block, near the town square. Parking was on the street, a large lot at the side, and in the back. Lately, there hadn’t been enough parking.



It was closed now, the windows dark. Alex pulled his truck in beside Natches’s on the private side of the building. Rowdy, Ray, and Dawg parked on the street. Alex saw the curtains in the apartment over the restaurant flutter, and felt Janey staring down at the street. Shit was going to hit the fan now, and Alex had a feeling he was right in the line of fire.



He made sure he was behind the other four as they moved up the stairs. As they reached the landing, Alex wasn’t the least surprised when the door was jerked open and Janey stood there glaring at all five of them.



“Zeke has a big mouth,” she snapped before turning and stomping back into the apartment.



“Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Janey?”



Janey heard the edge of hurt in her brother’s voice and turned to him, raking her fingers through her hair and glaring at him.



“Because of this.” She waved her hand at the Mackays and Alex. Shooting Alex a look of retribution, she sneered. “Let me guess, you were the little messenger boy?”



“First a lapdog, now a messenger boy.” His smile was tight. “I’m going to start showing y’all just how well I make decisions on my own.”



“We’d have to give you a decision to make first,” Janey snapped, crossing her arms over her breasts and staring back at the men.



Damn. She had cute cousins, but they didn’t look cute this morning as they frowned at her. And Uncle Ray didn’t look happy at all.



“You could have told us about the letters, little girl,” Ray berated her gently. “You think we’re going to stand by and let someone hurt you?”



“Evidently she does.” Natches’s voice was quiet, but rough with anger. “Is this what you think of me, Janey?”



She shook her head slowly. “No, I never thought that, Natches. I thought exactly what I see. The four of you coming down on me like a ton of bricks just before you demand I come back to the boat and live with you.”



His eyes narrowed. “It’s the only way to protect you properly.”



It was the sure way to drive her slowly insane. There was no way she was living with Natches and Chaya again.



She glanced at Alex. He should be fixing this, not leaning against her damned wall like an amused mannequin.



His brow arched, the condescension in his expression causing her to grind her teeth.



“I’m not leaving.” She made the statement firm, flat.



She cleared her face, pushed back the fear and the pain, especially the fear that she would disappoint or hurt the family she’d never had a chance to love except from afar.



“You can move in with me and Maria,” Ray offered. “That would be a good alternative.”



“No, it wouldn’t.” It would steal the independence she had fought so hard for. “I’m not moving in with



anyone, Uncle Ray.”



She forced herself not to show any nervousness. She clasped her hands in front of her and faced five of the strongest, most determined men she had ever known or heard of in her life.



“This is not acceptable, Janey.” Natches’s voice rose. He didn’t yell or scream, but the anger in his face caused her to flinch.



“Enough, Natches.” Alex shifted from the wall. “Contain that temper of yours or get the hell away from her.”



Janey threw him a surprised look before she jumped in front of Natches, her hands on his chest as he moved for Alex.



“Are you going to hit him?” she asked quietly.



“Right in the face,” Natches snarled.



“Would you really do that to me, Natches?” she asked. “Would you hit a friend, a man who saved my life six months ago, just because you were out of line?”



His expression twisted. Fury, concern, and love—he stared at her with all those emotions, and it made her feel like slime. Like the lousiest sister in the world.



“Janey.” His hands clasped her shoulders. “I read those letters, honey. Whoever wrote them is dangerous.”



“Whoever wrote them is a coward,” she told him, moving away from him, rubbing her arms as she forced back a shiver of dread at the thought of those letters. “Let it go. I’m handling it.”



“Let it go?” Dawg beat Natches to the exclamation. “On what planet were you raised, Janey, that you think we’re going to let this go? You’re family. Do you think we’re going to let someone hurt you?



Terrorize you? Again?”



“I think you can’t really stop it.” She shrugged, hiding the shame, the bitterness at the thought of those letters. “None of us can. They’ll get bored and stop.”



“And then what?” Natches demanded. “Let me tell you, Janey. Then they get dangerous. Then they start taking shots at you.”



She curled her lips bitterly. “And you want me to let you stand in front of me. Again? I’m not eight anymore, Natches. And Dayle is dead. Even then, I learned how to fight my own battles. I’ll fight this one, too.”



“Son of a bitch, Janey!” He reached for her again, and the swift strike of fear that filled her must have shown on her face, because he stopped. His brows lowered in agony, his lips tightened. “Did you think I’d hit you, Janey?”



“No, dammit, I don’t think you’ll hit me.” She was so tense now she felt as though the slightest touch would shatter her. “You moved too fast, Natches. It freaked me out. Okay?”



The quick, predatory action of her brother’s body often had her forcing herself to contain her reactions to it. Dayle had always been quick, quick to hit, to push, to backhand her if he thought she were in the least resistant to what he wanted.



Learning to control her reactions around men, any man, had been her hardest battle in the past months.



“Janey, we’re family,” Rowdy said then. “If you won’t come to the boats where we can watch you, or to Dad’s, then we’ll have to take turns staying here with you. It would be easier if you’d stay with one of us.”



She lifted her gaze beseechingly to Rowdy. He was usually the sane one. The one the others listened to.



“Rowdy, I’ll be okay. I can’t just leave.”



“And, Janey, we haven’t had you back with us long enough to take that risk,” he told her gently. “Hell, if we had raised you ourselves, we couldn’t take that risk, sweetheart. You’re family.”



And she felt that; she did. It made her chest tighten with emotion, made her want to run to Natches and have him hug her, hold her, just ’cause he made her feel this way. That he cared that she was safe. That their cousins cared that she was safe. She wanted to hug all of them. But hugs had never been a part of Janey’s life, and taking one for herself now wasn’t that easy.



“You’re too damned stubborn, Janey,” Natches accused her.



“So says the kettle to the pot?” she asked sweetly.



Fat Cat chose that moment to walk arrogantly into the room, his rumbling growl directed at the men before he crouched and gave them all a little hiss. His orange fur seemed to bristle, and he gave all the appearance of a grouchy, ill-tempered male that didn’t want to deal with socializing that morning.



His head turned to Janey, topaz eyes glittering as though blaming her for all the testosterone parked in her living room. Or maybe he considered it his living room.