The long train ride gave her plenty of time to close all the past chapters of her troubled life, but some passages would have to remain. Bobbi was guilty of contributing to the death of the kindest person she had ever known; her father. She was also guilty of abandoning the life of another important entity; her own child. The sordid details would blur with time, but the truth could not be altered.
As the train slowed at the darkened outskirts of King's Cove, hope began to rise. Perhaps with her arrival at this all-important milk stop would come a new way of life. She was counting on it.
Bobbi didn't expect to be met at the station, because she hadn't said when she would arrive. But she hadn't counted on the train being three hours late either. As the train left her standing on the dimly lit platform it was after midnight. And there was no sign of life in the surrounding village.
The waiting room was unlocked so she went inside. Then she was encouraged when she saw a wall phone with a TAXI sign over it. She went to the telephone and lifted the receiver. Several minutes later a grouchy voice responded.
She learned that she had rousted the man out of bed, but he reluctantly agreed to come and get her. She would have gladly settled for directions to her mother's house, but it would have been impossible to walk with her heavy suitcases. She sat down and waited.
Soon she would be limiting her thoughts to her new life with her mother then she could refuse to admit the ghosts of the past. But there was still a moment left. She would take one backward look to set her thinking straight.
Her first thoughts went to her father. He had tried to provide a good home for her, but he couldn't ... not alone. He managed to earn an income that gave them a pleasant house in a decent neighborhood, and to give her a wardrobe envied by many of her classmates, but he couldn't fill her hours of loneliness ... not with money. But even the devouring loneliness had been her own fault, hadn't it?
Her father had once shown interest in an attractive widow in town, but when he suggested marriage Bobbi threw a tantrum. She actually made herself physically ill in protest. She wanted her daddy all to herself and she got him. That was the last time he brought the woman home, and he never mentioned marriage again.
To keep up his income her father had worked the night shift at the plant and had accepted every possible hour of overtime. This meant she had to be left alone practically every night of her life. Once she entered high school this freedom was her downfall.
At first she had a decent circle of friends, but somehow she couldn't keep them. She suspected that their parents didn't approve of "That Sargent girl with so much free time on her hands." Eventually she fell in with a gang that shared her own freedom. She disapproved of many of the things they did, but by constantly being around their misbehavior she eventually became a part of it. She recalled the turning point all too vividly. The night was a thing of beauty at the time, but it was a nightmare in retrospect. That was the night of Tom Sebastian; the beginning of everything.
Bobbi had just returned to the house after seeing her father off to work when the phone rang. It was Violet Schmidt as usual, but this time she had excitement in her voice. "Where have you been?" she said. "I've been dialing my finger off. I was scared you weren't home."
"Why all the urgency?" Bobbi asked.
"You know Tom Sebastian, don't you?"
"Sure ... who doesn't? At least I know him when I see him."
"Well, he's home from college and he has this neat guy with him. I just ran into them downtown and they want to take us dancing."
"Come on, Vi," Bobbi said. "They couldn't want to take me out ... I don't know either one of them."
"No, silly. Tom's my date. He wants me to fix Paul up with somebody. With you being my best friend, I called you right away."
"No thanks," Bobbi said. "No blind dates for me."
Vi convinced her, however, and a short time later a blue convertible pulled up in front of her house. Her date was a very nice young man named Paul, but she didn't like the setup. Her misgivings were confirmed later when, after a stop for beer, they went directly to the picnic grounds north of town.
She could have protested. At least she had with other boys on occasion, but Tom Sebastian was someone special. She couldn't behave in that corny way with him. He was the son of a prominent family and a college man. She didn't want to be a square.
Vi was obviously awestruck too, because Bobbi had never seen her act this way. The moment they got to the picnic grounds Tom got a pair of blankets from the trunk. He handed one to Paul and carried the other himself. Vi skipped along with him arm in arm, beckoning for Bobbi to follow.
Paul turned out to be nice enough. She necked with him as they lay along the riverbank, but when she removed his hand from her breast he accepted the hint.
Vi was something else. Almost at once she was in a wild embrace with Tom, and even before they finished their first beer, Tom could be seen undressing her under the light of the full moon. Bobbi tried to ignore what was going on, but it wasn't easy. They went into the full sex act not ten feet away. They were naked and sighs and groans accented every move they made. To avoid acknowledgement of the proceedings, Bobbi was glad to lose herself in the heavy necking session with her own partner.
Bobbi had always been passionate but she also had a sense of morals. Despite her own rise in sensuality she repeatedly put Paul back on the right track. He was breathing heavily, and they were moving together tightly, but neither was undressed. This was how she intended to keep things. That is ... until Tom interrupted.
"Not doing so good, eh pal?" Tom said standing over them. "Go over and see Vi and I'll have a talk with little Bobbi."
Bobbi didn't know what to think. She didn't like the switch idea, but she didn't protest. Paul went to Vi and immediately took over in an embrace. Tom sat down on Bobbi's blanket.
"What's wrong, beautiful?" he said. "Don't you dig my roommate?" t
"Sure," Bobbi said in confusion. "He's very nice."
"But not very romantic, eh?" With that he leaned over and kissed Bobbi on the lips. "I was hoping to get you alone," he said afterwards.
"You were?" said Bobbi, her heart pounding wildly. At first she was afraid he might still be naked, but she relaxed when she saw his trousers. "Why?"
"I think you're a real doll, is why. How come I haven't seen you around town before?"
"I've been around," said Bobbi, trying to ignore Paul who was getting undressed nearby. "I've seen you lots of times."
"No kidding?"
"Sure. Everyone knows who you are, I guess."
This wasn't very bright, but it was true. With this encouragement Tom settled down on his side and drew Bobbi close to him. She let it happen. He gathered her tightly in his arms and began to kiss her seriously. Bobbi exploded into a storm of deep passion. She had often imagined herself in an embrace with Tom Sebastian, the town's most desirable and eligible bachelor. At this moment she was in the middle of a dream come true. Somehow the past scene with Vi had been closed out of her mind.
She felt his hand close over her breast. She clutched it with her own in reflex with every intention of pulling it away. Instead she pressed it down harder. She couldn't be without it. It felt too good.
When his tongue slithered between her lips she felt her entire body quake from the shock, but she didn't turn away. In a direct violation of her self-styled code of morals she let her own tongue mingle with his. The moist contact was sweet, but it was also incredibly stimulating.
She found herself caught in a rush of sensual wildfire where one move led to another. The heat rose and needed fanning. Tom seemed to know exactly what to do to keep the flames alive. First, there was the unbuttoning of her shirtwaist dress. She even leaned forward when he sought the catch of her bra. This had never happened before, but it seemed all right now. It seemed important that he approve of her abundance of body. She also had to prove herself superior to Vi. She was proud of her full, healthy breasts and she wanted Tom to be pleased by them; He was.
First his hands luxuriated in her bosom softness, kneading, toying. She felt his palms over them one at a time, and winced as his fingertips drew to a point, plucking her aroused nipples. She was already beyond recall, but his next move completed his mastery over her. His mouth sought and found her breast. He pushed his tongue down hard, drawing a circle around the nipple. Then his tongue teased and tantalized the tip itself. As this went on his hand moved lower ... to her knee.
She had been pressed against him, especially with her lower body, but now as his hand found her knee she eased back a bit. She let her leg ease back so he could touch between her thighs. When his hand started to smooth along her thigh she found herself reclining over to her back. Her legs went apart and she let him touch her wherever he wanted. She knew her dress was drawn up above her waist, but she didn't care. She only knew she couldn't stop. Tom was taking her somewhere she hadn't been before, but she wanted to follow. Her only fear was that he might stop. A crazy thought found her staging an imaginary argument against her own virginity. She was prepared to convince him that she was ready to go all the way in case he slowed down. The need for such an argument never came. Tom had no intentions of stopping.
He pulled away and fumbled with his pants. Bobbi turned aside, pretending not to notice. As she did, she saw Paul and Vi deeply involved in deep sex. It was' all right, wasn't it? Vi thought it was all right, so why shouldn't she? After all, it wasn't as if she was a child. She had just turned sixteen.
"Come on, princess," Tom said, kneeling over her. "Off with the duds."
"Do ... I have to?" she asked, already lifting to assist. '
"Absolutely," he said.
She got a good look at his nudity then, and she felt a tremor of heat sear through her vitals. This was an important moment in her life. She had seen naked men on a couple of occasions; once it was her father caught between his room and the bathroom. Another time she walked upon to a group of boys swimming nude in this very river. But never before had she seen a naked man so close ... never. She was fearful, but her desire overwhelmed her fear.
He helped pull the dress over her shoulders and she got out of the slip by herself. He tossed the unfastened bra aside, and then leaned down to undo her garter belt. When he finished he kissed her on the thigh. As his kiss wandered madly over her legs he managed to roll down her nylons. All that was left was her panties and they were no real hindrance. She hoisted her hips to let him ease them off. She felt them slip down over her hips as though a curtain was being opened on an entirely new phase of her life. When she was naked she felt strangely liberated. She was almost a woman.
He drew back and knelt there for several moments. Bobbi wanted to reach up and pull him to her, but she couldn't move a muscle without his help. She watched hopefully.
"You're a beautiful girl," he said seriously. "Even prettier with your clothes off. And that's something, you know that?"
She couldn't reply.
"Most gals look lousy without their clothes ... but not you. You've got terrific breasts and just enough roundness to your hips, and those legs are really too much. You're the prettiest girl I've ever been with."
"Thanks," she said as he came back to her.
He had said nice things. He made her feel important and very proud. She would do her best to make him happy from this point on.
Tom devoured her mouth with a wet kiss. This time she probed into his mouth with her tongue. As she tasted him she lifted her hips. At last she felt him coming to her. His hard, muscular legs scrambled between her thighs, and his weight eased down to her with extraordinary softness. Somehow she had imagined that the sex embrace would be uncomfortable. She was sure a man's weight would crush a small girl. Now she knew she was wrong. Everything seemed to fit perfectly. The distribution of this man's figure melded perfectly with her own. Nothing was strange. It seemed as though she had been greeting men's bodies like this all her life.
At the great moment she gasped with a deep stab of pain, but it only annoyed her. Then she broke out in perspiration as Tom launched his purposeful mission. She groaned and whimpered and did her best to cooperate. The pain was great but the promise of pleasure kept driving her forward.
"Hey," he finally said. She opened her eyes to see, him braced above her on outstretched arms. His call shattered the stillness.
"Wh ... what?" she sighed.
"Are you ... a virgin?"
"Not ... any longer," she whimpered.
He didn't interrupt again and settled back over her. Slowly, very slowly, came the physical agreement. Then, began the dance to fulfillment.
She clutched his hard, muscular back. She lifted and plunged, rolled and soared. There was no pain now. It was all pleasure. The further they went the greater it became. Then all at once came the greatest pleasure of all. She had heard of this. She had read about it too. But no description had ever done it justice. The feeling was beyond words.
It seemed almost funny as she thought back on it. Bobbi hadn't been remorseful in the least when the long night was over. The only thing that bothered her was the part her girl friend played in it. Somehow Vi had marred the beauty of it. Bobbi never really forgave her. Her friendship with Vi ended that night.
Things had only begun with Tom, however. Just about every night that he was home from school he came to her house. They made love countless times in her own bed. She had never mentioned Tom to her father. Perhaps because of the deep guilt she wasn't even aware of. But this made things worse the night her father walked in on them. It made it appear that Bobbi was having an impromptu sex orgy with a virtual stranger.
Her father suffered a mild heart attack that night, but a greater blow felled him permanently a month later. That was when she went to him with the news of her pregnancy. That night she killed her own father. It was that simple. The doctors tried to tell her otherwise, and she finally reached a point where she could pretend to agree with them, but such words were hollow echoes. She would carry her guilt no matter what anyone could possibly say.
Tom deserted her after this. His parents tried to pay her off with money, but she refused it. She had her baby in an awful home for unwed mothers and then gave the baby away. It was all behind her now.
Since then she had discovered that she had a mother and she was coming to live with her. Perhaps this new relationship would ease some of the shame and cover some of the pain.
A sleepy looking middle-aged man entered the terminal, wearing a coat over what seemed to be his pajamas. There was no mistaking the bedroom slippers.
"You call a cab?" he said through a yawn.
"Oh, yes," she said, rising. "I'm sorry I got you up."
"Where you wanta go?" he inquired, scratching through his unruly black hair.
"The address is 37 Marine Street," she said.
He looked at her strangely, and shook his head. "You must have the wrong address."
"No ... I don't think so. I'm going to the home of Mrs. Ethel Razzner."
"That's it then," he said strangely. He picked up the bags and went outside to the waiting cab.
CHAPTER TWO
Her mother's apartment was much closer to town than Bobbi expected. In fact, it was part of the downtown section, and not a very good part either. The cab passed a dimly lit pool room, slowed at a scroungy bar called the Royal Flush and came to a stop almost in front of a run-down grocery store.
When Bobbi appeared puzzled the cab driver pointed out that the apartment entrance was the stairway at the side of the building. The apartment was over the store. He carried her heavy bags up the steps and placed them in front of the door. The shades were drawn but the inside rooms were lighted. Bobbi gave the driver an extra dollar for his trouble and he walked off without another word.
She was still standing in front of the door as the cab drove away. Somehow she couldn't get up the courage to knock. There was something so depressing about it all. She was about to move in with a woman who was a tptal stranger to her. A mother she had no idea existed until a few weeks ago.
Just as she lifted her hand to knock she heard voices coming from inside. She didn't know why but a reflex impulse caused her to retreat down the stairs. She paused there as a door above opened and someone left the apartment. "Not bad, Ethel," said a gruff voice. "See ya next payday."
"So long, Whitey," said a squeaky voice from inside. "And thanks."
Bobbi saw the weather worn face of the man from the luminescence of the street light as he stared curiously at her suitcase on the porch. He came down the steps and halted as they came face to face. Bobbi didn't speak and the man didn't either. He simply adjusted the battered denim yachting cap and moved on into the night. Bobbi, frightened now, froze in the shadows wondering what to do. She watched the man until he turned in to the entrance of the Royal Flush Bar. He must be a seaman, maybe a fisherman. What was he doing in her mother's apartment? What was the significance of their verbal exchange? A negative thought crossed Bobbi's mind but she dispeled it immediately. No ... it was impossible. She straightened, climbed the stairs, and rapped at the door.
A moment later, "Who's there?"
"It's me ... Bobbi Sargent," she answered. "I'm looking for Mrs. Ethel Razzner."
"Bobbi!" the voice called. Bobbi heard the lock and the door opened slightly. "I didn't expect you so soon, honey."
"I'm ... sorry. I should have warned you, I guess."
"Look, hon," said the shadowed form, "give me a minute to get fixed up a bit, okay? I won't be a sec."
"Sure ... of course." The door closed again, and Bobbi felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
After what seemed an interminable wait, the door opened fully, and Bobbi saw her mother for the first time. The woman looked at Bobbi for several moments and then opened her arms. Bobbi couldn't understand her own emotion, but tears came to her eyes as she accepted her mother's embrace.
"My little baby," said her mother in a low raspy voice. "My own little ole baby."
Her mother held her out at arm's length. Bobbi couldn't seem to speak.
"Look at you," said the woman. "A big grown-up beauty. Your ma's real proud, honey ... real, real proud."
Bobbi smiled and wiped away a tear. Seeing this, her mother went to a purse on a nearby table and brought back a tissue. "Blow your nose, baby," said her mother. "I got some Java boiling, and I have some nice cookies. We'll have ourselves a real old fashioned ma and daughter gabfest soon as you get settled."
Her mother hoisted one of the suitcases and they carried them through the drab living room to the hallway beyond. Her mother opened one of the three hallway doors. "Here's your room, sweetie. Just like it was there waiting for you all the time."
Bobbi wished she could think of something to say, but words wouldn't come. For one thing, she had to get used to this picture of her mother. She wasn't at all the way she had visualized her. She formed a mental picture that would probably have added up to a composite of some of her girl friend's mothers. More matronly, heavier perhaps. Bobbi's mother was extremely slender, and she looked younger than expected. Her face had lines, which perhaps indicated life hadn't been very kind, and she wore excessive makeup.
Bobbi's mother watched from across the room as her daughter opened one of the suitcases. The only closet Bobbi could find was the small cardboard wardrobe in the comer of the room. She proceeded to fill it with the contents from the single grip.
"My, my, girl, but you have the clothes!" said her mother. "Bet you're just my size too. Bet you didn't expect such a slim ma, did you?"
"You are very slender," Bobbi agreed.
"Know what we can do?" her mother said. "We can exchange each other's clothes and double our wardrobes. Don't that sound like fun? Why, I bet we could even pass for sisters."
Seeing that Bobbi was wondering what to do with her other clothes, her mother suggested bringing them to her room. Bobbi filled her extra closets, and then they went to the kitchen for the late snack.
Her mother poured the blackest cup of coffee Bobbi had ever seen. "I drink my coffee black, and I mean black," said her mother. "Do you use cream?"
"Maybe just a little," Bobbi said. "And some sugar too, if you have it."
"Hope you don't mind canned milk," said her mother bringing a can out of the ice box. "We aren't very fancy around here."
"No, that'll be fine," she said.
"Tony loves canned milk," her mother said. "I've seen him drink down a whole can at a sitting."
"Was that your husband's name?"
"Tony? Oh no, he's kind of a buddy, you might say. You'll meet him. You'll like him too. He's a card. Always full of tricks and jokes. You know, kinda the life of the party."
Ethel put a box of cookies in front of Bobbi. "How old are you now ... sixteen or seventeen?"
"I'll be eighteen in August."
"Why sure you will, honey. As if I could forget that summer. I was as big as a blimp when I was lugging you around. It was hot and I thought I'd die of heat rash. My belly looked like a big red boil."
"The cookies are good," Bobbi said.
"Look at the figure on you. You must wear a C cup at least. I used to be round in the right places too. You shoulda seen me back in the old days. I keep slim all right, but it costs me some important curves. Guess the old bloom leaves a gal when she reaches the September years."
"You aren't old. You look real young, in fact."
"Thanks, honey. I know what I got though ... and what I ain't got. If I had your figure I'd be worth a million bucks."
Bobbi ignored the remark and took a sip of the bitter coffee. She swallowed and took a bite of the cookie to remove the taste.
"Wanta chew the fat some, honey? You can bring your coffee in the other room if you like."
"I'd like to," she said, "but I'm afraid I'm too tired to think straight. Maybe we could postpone it until breakfast."
"What you need is a good stiff drink, but I ain't got a drop in the place."
"Thanks, but I don't drink much. A good night's sleep is what I really need."
"All right, sweet baby," Mom said, putting her arm around her shoulder. "You go on to bed. As for me, I need a quick one to put me asleep. If I hurry I can beat the Royal Flush closing."
When her mother left the apartment Bobbi went to her room and closed the door. She threw herself on the bed and started to cry. She was ashamed of herself, but it didn't help. The tears lasted until she fell asleep.
Bobbi's sleep came to an abrupt halt. She sat up in the bed and looked around the strange room. The light over the bed was still burning, and she hadn't undressed. A glance at her watch showed it was four o'clock. She wearily removed her silk shirtwaist dress and put it over the straight chair near the table. When her underclothes were off she began looking for her pajamas, but they weren't among the things in her room. She assumed they must still be in the suitcase in her mother's room.
She remembered that one suitcase was left open near her mother's bedroom door. She thought she could get her pajamas without waking her.
Her mother's room was directly across from Bobbi's, with the bathroom between. Bobbi quietly opened her door and saw that her mother's light was still on. She stepped across the hall and saw her mother's bed through the open door. Bobbi froze in her stride. Her mother wasn't alone. Panic swept over her as she watched her naked mother writhe beneath a lover. She couldn't seem to retreat from the scene. The man possessing her mother was fat and hairy. Her mother's fingers were digging into the soft flesh of his back. Bobbi finally managed to return to the sanctity of her own room. She switched out the light and crawled under the bed covers. She covered her head with her pillow.
It was ugly. It was horrible. Her own mother. Now in a painful stab of reality, Bobbi knew why her father had kept her mother's existence a secret. She should have trusted his judgment, but she was so alone. She had found her mother's address among some papers after her father's death. When the court authorities told her she would have to remain in a court appointed home until she was eighteen she asked them to try to locate her mother. They tracked her down finally and she agreed to take Bobbi in. Bobbi then corresponded with her mother telling her everything. Her hope was that her mother would let her keep her baby. Her mother refused this request. Now she could see why. The place wasn't fit for any human being, let alone an innocent baby. Now it was a matter of getting out herself. She didn't want to stay in this den of hell a moment longer than was necessary.
Then the urgency of the matter became acute. Why wait at all. Why not pack a few necessities now and slip out when her mother was asleep. She got out of bed and picked up the suitcase, but at the same moment her bedroom door opened. Her mother and her friend came into the room. Both were still naked. Then she realized she was naked too. In a desperate move she grabbed her dress from the chair, and held it in front of her body. "What do you want here? You have no right to burst in like this."
Her mother ambled across the room toward her. "Now, now, sweet lamb, don't get sore. We just thought we heard you is all."
The woman tried to put an arm around Bobbi's shoulder, but Bobbi pulled way. Then she realized that by moving, her back was exposed to the fat, smiling man at the door. "Get out of here, both of you," Bobbi cried. "What kind of woman are you anyway? I've never known anyone like you!"
"Well I like that!" her mother said, thrusting her fists on her scrawny hips. "After all, young lady, this is my house you're in now. Guess that high n' mighty old man of yours filled you with a bunch of fancy ideas. Well, never fear, we'll take some of that stuff outa you.
"I'm leaving here," Bobbi said. "I don't even want to spend a night in this place."
Her mother looked at Bobbi, shrugged, and turned to her friend. "Is that gratitude for you, Tony? Wouldn't you just know it?"
"Aw, the little doll's just tired," he grinned, showing the gold of his front teeth. "She'll feel different in the morning."
As Tony spoke Bobbi's mother crossed to the dresser. She lifted Bobbi's green leather billfold from the top. She looked inside. "Wow! Get a load of this, Tony," she said, fanning through the bills.
Bobbi lunged for the billfold, letting her dress slip from her grip. She struggled for the money. "That is every cent I have in the world! It came from selling Dad's furniture and you aren't getting it."
Her mother yanked it away and held it behind her back. Tony lunged at Bobbi. He wrapped an arm around her stomach and used his other hand to palm Bobbi's right breast. He gave forth with a wheezing laugh. "I'll hold her off all night, Ethel. I like this job."
His lower arm loosened its grip, and he moved his hand to her lower stomach. Bobbi turned around and drove a fist into Tony's face. When the blow didn't faze him she dug her fingernails into his bloated cheeks. Tony cried out with pain and threw her onto the bed. He pounced over her and began hitting her body with vicious blows. Bobbi covered her face, but the barrage of blows pounded over her body. Her breast throbbed with pain.
"All right, Tony," she heard her mother say. "She's learned her lesson."
"I'll kill the little bitch," he shouted. "Nobody does that to Tony Breck."
"Please, Tony," said her mother. "She'll be nice to have around. Get what I mean? Don't damage the merchandise."
Bobbi heard his wheezing move to the edge of the room. Then the door closed. When Bobbi looked up she heard a key turn in the lock. She was trapped. She was being held prisoner by her own mother. She wasn't sure what the purpose would be, but she had an idea.
Her body ached from the blows she had taken. She pushed herself to her feet and looked into the mirror over the dresser. She brought her hands up to her reddened breasts and tried to massage the ache from them. When she held them tight the pain seemed to lessen. She sat on the bed and continued to cup the soft, throbbing globes in her hands.
CHAPTER THREE
Douglas King was awake by eight o'clock. The sun reached through the broken slats of the shutters to give bright promise for the new day, but the promise was not kept. It never was. Douglas's nightmares came by day. His frightening phantasms were molded from rays of sunshine, from the songs of birds, or from the sounds of children's laughter. His only solace came by night. His night began when his mother was asleep.
He slipped over the side of the old fashioned fourposter bed. He had an hour before roll call. He pulled on some slacks and a shirt and opened the window to the east. From the window he could see boats crossing the horizon, but this window seldom captured views of people. This was his favorite place in the house.
The cape was lost to the haze of the day, and no boats were to be seen. Consequently he would use this hour for reading. He scanned his row of books. Two walls were lined from top to bottom with his favorite authors. Many of the books had been in his father's library before the downstairs had been closed off. Others he had bought himself. He selected a volume of Emerson and took it to the window seat of the east window.
Emerson usually soothed him, and fed his brain with much needed exercise, but on this morning extraneous thoughts were the more demanding. He rested the book on his knees and gazed outside. The girl ... that beautiful, blond haired girl. Why was she moving into 37 Marine Street? What would this beautiful, bright faced, intelligent looking girl be doing right now? Could she be a recruit of Tony Breck's? Could she be a prostitute? He had seen her arrive there the night before and he still couldn't figure it out.
Many juvenile journeys into first sex were experienced in this house on Marine Street. Many drunken derelicts took their turns as well. In fact, just about every man who had a need for sex along with a ten dollar bill knew the house very well. Doug knew it, but not from personal experience. All of Doug's knowledge of local affairs came from overheard conversations. This was how he learned of the town's prostitute. He sat on the beach one night near a group of young people. Their discussion described the happenings in the house over the grocery store. He then went to observe the activity firsthand. He sat under a tree at the end of the street. During a few hours on a Saturday night he had counted fourteen different men enter and leave the house. One night during the summer season he had seen as many as thirty climb the stairs in a single evening, but Ethel had a helper on that occasion. A fairly good looking girl came to help out with the tourist trade. He wondered if that was why the blonde had arrived. If so, she might stay a while, or she might end up washed up on the beach like the other girl. Doug figured it might have been because she wanted to quit. Her body was found near Stanton's Cove, after being in the water for several days. Even though she was decomposed the autopsy showed that she had been beaten. He hoped this wouldn't happen to the blonde. She was much too pretty for such a fate. Maybe he should warn her somehow.
If old Breck decided he wanted her, getting away wouldn't be easy. Breck usually got what he wanted. Breck saw to it that Ethel wasn't bothered in her operation. If some of the citizens objected they didn't say so. They knew better. They didn't complain about the gambling that he permitted in the summer either; they didn't dare. Tony ran the town. He was only the chief of police, but his authority went beyond that. He represented the woman who owned seventy percent of the property within the city limits. In another year the percentage would be even higher, because the woman always bought up every piece of property that was offered for sale. One way or another she did it. Of course she had no idea of Breck's illegal activities, but who was going to tell her? Doug wasn't, that was for sure, and he was her son. No, he wouldn't say a word. She wouldn't believe him anyway. He would live with the local conditions the same as everybody else. But not quite the same. He would hide from the hatred of the town people during the day and secretly mingle with them at night. Sometimes just sitting near a group of happy young people would give him a vicarious feeling of camaraderie. That was why he lived for the summers. When he was among strangers they could see him without making remarks or getting up and moving. They didn't know him. As far as the locals were concerned there wasn't one of them he could call a friend.
Possibly in the blonde there might be a chance. If she stayed there she would be even more of a pariah than he. There would be a common ground for them to build a friendship. In one way, he hoped she'd stay for a while. In another, he hoped she would pack up and get away. Tonight he would wait on the beach near Marine Street to see what happened.
He noticed suddenly that it was nine o'clock. He rushed to the room in the front of the house where his mother would have breakfast prepared. The last time he was late she strapped his bare behind with a razor strap. He didn't want to run that risk again. It was too humiliating.
"Good morning, Mother," he said, entering the grimy little room.
Her back was to the door as she scooped up a monstrous helping of oatmeal. "Sit down and drink your milk," she ordered.
He sighed and sat at the far side of the kitchen table. He sipped the skim milk, hoping she wouldn't insist that he drink it all. She turned to the table and placed the bowl of cereal before him. "You will eat every bite," she announced.
Mrs. King was a huge woman. Her hair was white and she wore it drawn back into a severe bun. Her blouse was heavily starched and her skirts fell to within an inch of the floor. Doug thought she looked exactly like her own grandmother whose image he had seen on a tintype in her photo album.
She brought a piece of plain white bread to the table along with a pot of tea, and sat opposite him. "Last night," she said coldly, "I came to your room."
Doug felt a sudden sweep of fear. Had she found his bed empty? He stopped a spoonful of oatmeal mid way to his mouth.
"You were in bed reading when you should have been praying."
Doug felt a little relieved. "I didn't forget, Mother. Maybe I had finished already."
She was pouring tea into a cup, but stopped, and stared into his eyes. Her piercing eyes made him wince. "You are to pray audibly for one hour before retiring. Now I know what happens when I leave you to your honor. Not that you possess the virtue of honor. I should have known that you can't be trusted. I have to stand over you with a stick for the simplest considerations. You are evil, Douglas. You proved it to me once before, and you are showing signs of wavering again." She pointed a finger into his face. "You will pray before me, in my room, for two hours tonight. You will beg forgiveness for your transgressions. You will confess your every sin to me. Then, together, we will pray for deliverance."
Douglas was physically ill at the thought. He knew that she was off on one of her tangents, and there would be no peace today. He would have to make up sins to confess, and she would stand in judgment. If he had none to offer she wouldn't believe him, and would surely get the strap. If he dreamed up a too serious sin, she would punish him for that. He prayed all right. He prayed right now. He prayed that she would forget her plan. There had been times when she did.
She swallowed some tea, but studied him all the while. "Why," she said finally, "was I cursed with such a wicked child? Your father was a saint!" She pounded her fist on the table. "A saint ... do you hear!"
"Yes, Mother."
"Pie was a fine, upright citizen who was loved by everyone ... and look at you. What are you? I'll tell you exactly what you are. You are a wicked, spineless nothing. You've failed in every endeavor and you will be a failure for the rest of your meaningless life."
"Yes, Mother."
"You thought you were pretty clever when you robbed me and ran away, didn't you? Answer me!"
"Yes."
"How far did you get? Tell me that, boy! Exactly how far did you get?"
"To Boston."
"What did I do to you for stealing from me?"
"You turned me over to the police, Mother. The police sent me away to reform school for three months ... and damn it, I'm sick of hearing about it! Can't you let me alone for a minute?"
He shouldn't have done-that. He should have taken her abuse and perhaps in a few minutes she would have gotten over it, but it was too late now. Doug saw the whiteness come to her taut lips as she rose from the table. She thrust her arm toward the door. "Get the strap!" she commanded.
CHAPTER FOUR
Around noon Bobbi heard her bedroom door open for the first time. When her mother greeted her from the door, Bobbi feigned sleep. She didn't want to speak to her mother. She wanted only to plan her escape. If she could do it without uttering a single word to her mother so much the better.
Bobbi couldn't fake sleep any longer, but said as little as possible in reaction to her mother's periodical messages. Each time she returned to the room she gave warnings about the futility of attempting to escape. She took the stand that since she had been given custody of Bobbi it was her duty to see that she had the proper care. Bobbi felt her temper rise, but she bit her lip in restraint.
Bobbi learned from the periodical bulletins slurred out by her mother that she needn't expect help from the police. As unbelievable as it seemed, she was told that Tony Breck was the police in King's Cove. Her mother assured her that she would not get her money back either.
What could she do? Where could she turn? She couldn't return to Mrs. Bernstein. Her next door neighbor had been kind enough to take her in after her father died, but she couldn't go there now. She would have to have a reason for returning to a town where she had no relatives. If she told authorities what happened she would have to prove it. With Tony being the chief of police in King's Cove what chance would she have?
If she only had a friend to turn to. Someone to give her advice. But who would that be? She had nobody. Right now she had to work on her mother. She would have to pretend that her mother had reached her with her threats. She couldn't be obvious about it either. Her mother would never believe her if she did a complete about-face, but perhaps if she were very careful she could convince her mother that she was resigned to defeat. Then she might at least be trusted with clothing. That would be a step in the right direction.
Bobbi watched her mother gulp down her fourth tumbler of whisky in less than an hour. She was well on the way again. Bobbi didn't look forward to her mother's drunkenness, but it could be a break for her side. "If I did decide to stay with you," said Bobbi, "what would you do with me?"
"There's no need to go into that now, honey," said her mother. "For the next month or so we'll just kinda get acquainted with one another. You know ... we'll get ourselves used to the mother-daughter stuff."
Ethel sat beside her on the bed. Bobbi held the bedspread over her breasts. "What would happen after the month was up?"
"You just leave that to your old ma. By that time, I just know everything'll work out."
Bobbi watched her mother's hand reach out to touch her leg. It was as though she was watching a spider settle down on the sheet, but she couldn't show her distaste. She was playing a part. It had to be good. "Well, I really have no other place to go," Bobbi said.
"Now you're talkin', baby. You wait 'n see. You'n I'll be gettin' along jus dandy before long."
"I'll try ... but I don't want your friend Tony to touch me again ... and I prefer to stay away from your friends. Your life is your business, and I don't want you to try to make me a part of it."
"I think that's real fair of you, honey. I'll see that Tony keeps his hands off you."
"Then too," said Bobbi, "I believe I should get a job. There must be something I can do when the summer season begins."
"Forget the job, honey," said her mother. "When the season starts, I'll show you more money than you can shake a snake at. It comes easy and fast. Off season things ain't too lively, but the summers make up for it. Your showing up with your little nest egg will get us by nice."
"I saw a dance pavillion as I rode in the taxi. Maybe I could go there and see if they need a ticket clerk or something."
"Look, honeykins, I'd be a regular wreck every night worrying about you if you did that. You better forget the work idea."
Bobbi didn't press further. It wasn't her plan anyway. She simply wanted to let her mother think she had ideas of staying in King's Cove. If her mother thought she would stay put until then she might give her some liberties now. "We'll talk about it later, mother."
"Sure, baby. Let's do that little thing," she said as she looked at her empty glass. "Tell you what, you can do me a little favor. Get dressed and go down to the Royal Flush and get me a fresh bottle."
Obviously her mother was beginning to trust her. She left the room and returned with a pair of Bobbi's capri pants and a blouse. She tossed them on the bed. Ethel looked into the wallet she had confiscated the night before. She brought out a ten dollar bill as Bobbi pulled on the tight fitting pants.
Bobbi hoped to have her body completely covered by the time her mother looked again, but when she tried to snap her bra she had to wince with pain.
"Do you still hurt from Tony's beating?" she asked sympathetically. "I almost hit Tony myself when I saw him hit you there. Men don't seem to understand about them things."
"I'll be all right," Bobbi assured.
"Is your face sore?" her mother said, moving her to the light. "I figured you were good for at least a shiner."
Bobbi had also, but upon awakening she found only a slight bruise above her right brow. Her cheek was a little swollen, but it didn't show much. She pulled away from her mother to slip into the blouse. She then accepted the money.
Bobbi knew this wouldn't be the time to try escaping. Her mother had probably deliberately set up the errand as a test. She walked down the stairs, past the grocery, and on to the bar.
When Bobbi entered the darkened bar the smell almost overwhelmed her. Perhaps it was from beer and smoke mixed with cooking odors. Or perhaps it was from the rest rooms. She only knew she didn't want to linger in it. Several scrubby looking men stopped their conversation upon her entrance. The bartender stopped the dice game at the other end of the bar to come her way.
When he was opposite her, Bobbi saw that he was rather young. He had reddish hair and freckles. When he parted his lips in a smile, Bobbi saw that he had a mass of irregular teeth.
"Bet I know who you are," he said, letting his eyes linger over her curves. "You're Ethel Razzner's kid."
Bobbi looked away. "She wants a bottle. She said you would know what kind."
"Where's the money?"
Bobbi handed him the ten dollar bill. He looked at it, shrugged, and took a bottle from the shelf. He brought a wrinkled brown bag from under the counter and put the bottle into it. "Don't tell nobody where this come from. I only sell it this way to very special customers."
Bobbi stayed where she was only because she expected change. She finally had to ask him for it. "Tell Ethel if she's too lazy to go to the liquor store she can pay for the special service, but you ... now that's something else again. How about having a little snifter on me?"
Bobbi shook her head and started for the door. "Guess I'll be seeing you at the party tonight," the bartender called out.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bobbi was curious enough to ask what he was talking about, but she changed her mind. What she wanted more than anything else at this moment was fresh air. She left the bar and headed back. She saw Ethel standing on the balcony watching her.
Bobbi presented the bottle to her mother and followed her into the kitchen. Her mother broke the seal and poured a drink. "Want a belt, honey?" she asked.
"No, thanks. Why did that man at the bar say he would see me at a party tonight?"
Her mother swallowed the bourbon straight and made a face as it burned its way down. "It's Gus's night off. Him and some of the gang are gonna stop by. It'll be kind of a welcome home party for you, lamby."
"I thought you agreed to keep me out of your personal affairs."
"These party plans were made before our little talk, but don't worry about Gus. He's a swell guy. Kinda thought you two might hit it off. He makes good tips there at the Royal Flush. Treat him nice and he'll take good care of you."
"I don't want him to take good care of me, and I want you to leave me out of your little party."
Ethel put a hand on Bobbi's shoulder. "Look, sweetykins, just for the hell of it, couldn't you call me Ethel? Oh, I don't plan to kid a pal like Gus. He knows you're my kid, and so does Tony, but as far as anybody else goes, I'd just as soon ... you know what I mean. Maybe we could kind of pass ourselves off as sisters. Wouldn't that be kind of fun?"
At first Bobbi thought her mother was kidding. Could she really think they looked close to the same age? She welcomed being spared calling her mother. "All right, Ethel," said Bobbi, "you tell your friends anything you wish, but I still don't want any part of them. They just aren't my kind of people."
"Now hold on a sec, young lady," said Ethel indignantly. "Let's not get so high 'n mighty. Just what kind of fancy Dan gave you that bastard kid? Don't be actin' like you're something special."
Bobbi stopped before she stirred up another fight. Ethel sat at the kitchen table mumbling about the nerve of some young people she knew while Bobbi prepared a can of tomato soup. She wasn't hungry, but she knew she had to eat something to keep up her strength. The soup was the first food she had had all day.
After lunch Bobbi set out to clean up the sink full of dirty dishes. She couldn't turn her back on the mess. She had to clean it up.
"That's a good l'il ole darlin," Ethel said when the job was completed. She rose from the kitchen table and staggered to Bobbi's side. Bobbi was disgusted by her mother's drunkenness, but hoped she would drink enough to pass out. Then she might be able to slip out, catch a train, and leave King's Cove far behind. If Ethel passed out she could even get her money back. Then her problems would be solved.
"Maybe I will join you in a little drink, Ethel," Bobbi said.
"Now you're talkin', kid," said her mother, trying to wink. She went back to the table and poured two tumblers full of whisky. She handed one to Bobbi. "Bottoms up, baby doll," she toasted.
Bobbi gulped down the contents of the glass until she got to the last big swallow. She held it in her mouth. It was horrible. She couldn't swallow it. This was the first time she had tasted straight whisky. She didn't know what she expected it to be like, but this was impossible.
"Swallow it, hon," said her mother. "Then get some water for a wash. I wondered if you knew how to drink straight."
Bobbi swallowed it. A feeling of nausea rose immediately. She drank some water and leaned over the sink. After a few minutes the water quelled the nausea.
"Mix the next one with some water, honey. Drinkin' straight takes practice."
"I think I'd better lie down," said Bobbi, crossing to her room.
Once inside she collapsed on her bed, and felt the room begin to spin around. Could she be drunk? On a single glass of liquor? She would rest for a minute, and then when her mother passed out she would go through with her plan. It couldn't take long for her mother to go. Nobody could drink that much and stay on her feet.
With the sudden sound of her mother's voice Bobbi realized she had been asleep. She raised to an elbow to see her mother standing in the doorway. The dress she was wearing was one of Bobbi's favorites.
Ethel spun around in an awkward pirouette. "Do I look like Loretta Young, honey?"
"That's ... that's my best dress," Bobbi protested weakly.
"You'll never know it was worn. Tell you what ... we'll trade tit for tat, if you'll pardon the expression. You can help yourself to any dress in my wardrobe. How's that sound?"
Ethel flitted out of the room. "Don't you want to fancy up for the boys? They'll be along any minute now," she called back.
Bobbi felt like tearing the dress from her mother's back, but she didn't. She did nothing at all as she lay back down on the bed. She had planned to sneak out of the house while her mother was passed out, and through her own stupidity she had been the one to pass out. As far as she could see her mother looked f like she had just returned from a week at a health spa. Bobbi was completely bewildered.
Soon the boys arrived. Bobbi heard the knock on the door and the noisy greetings when they were let in. She heard the voice of Tony Breck say, "Hi ya, Ethel. What're you made up for, Halloween?"
"Don't be such a kidder, Tony," she replied coyly. "Hi, Gus, you handsome devil. Who's the chick?"
"Hi, Ethel," said Gus. "This here's Flo. She came in the bar today. Looking for a summer job. Figgered you might give her a lead."
"Could be," said Ethel. "Just might do that little thing."
Bobbi listened from her room. She would have to go out and face them. They would make sure they did, but she would put it off as long as she could. She heard the clinking of glasses and crude remarks being passed back and forth. Bobbi didn't know what kind of person this Flo was, but perhaps it was lucky for her the girl happened along. It might take the spotlight off her.
When she heard Gus ask where she was, she decided she might just as well go in and get it over.
"There she is," Gus greeted from the couch across the room. He was sitting beside a tiny, dark haired girl who looked to be in her early teens.
Tony came out of the kitchen. He was wearing blue trousers with handcuffs hanging from his belt. His light blue shirt was open at the collar with his tie loosened. His shirt showed the sweaty outline of his uniform blouse. "Hello there, princess. You ain't still sore, are you?" He put his arm around her shoulder.
Bobbi forced a brief smile and went to the chair in the comer. Ethel followed her over and handed her a drink. "Here, honey, this is vodka, and it has lots of mix. You'll like it."
Gus commented on her skin tight capri pants, and Tony said he should see what was underneath them. Everyone but Bobbi laughed. She studied her drink. Every now and then Bobbi glanced at the girl beside Gus. She was sitting quietly sipping her drink. Bobbi began to wonder if she too was a misfit in this crowd. She almost began to worry about her.
Tony found some brassy music on the radio and kicked back the throw rug which covered the center of the living room linoleum. He pulled Ethel into his arms and went into a comedy dance routine. Bobbi didn't think it was very funny. The girl with Gus snickered a little as she finished her drink. Gus took her empty glass to the kitchen to refill it while the music changed to a Latin tempo. Tony swung Ethel into an awkward tango step. He did the bumps and grinds, making his fat hips and stomach quiver. Each time he did the forward walking step he placed his hands on another part of Ethel's body.
Gus brought the drink back to Flo and put it on the floor beside the couch. He helped her to her feet. The girl fell close against Gus's body and let him lead her into a dance.
Bobbi felt like a fool sitting in the comer watching. Before the music ended she felt more like a peeping torn. If only she could sneak way. Sooner or later they would get around to her. She looked once more at the drink and suddenly decided to drink it. She had already been sick on liquor once, but her courage needed bolstering. She sipped the mixture and was surprised at its pleasant taste. She gulped down the rest.
The music came to a stop and the disc jockey went into a commercial. Gus brought Flo back to the couch and they both took gulps of their fresh drinks. Bobbi could see that Flo was beginning to loosen up a bit. Her smile was a bit more confident, for one thing. Gus put his arm around her shoulder and she didn't pull away. She even let her head fall against his shoulder.
Ethel and Tony were standing next to Bobbi's chair. "Better watch out hon," Ethel told Bobbi, "you better get to work or you'll lose Gus."
Tony said, "But you still have me, princess."
Their attention was attracted to the couch once more. Gus was kissing Flo. His hand openly kneaded her breast while the kiss progressed. Bobbi was shocked. Even more than when she saw her mother and Tony. She sensed something base and ugly in her mother even though she hadn't admitted it to herself. But this girl seemed like a pretty nice kid. She couldn't understand why a clean cut girl would let a man like Gus even dance with her, let alone kiss her and feel of her. She felt a slight tremor of panic as she realized how rapidly the party was approaching orgy levels.
"Okay, break it up," said Tony. Bobbi wondered if he really meant it, but saw then that he was kidding. Gus moved back, but continued to hold the girl's breast. Flo had a silly expression on her face, but it wasn't of self-consciousness.
Bobbi could tell that Ethel was getting loaded again by the way her speech was beginning to slur. Obvious ly her mother slipped in and out of drunkenness as regularly as she slipped in and out of bed. Ethel commented on Flo's friendliness and said she "would do fine in King's Cove this summer. "She's kinda little though," she said, appraising the slender girl's form. "They'll think we got babies working here."
That struck Tony funny and he wheezed out a laugh. "Anything would look like a baby beside you," he teased.
Gus stuck up for Flo. He said she was very well endowed. Flo was wearing a white cardigan sweater and blue skirt. To prove his point Gus unbuttoned the top buttons of the sweater and probed inside. He parted the sweater and exposed Flo's breasts for the onlookers. "See," said Gus, with Flo looking on proudly. "A damn nice handful."
Bobbi blinked in disbelief as Tony moved to the couch and knelt on the floor in front of Flo. "Yeah, damn nice." He put his stubby fingers across the breast, and moved his face forward. Bobbi started to rise, but her mother's hand came down on her shoulder. "Stay put," she commanded.
Bobbi watched as though hypnotized as the two men worked over Flo. Since Bobbi was forced to sit there, she even tried analyzing her feelings. It reminded her of a horror movie. The movie reaches a point when you know something horrible will happen, but as much as you hate to see it happen, you have to watch. She did watch; sometimes from out of the comers of her eyes, but she watched in hideous fascination. She watched as Tony and Gus stripped Flo of all her clothes. As it was being done Flo kept her eyes closed as if that made everything all right. When she was naked, Flo opened her eyes and looked at the audience. "Say, am I the only one naked?" Her voice was squeaky and child-like. These were the first words Bobbi had heard her say.
"Stand up and show us yourself," said Tony, breathing tremulously.
Flo shrugged and rose from the couch. She gave Ethel a defiant look as she turned around, exposing herself. Bobbi couldn't help but notice that she had a lovely figure. She was tiny, but her proportions were perfect.
Gus stood up and balanced the girl's round, firm breasts in his palms. "Nice young do-dads...." His hands dropped to her buttocks. "Nice firm butt ... what am I bid for this lovely young treasure of youth?"
"If I was the paying kind," said Tony with breathing difficulty, "I'd go at least fifty. Ethel, we'll make a fortune this summer."
Ethel seemed less impressed than the others. Bobbi could tell she didn't appreciate a stranger getting this much attention. "She'll bring ten, but no more," she said. Then she turned to Bobbi. "Now here's what the tourists'll want. Not only is my l'il doll baby young, but she's got better 'n bigger curves. If she ain't got a 38 inch bust I'll switch to ice water."
Flo looked at Bobbi jealously, with fists on hips. "You got to know what men want. She looks like a girl scout to me."
"I'll join her troop any day," Gus announced, making a move toward Bobbi. Tony walked to the other side of the chair. They exchanged a brief glance, and then moved fast to encage Bobbi in their arms.
Bobbi had seen it coming, but she was still frozen by fear. This was probably planned exactly as it happened. There was no doubt in her mind now as to what her fate would be. They planned to break her in. They would take turns as Tom and Paul had that time with Vi. Just as rough hands began to cover her stiffened body a loud knock was heard at the door.
Gus and Tony looked at each other. Flo sat down on the couch and pulled her skirt in front of her. Ethel looked to Tony for instructions. He went to the door and opened it just enough to look outside.
"Who's there?" he said into the darkness. "Why ... what do you want here?"
Tony backed up as the door opened wider. A handsome, dark haired young man casually walked into the room.
"What did you let him in for, Tony?" Ethel questioned.
The lad who was dressed in denims looked around the room until his eyes fell on Bobbi. He smiled. "Ready to take that walk?" he asked.
Bobbi couldn't believe what was happening. She stood up and started toward the door.
Tony frowned. "Your old lady will skin you, Douglas. I don't know what you've got in mind, but you'd better beat it before I run you in."
The young man laughed, showing perfect white teeth. "You aren't that stupid, Tony," he said confidently. "If I open my mouth to my mother, you've had it. Let's play ball, okay? I take the young lady for a walk, and you mind your own rotten business."
Tony's face turned red with anger. He stepped to within a stride of Bobbi and Douglas. "Are you threatening me?"
"I'm telling you to lay off the girl."
Tony was indecisive in his movements. He had only to reach out and Douglas would be at his mercy. He stood firm instead. "You been doing some prowling, kid? I sometimes wonder what your mother would say if she knew about your window peeping."
"I don't window peep for kicks, Tony. I won't deny, however, that I've seen you behind some very interesting windows."
Douglas looked once more at Ethel, then at the frightened girl on the couch. "Looks like a real nice party you're not going to. Too bad we'll have to miss it." He took Bobbi through the open door and closed it behind her.
He walked Bobbi to the edge of the balcony near the steps. The living room window was open. He patted her arm amd motioned for silence as he drew closer to the window. They heard Ethel say, "Are you crazy, Tony? You let him walk right out of here with Bobbi."
"Shut up, you freak," said Tony. "You know who the kid is? Maybe he knows something."
"That creepy punk?" said Gus. "Everybody in town knows he's a little wacky. Just walks around by himself all the time; never talking to nobody but himself. What could a loony like him know?"
"He may act a little loony, but you don't know him.
He's a brain. He's a damned dangerous brain." It was Tony speaking again. "I've been worrying about that kid for a long time. He's gotta be taken care of...."
Then there was an abrupt change of subject. They must have remembered Flo. Her squeaky voice said, "I better get dressed. I don't want any trouble."
"Now, now," Gus reassured. "Don't worry about anything, sweetness. You stay just as you are and we'll have ourselves a nice time ... just the four of us. We're better off without little miss girl scout anyway."
CHAPTER SIX
Douglas led Bobbi around the guard rail at the Marine Street dead end. She followed him down the trail to the beach. They walked through the sand for a long time without speaking. Finally Bobbi said, "I don't know you, but thanks."
"How do you know you aren't-getting into something worse?" he said.
Bobbi didn't know what he had in mind, but she did know he couldn't cause greater problems than those she had left behind in the apartment. Even if he raped her then and there she would still be ahead. At least he was clean and decent looking. "I'm not worried," she said. "How did you happen to show up?"
He stopped and picked up a stone and sent it skipping into the rolling waves. Now that her eyes were accustomed to the moonlight, Bobbi could see him fairly well. But the light wasn't bright enough to read the expression on his face.
T happened to be around last night when you showed up in the cab," he finally explained. "A cab at midnight this time of year isn't a very common sight. I particularly noticed you because you didn't seem to fit in at 37 Marine Street. I'm glad I checked you out again tonight."
"So am I," she said. "My name's Bobbi Sargent. Ethel is my mother."
"Your mother!" He stopped where he was. He had seemed very worldly and grown up until now, but with this exclamation his voice lifted an octave. "God ... I didn't know that!"
"It's true," she said. "But I didn't know what she was like. I hadn't met her before." She gave him a brief outline of her story, omitting certain details.
When she finished he regained his composure. He said he had been sure she was being taken advantage of, and after hearing her story he was relieved that his first judgment had been correct.
"Who are you? I mean, why is Tony afraid of you?"
"I didn't know for sure that he was," Douglas said. "But he knows I kind of sneak around a lot. He also knows that I don't talk much. Otherwise he'd have been in trouble with my mother a long time ago. I guess he couldn't afford to take a chance. Now that I know where I stand, I'll use my power. You can be sure of that."
The last part of his remark had been delivered with a laugh and Bobbi was glad to feel lightness move into their somber scene. "Who is your mother?" Bobbi asked. "I mean is she important in King's Cove?"
Again Douglas laughed. "Important? My dear ... my mother is King's Cove. I'm sorry ... my name's Doug King. I should have introduced myself. I keep forgetting you're a stranger in town. If you'd ever been here before you'd know about my mother ... and about me. You see, I'm the town creep. That's my image and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Bobbi couldn't think of anything to say. He sounded bitter, and she didn't think she should probe further. A bit later he stopped walking and turned to her. "One favor," he said. "Don't ever call me Douglas ... call me Doug or Dougie or even crapface, but only my enemies call me Douglas."
"Okay," she said. "I'll remember."
When they were some distance from the lights of the town, Doug directed Bobbi to a rock and they sat down. Silence held for a long time. Bobbi was intrigued by her young, handsome rescuer, but she would wait for him to open up. Somehow he didn't seem like a creep or a loony to her. She had an idea he was about as loony as she was. She felt comfortable and secure with him. She had a feeling they would uncover much common ground between them before they were through. "I don't think you're any of those awful things," she said finally. "I like you, Doug."
He didn't reply and the silence held again, but it was fine. It was peaceful here on the beach and she didn't feel the necessity to keep the air filled with meaningless conversation. He obviously enjoyed the quiet and she would honor his choice.
But as the roar of the surf closed out her present thoughts, Bobbi let her mind be nagged by a negative revelation. She returned to her mother's apartment and to her own behavior there a short time ago. She hadn't done anything overt, but she was really a part of all of it, wasn't she? She now had to admit a curious fascination with the sensual happenings. She had actually been aroused by the vulgar behavior. She felt an awakening take place in herself as her unsavory chums prepared for their sex orgy. She wondered where her stimulation would have led if Doug hadn't come along. She was afraid to speculate. Maybe she was no better than the others. Like mother ... like daughter?
"Come on," Doug said, suddenly bounding to his feet. "Want to show you something."
She let him take her hand and she followed his path that led to rows of magnificent houses set around a lush marina. They soon came to a pier, and, without conversation, they proceeded to a boathouse in a long line with many others.
"This is my hideaway," he said, taking out a key. He unlocked the door and Bobbi followed him into the interior darkness.
"Be careful," he said, "there's a drop."
Bobbi waited in the darkness as Doug reached along a shelf near the door. He brought down a flashlight. In the beam from the light, Bobbi saw a yellow cabin cruiser. "It's beautiful," she said.
"Sleeps six," Doug said. "But it isn't mine. Belongs to a friend. I kind of look after it while he's away for the winter."
"Do you live near here?" she asked.
Doug jumped into the boat and helped Bobbi. He opened the hatch and escorted her to the cabin below.
He turned on a small lantern which bathed the beautiful mahogany paneling in pinkish lights. Bobbi drew in a breath. "I've never seen anything this beautiful."
He smiled as he sat on one of the built-in bunks. Bobbi sat beside him. "You asked where I live. Have you seen the haunted house on top of the hill?"
"Haunted house?"
"That's what it's called. That's where I live. You can see the place for miles in all directions. They tell me it was quite a place before it died."
Bobbi was puzzled. "I don't know what you mean."
"It's a long story."
Bobbi had time and the interest. She asked Doug to tell her his long story. It would be good for her to listen to someone else's story for a change. He let it unfold slowly. He started at the time of his father's death. That had been when Doug was only three. He supposed the change in his mother had been gradual, but he couldn't recall a single kind word in the big yellow house on the hill. Something seemed to die in his mother when his father left. It was as though he had taken all her love to his grave with him, leaving nothing behind. Doug had been a virtual prisoner in the house for fifteen years. Ten of those were spent mourning his father's death, with his black clothed mother. Only recently had she allowed herself to wear a color other than black. Then the clothing she chose was of the most austere style. Doug had never seen the inside of a public school. He said he had been educated by tutors who came to the house. He had never had a playmate. He hadn't known the taste of a chocolate soda until he was eighteen years old.
"How old are you now, Doug?"
"I'll be twenty in a few months."
Bobbi hadn't formed a conclusion to Doug's age. He wasn't big, but he had the carriage of maturity. His eyes showed wisdom and experience. This was strange, she thought. He obviously hadn't had the opportunity to get around much. He was as handsome a young man as she had ever seen. He had curly, unkempt black hair, transparent blue eyes, and a sensitive smile. She liked what she saw in Doug King.
"Didn't you go out to high school?" she asked.
"No. Tutors. I stayed right there on the hill until ... I went away to college."
"Then she finally did let you out of the house?"
"It was a school she approved of. Real strict place. A military school. You could say it was almost like a prison."
"Then she's strict, even now?"
"She's worse than ever now. She senses that she might be losing her hold on me, and it's killing her. She likes to grind all of her possessions to bits, and I'm falling out of her grasp. I often think of my mother as some kind of vampire. I hate her."
"Maybe she's actually more to be pitied."
"Yeah, sure," he said cynically.
"She sounds like she might be kind of neurotic," reasoned Bobbi.
"You're right, of course. In theory, at least, but my involvement makes my view too subjective for pity. She's a cruel, bigoted old bitch, and I hate her rotten guts." I see.
"I suppose you pity your mother."
"Yes ... I suppose I do. I don't think I hate her. Of course if I had to put up with her all those years...."
"It's been hell ... that's what it's like," Doug said evenly. "But there are all kinds of hell. You are headed for a hell of your own if you don't get away from your mother and Breck."
"Maybe we should try talking about something pleasant," she suggested, taking his hands in hers.
He looked at her and smiled. "Sorry I blew my stack," he said. "You're beautiful, Bobbi."
"Thanks, Doug. Maybe somehow we can help each other."
Doug looked into Bobbi's smiling face. His lip quivered slightly as he looked down again. Bobbi used her fingers to lift his lips to hers. When the lips made contact the world became a rocket. Doug threw his arms around her and held her close to him. Bobbi wanted the embrace to last forever.
Bobbi felt Doug's muscular, throbbing body against hers and a strange intoxication swelled through her veins. She had had her moments of passion in the past, but it wasn't like this. She was willing to accept the surging impetus that demanded control of her will. The mysterious fever possessed her, setting fire to a million nerves in her awakened body.
Doug clung to her, trembling. Their upright forms eased gradually over until they lay side by side. Bobbi thrust her body forward against Doug's as though drawn by an organic magnet. Doug was shuddering violently; much more than she. His every muscle quaked and trembled as a maddening detonator to the explosion of love.
She pleaded inwardly for Doug to touch her awakened body. Her breasts had throbbed from the pain of abuse, now she wanted them to ache with the pain of love. If he would only start; make a move. Her body cried out for his touch.
Bobbi's fingers dug into the muscles of Doug's back as their lips held the first position of contact. Without voluntary direction Bobbi's lips parted slightly, and her tongue probed between Doug's lips. His lips tensed in a vise-like reluctance until they finally gave way. Their tongue tips mingled.
Suddenly Doug thrust away from Bobbi in a wild frustrated cry. He buried his face in the blanket covering of the bunk.
"What is it, Doug?" she gasped. "What is it?"
"I can't ... I can't. I don't know what to do."
"Doug, I love you."
He turned back to face her. Bobbi saw tears in his eyes. He looked puzzled at first, but after a scrutinizing pause he threw his arms around her once more. His voice ground out the words. "If I could only believe that."
"I do, Doug ... I'm sure of it. When I kissed you, I knew."
"You know?" he said, breathing more calmly. "When I saw your outline in the light from the street lamp ... I formed a picture of you. I saw your long blonde hair, but I imagined how green your eyes would be. I had an inward picture of your full, beautiful lips as they broke into a smile. I saw you, Bobbi, without my eyes. I saw you as the ideal of my dreams. Then you know something? When you turned around, you became the flesh and blood reality. I was afraid you would disappear like the other dreams I had of you. If you could love me ... If you really could."
"I do," cried Bobbi. "If I didn't I could never be like this. I've never wanted anyone so much. I mean ... like this. Doug, I want you. I'm on fire."
"Darling." Doug raised up a little. "There's something you should know." Then he smiled. "I guess there are a lot of things you should know about me, but this one you should know right now. I ... I've never been with a girl before. Dammit, I've never even kissed a girl before."
Bobbi clung to him desperately. "Darling, my life hasn't been that pure."
"I wasn't asking for confessions. The past isn't important. I don't care anything about that. I'm just saying if you commit yourself to me now, I'll probably expect you to be all mine ... forever."
"Please," she begged, "let's not make demands. Let's just love each other and trust in the future."
Doug sat up and leaned against the paneling beside the bunk. He held Bobbi's hand in his and looked down into her face. "We're both vulnerable, Bobbi. At least part of our feelings at this moment are a result of our unhappy circumstances. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"I think so. Do you mean that we're escaping from something?"
"That's it. In other words, we have to be sure that we haven't discovered fool's gold. There's no doubt in my mind, I'll tell you that right now. I've watched for you over that hill for too long for there to be any doubts on my part. With you, it's a little different. You were suddenly thrown into a whirlpool. You might take hold of the first branch, hoping it will support you. If you waited a little longer, you might find an even bigger limb to cling to. One that would surely see you to safety. Oh, to hell with it ... I'm talking in abstractions. I'm just trying to say that you could do a hell of a lot better than me if you looked around."
T don't believe that," Bobbi told him. Tears had come to her eyes.
Doug looked at her a moment longer. He slipped down beside her again and framed her face in his hands. His lips parted as his breathing rose. "Bobbi," he whispered, "do you want to do it?"
The way he looked and the words he said instantly rekindled the fires. "Yes ... oh yes I do."
Doug smiled gently. "Think we should get undressed?"
Bobbi closed her eyes and nodded. "Would you undress me, Doug?"
Doug held his hands up. They were trembling. "If you've got a lot of patience."
"We've got lots of time. The rest of our lives."
Doug rubbed his palms together, and frowned. "Where do you suppose I should start?"
"Wherever you want. I'll tell you what ... Let's undress each other."
"It seems we're making a hell of a production of this. Let's just get our clothes off and do it."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bobbi hastily began to unbutton her blouse. Doug yanked off his tee shirt. Bobbi slipped off the bunk to take off the tight capris. There was no false modesty. She was being brazen, but she didn't care. She was rid of everything but her bra and panties. She tingled all over as she waited for Doug to catch up. His back was turned as he balanced himself to remove his trousers. When they cleared his feet he kicked them aside. He lowered his shorts and suddenly froze. Bobbi saw why, but she turned away before he noticed she was watching. She crawled on the bunk and waited for Doug to join her. She wanted nothing to spoil their moment, but the sight of the nasty welts on his buttocks filled her with wonder. She couldn't dwell on it. More important matters were at hand. She heard a click and the cabin was in darkness. She felt Doug's weight on the mattress and then felt his body against her back.
She felt his awkward fingers fumble with the intricacy of her brassiere catch. She could do it for him. She could unhook it with a flip of her finger, but this was Doug's job; she must not help him with it.
Seconds seemed to pass as hours while Doug frantically fumbled with the stubborn catch, but finally it let go. Her breasts broke free as though the simple nylon garment had been a girdle of log chains. Her back was still to Doug. She felt him run his fingers along her side and reach his hand around her breasts. His fingertips lightly caressed her and felt downward toward her stomach. She felt his fingers slip under the elastic of her panties, and she quickly lifted her hips to aid him in his final preliminary. When the panties were lowered to her knees she shinnied them down until she could kick them free. Doug gently pressed her thigh toward him, and Bobbi flipped over to face her lover.
Their breathing was heavy, mixed with cries of yearning. Body met body in the white heat of naked embrace. Doug's lips found hers in the raging wildness of passion. His hands found her bursting breasts, and made them swell harder. His moist tongue found her ear. His sensitive fingers explored her further.
The weight of his body was upon her, and brief moments of torment and frustration followed. The position was right. The moment was at hand. The sweet feel of love was prevalent but their unity was still to be made. They made unison cries for fulfillment as his awkward thrusts led nowhere. Bobbi assisted and their world of lost warmth opened up in blazing welcome of pain and pleasure. The thrill was complete. Doug was taking her masterfully. "Oh Doug, darling ... darling. I love you; I love you. Love me; love me...."
Bobbi lay beside Doug in her post love rapture. Her body had once again sipped the forbidden nectar of physical love. The mystery once more was solved. She had actually sworn she would never give in to another man after the chain of events caused by Tom. But that was then. This was now.
Her body tingled with sweet, forgotten sensations as her breathing slowed down. The internal tingling of satisfaction permeated her soul. This was sex; this was love. It was essential, wonderful. She could feel no guilt. It occurred to her, in fact, that she was fortunate. She had risen with Doug beautifully, and the feel of Doug proved that he had been there too. Their cries had been simultaneous, and now their rapture was shared. She moved her free hand to Doug's head and fingered his dampened hair. "Doug, darling," she said in a cloudy voice, "did you like it?"
He shifted to his side to allow his hand to feel her soft body. "It's the answer, honey," he said, still slightly out of breath. "I ... I had no idea anything could be so beautiful."
"I knew it would be perfect," she said.
He kissed her cheek. "Now that I know what it's like, those nights alone will be rough."
"Let's not even think of nights alone," she said, snuggling closer.
There was a long silence as the young lovers toyed in casual reverence to each others bodies. Doug's hand encaged Bobbi's breast. His finger encircled the point ed tip. The tickling sent a shudder down through her entire body. "Don't do that or I'll never let you go," she said lightly.
"I'm in no hurry," he countered.
They started to move closer, but Bobbi thought better of the idea. "We'd better be getting home," she said. "I don't want you to get into trouble with your mother."
"What a thought for a time like this."
"I'm sorry, but don't you think you should get home? It must be late."
"It'll be all right," he said, leaning on his elbow, "but I'm worried about you. I hate to think of you walking back into that mess."
"I'm not afraid anymore, Doug ... honestly. Nothing ugly can penetrate my mind. I'm too full of thoughts about you. With your love inside me nothing can hurt me."
"Do you really love me, Bobbi?" he questioned. "I mean really?"
"Yes, Doug, I love you very much."
"Will you marry me?"
The abrupt question startled Bobbi, but she offered a prompt reply. "Of course I will. I'd love to be your wife."
"Then you really do love me."
"Of course I do."
"Then we'll do it," he said, rising to a sitting position. "Let's get married right away."
"Whatever you say, darling."
"All right. Look," said Doug, "I have some money. I'll go and get it right now. We won't have to wait at all. Then when daylight comes we'll borrow the boat and go and get married. There's a town about sixty or seventy miles from here where we can get married within twenty minutes."
"Wonderful! Oh, Doug!"
"Will you wait right here for me?"
"Yes, I will, but I was hoping to be better dressed on my wedding day. Do you suppose we could put it off for one day?"
There was a silence. Then Doug said, "Sure we can, Bobbi. Guess I was getting carried away. Let's meet here tomorrow night." He flicked on the lantern above the bed and looked at his watch. "It's after three in the morning. I'll meet you here at eleven tonight. We'll stay together and cast off at daybreak."
"That sounds perfect," said Bobbi.
Doug paused then to study his nude bride-to-be. "I'm going to miss you," he said. "You're beautiful. You're soft and smooth and lovely."
Bobbi smiled at Doug, and slipped off the bunk to retrieve her abandoned clothing.
Their goodbye kisses lingered. They finally parted at three-thirty. At three-forty-five Bobbi took a deep breath and entered her mother's apartment. She half expected to find the party in its orgiastic climax, but upon opening the door she found all was quiet. The lights were still burning, and the party remnants were in startling evidence. Cigarette butts and puddles of spilled drinks covered the living room linoleum. The floor lamp lay on its side. Its globe was shattered, but the three-way bulb continued to burn. Near the couch was a pair of women's panties. Not far away was a pair of men's shorts. Bobbi cautiously ventured into the hallway to see if the owners of the underwear might have moved to the bedroom. No ... the coast was clear. Her mother's bedroom was empty and so was her own. She was exhausted and looked forward to a dream filled sleep. Tonight her dreams would be pleasant ones.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bobbi undressed, casting periodical glances at her ripe woman's body in the dressing table mirror. It looked the same, but it was alive again with the warmth of love. She felt contented inside. The feeling was good.
Bobbi was startled when she went into the bathroom. Just inside the door was the body of her mother. At first she was sure her mother was dead, but then she heard a loud snore. Bobbi's favorite dress was beside her on the floor. This was the dress she hoped to be married in, but it was in no condition for anything but the trash can. It was torn and wet with vomit. For a moment Bobbi was furious. She felt like pounding her naked mother with her fists. She gritted her teeth and stepped over the prostrate form to the wash basin. She brushed her teeth and went to bed.
Bobbi's thoughts of Doug gave her a sound night's sleep. Her sleep was broken finally by her mother's voice. "Time to get up, sweetness."
Bobbi pulled the covers over her head, but she felt her mother sit on the edge of the bed. "Don't try foolin' your old ma," she sang. "I know you're awake. Turn around here. I want us to have a nice mother-daughter chat."
Bobbi reluctantly turned over. "What do you want?"
Bobbi had to marvel at her mother's amazing resiliency to alcohol. She looked perfectly recovered from the night before. She held a highball in her hand. "Want a little eye opener, dear?" she said.
Bobbi refused and Ethel got to the point. She demanded to know where Bobbi had spent the night. She said she had waited up until all hours for her to get in. She went on to advise Bobbi that Doug was bad company. She said that Gus was a far better bet for her. She said that Doug had a bad reputation in town.
"What do you mean by bad reputation?"
"He gets in trouble mostly, but everybody in King's Cove thinks of him as being a nut. He ain't like decent people. He peeks at people from around bushes. They say he is as batty as his mother."
"He's probably lonely," Bobbi defended. "But it doesn't matter. I still prefer to choose my friends."
"Well, dear, I got a little something to say about that. Tony and I decided that you ain't gonna see him no more. It's for your own good."
Bobbi didn't argue. She just lay back. She knew that her mother and Tony weren't going to keep her away from Doug, so it didn't matter what she said.
Ethel went on to scold her for running out on the party. She said that Gus was good and sore about it, and if she wasn't careful he would pass her up completely.
After another sip of her drink Ethel began to point out the dangers of running into the bushes with strange men. She said it was time Bobbi learned how to take care of herself. She said that guys like Gus took necessary precautions to guard against pregnancy.
"Will you please stop it!" shouted Bobbi. "I'll worry about my own personal problems. I'd rather you kept your advice to yourself."
"Aw, let's not fight, dolly darlin'," said Ethel.
"If you would just let me alone, it might not be so bad," said Bobbi.
"All right," said Ethel, "I'll lay off, but I got plans for you, and nothin's gonna change things."
Bobbi let her mother leave the room without rekindling the argument. She dressed in hip hugger jeans and fixed her hair into a ponytail. Maybe she would go out for a walk on the beach. Anything to get away from the sour smelling apartment.
When she entered the living room she saw her mother mixing another drink in the kitchen. "I'm going to the beach," Bobbi said.
"You ain't got any ideas about scootin', have you?" her mother questioned.
"I'll be back, don't worry. If you could spare some of my money, I'd like to buy some lunch."
Her mother studied her for a moment. "How do I know you won't use it for bus fare?"
"Because I'm telling you I want it for a sandwich. Just give me a dollar."
Her mother finally went into the bedroom and came back with a dollar bill. "Don't try anything," she warned. "I got my spies around here."
Bobbi left the apartment. Her mother watched her walk down the steps and head for the beach. Aloud, she mumbled, "That kid's gonna be trouble before we're through. Can't figure out today's youngsters."
She began to close the door, but noticed a sedan parked at the curb. She saw a young man lean over to look out his window. She closed the door. "Wonder who that is? Is old Tony sending customers over at lunch time now?"
She spruced up quickly and waited for the knock on the door. She opened it and grinned at the tall, handsome, blond haired young man. "Hello," she said, smiling up at him. "What can I do for you, handsome?"
"Oh ... does Bobbi Sargent live here?"
Ethel sobered immediately. "Who wants to know?"
"Are you her mother?" he asked. Ethel failed to reply. "My name is Paul Mason. I was told that this was Bobbi's new address."
"What do you want with her?"
"We're old friends. I was hoping to speak to her."
"She ain't here."
"Do you expect her to return soon?"
"I have no idea."
He studied her a moment. "If you don't mind, I'll wait for her. I've driven a long way."
Ethel started closing the door. "She ain't here, and I ain't expectin' her."
"Just a second," he said before the door was completely closed. "May I leave a note? I'll be staying at the Captain's Quarters Motel. If she comes home she can call me there."
"Look, kid," said Ethel, "I'll tell you right now, Bobbi ain't got time to see you. I doubt if she'll be back in less than a week. Even then she wouldn't call."
Paul glared at her. "Why do you say that?"
"Oh hell, I don't know. She just ... well, she's still upset. Know what I mean? She don't wanta bring back bad memories."
"I'll write a note on the back of my card," he said. "See that she gets it please."
He took out a card and a pen, and wrote a message, using the porch rail to write upon. He handed her the card and Ethel slammed the door.
Paul walked back to his gray sedan, glancing over his shoulder in disbelief. He couldn't believe that a sweet girl like Bobbi could have a mother like that. Something weird was going on. He climbed into his car and shrugged. Maybe what the woman said was true, but he'd like Bobbi to be the one to tell him.
He let the car roll to the bottom of the hill and paused to watch the ocean for a moment. He almost decided to knock off for an hour or two and get some sun, but suddenly started the car and turned around. He knew if he didn't get to work he wouldn't feel like it later on. He had two calls he could make in King's Cove. Then he would try once more to contact Bobbi. If she didn't want to see him then he would forget about her. It would not be easy though. Not a day had gone by that he hadn't thought of her. He hoped she might even learn to care for him. He supposed he was just dreaming.
Bobbi heard a car start. She looked up from her spot on the stand and saw the gray sedan back around and leave the dead end of Marine Street. Somehow every sound seemed to disturb her. She couldn't help but feel that people were spying on her from the bushes. If she could just get through the next several hours all would work out well, but the time would pass slowly for her until she was in the arms of her lover. Doug offered hope for the future, and with him she would find the strength to face it. They would have a wonderful life together; she would see to it.
She lay back on the sand and closed her eyes to the warmth of the spring sun. She thought of Doug and what they had done together the night before. She had enjoyed her sex experiences with Tom, but with Doug it had been the most rewarding and satisfying experience of her life. Even now she felt a steady warmth within her. She had only to think of Doug's hard, muscular body for the warmth to grow.
Once again she was disturbed by the feeling that she was being watched. She rose to an elbow and looked around. Her suspicions were confirmed. Leaning on the Marine Street guard rail was Gus. He watched her silently, but when she looked his way he jumped the rail and ran down the path.
She started to leave, hoping it would discourage him. He called out, "Wait for me, lover!"
Bobbi walked toward the pier without looking back, but after a few steps Gus was beside her. He wore only trousers. The sun made the hair on his chest look like copper wire. "What's the hurry, princess? Let's sit down and have a talk."
"I'd rather not," she said.
He took her wrist. "I said sit down and we can talk."
"Let go of me," said Bobbi, trying to break his grip. "Then sit down." He forced her to the sand. "What you got against me anyway?"
She massaged her wrist as Gus sat down. "I want to be left alone. I don't even want to talk to you."
"Look, there are plenty of chicks who think I'm okay. Little Flo, for instance. She says I'm the best she ever had. She's still at my pad. Can't get her out of the place."
Bobbi looked away.
"Look," he said confidentially, "I don't blame you for not digging your old lady, and even Tony's a little rough to take. If you was to stick with ole Gus things could be different. They're just afraid you'll take off. They don't trust you."
"I want nothing to do with any of you."
"You know what they got planned for you? I'll tell you, kitten. They have an idea that you'll hustle for them this summer. Ethel is washed up for the big dough, but a chick like you can get fifty clams a trick. They're counting on that, kid. They ain't about to let you slip between their fingers. With you and Flo working the place they could vacation in Florida all winter."
"Do you think I would ever do anything like that?"
"You wouldn't want to ... but you would. You would because you wouldn't get any choice. They r break you down a little at a time. They got a real professional routine they use. With them it's a cinch because Tony runs the damn town. You won't stand a prayer."
"I should thank you for the warning," she said half gratefully, "but I'm not afraid. I know it won't work."
"Look, I'm willing to play for your side. You'n me can set up a store further up the lake. If you work for me, I'll see that you get the hundred dollar boys. I'd see that only the cleanest people got in the joint."
"Please, the subject makes me sick. I'll never be a prostitute for you or anyone. I'll die first."
"Okay, I'll tell you what ... I like you good enough to make you my own private chick. Stick with me and I'll bring home the bacon. How about movin' in with me?"
Gus had selected a private part of the beach for their discussion. It was set back from the rest of the beach and tree covered on three sides. When she offered no response to his last proposal he leaned forward and kissed her. Bobbi was taken by surprise. When she realized what was happening it was too late to resist. His lips ground hungrily into hers. His tongue worked into her mouth. She felt his hand crush against her breasts. She tried to move but his weight was over her. He leaned over her saying, "How about it, baby? Let's make it up there in the bushes.
Nobody'll be around."
With her head free, Bobbi was able to free a hand. She pushed it against his face. He flicked it away with no trouble at all and smiled down at her. "See how silly you talk? You say you would die before you'd give in. I could take you right now if I wanted."
"I'll kill you if you try."
Gus's face flamed with anger. He brought his hand back across her mouth. Then he brought it forward again with a resonant slap. Bobbi covered her face, and Gus released her.
Bobbi cried out. "Why can't you leave me alone?"
"I will, baby. I don't have to rape, but I'll have you, you can count on that. After old fat Tony gets through with you, you'll come crawling back to me. Hear what I say?"
He took her face in his hands and turned it around to face him. "I said, do you hear me?"
"I heard you."
"I said you'll come crawling to me. Remember that!"
Gus pushed her back down and walked off toward the pier. Bobbi let the tears come without restraint. "Oh, Doug," she cried out, "please, oh please ... don't let me down."
CHAPTER NINE
Bobbi stayed at the beach until late afternoon. Without Gus it was a pleasant and peaceful place. There was no violence, no vulgar talk, no hands reaching for her. It was a welcome sanctuary.
She thought of Doug. He was quiet, mature, intelligent, and very handsome. What more could a girl ask? She wondered about his mother. She saw the ugly welts on Doug's back. She would never bring it up to him, but he certainly must be humiliated by it. Bobbi was sure Doug would snap out of his bitterness when he had someone who loved him. She had love to offer; plenty of it.
Her mind disobediently returned to Gus. Why should he suppose she would come crawling to him? Nothing could make her do that. She couldn't bear the sight of him, let alone go to bed with him. It was foolish to even consider it. It was impossible.
Bobbi left her spot on the beach when the sun began to set. It was just beginning to get dark when she climbed the steps at the side of the Italian Grocery. Her mother was sitting at the table when Bobbi entered. She wore another of Bobbi's dresses and was painted up with rouge. She was obviously drunk. "Where the devil have you been, dolly?" Ethel slurred.
"Down on the beach," Bobbi answered.
"Gus said he seen you there hours ago. Whatcha do, meet some hot young buck and crawl off into the bushes?"
"I was alone. I was enjoying the quietness. I didn't even talk to anyone."
"Let's not start another fight, honeybun," said Ethel, waving her hands. "I plan to take you out on the town tonight. We'll have a real nice time."
"No thanks," Bobbi said. "I'm tired. I plan to go to bed early."
"You'll go to bed when I tell you, baby doll. Tonight we're goin' scroungin'. It's Friday and the farmers are in town. You'n me are gonna nail ourselves a few."
"You don't give up, do you? I thought you said we could relax until the season starts."
"I did say that, but Tony thought we'd better get you broke in before the season starts. I ain't told you this before, lambykins, but Tony kind of runs things. What he says goes."
Bobbi had to make a quick decision. She could go running out, but Tony might catch her before it was time to meet Doug. Her best bet would probably be to go along with her mother and take a chance on sneaking away in time for the late rendezvous. It would also give her a chance to dress up.
"What time do you plan on going out?" Bobbi asked.
"Soon's you get fixed up, honey. The hicks start drinkin' early around here. Say ... I got an idea," she said. "Why don't you pick one of my dresses? I feel awful wearin' yours all the time."
"No ... I'll find something," Bobbi said quickly.
Bobbi took a slow bath and took a long time in dressing. She was stalling, and she would continue to stall as long as she could. She selected her blue silk sheath dress and combed her .hair down loose. The care she was taking was for Doug.
Ethel finally opened her bedroom door. "I never seen anyone take so much time. Anyone as pretty as you don't need so much primping. Let's get started. Gus said he'd start us out with a blast on the house."
It was now eight o'clock. There were still three hours separating her from Doug. She would have to go with Ethel now. She wished herself luck.
The Royal Flush was bursting with wild humanity. The shuffleboard game was in full swing, and the bar patrons were standing four deep. Ethel seemed exhilirated with the excitement. Bobbi said, "It's too crowded to even sit down. Maybe we should go somewhere else."
Ethel assured her that VIPs like themselves would have no problem, and she was right. When Gus spotted them at the doorway he cleared two stools at the end of the bar. Bobbi sighed and followed her mother through the crowd. Over the noise, Gus took Ethel's order. Bobbi said she didn't want anything, but Gus said he would fix her a Shirley Temple.
Bobbi sat on the last stool against the wall so she didn't have to contend with anyone on her right. Ethel, sitting on her left, started an immediate conversation with the burly man beside her. Bobbi enjoyed her own seclusion.
Having been assured that her drink was non-alcoholic, she took a sip. It tasted good. Before her mother faced her again the drink was finished. Ethel whispered, "I think I'm wasting time. This jerk hasn't even offered to buy us a drink."
Between customers Gus slipped them fresh drinks. Ethel began looking around the room. "We'll drink up and blow in a minute," she said. "I don't see any spenders here. There's a steak house down the road. It's the only place in town where you can get a decent meal. The farmers who have dough eat there and booze at the bar."
The idea disturbed Bobbi. If she was outside town she might have trouble getting back in time to meet Doug. "What's the matter with this place? she asked Ethel.
"The Royal Flush is my second home, but there ain't no live ones here, hon. We got to go where the gold is."
After her mother made the announcement the man who had been sitting next to her moved behind Bobbi's stool. Ethel introduced Bobbi to the man in the T shirt. He would drive them to the road house. The man scrutinized Bobbi. Ethel laughed. "The kid takes after her big sister, don't she?"
Ethel sent Bobbi a wink to point out that the sister act was officially in play. Bobbi nervously finished her second drink. The man reached under her arm to push her glass forward on the bar. She felt his arm press against her breast. "Give us a round here, Gus," he called.
Ethel winked again, and when the man leaned back she whispered in Bobbi's ear. "At least you got him to spring for a drink."
If this man bought them a drink here at the Royal Flush, maybe a little encouragement would get him to buy several. Time was the important thing. If she could spend it here she would stand a chance of getting to Doug. "It's nice of you to buy a drink for us," she smiled.
"Why not?" said the man. "You're my kind of baby." He laughed a wet, wheezing laugh, and put his arm around Bobbi's shoulder. "Just remember there's plenty more drink money in these old jeans.
Bobbi accepted the drink and lifted it toward him in a silent toast. She downed it in one long swallow.
"Whatya got, a hollow leg?" he said.
"The kid's learnin'," said Ethel.
Suddenly Bobbi's cheeks felt hot. She looked at her mother and was unable to focus her eyes. She was puzzled. What could be wrong? The buzzing in the bar rose and closed out all individual conversation. She caught the face of Gus in her view, but then it was gone. She felt her fingers close around the glass and was amazed to find that it was brimming full again. She sipped and tried desperately to catch what the man behind her was saying. The words didn't quite register.
She did become aware of her mother's close, whispered words. "Let's blow, honey."
She drank the last from her glass and found herself being pushed through the crowd. Before she could find any reason to object she was sitting between the man and her mother. They were headed out of the parking lot. She recalled then that the air was cooler. Her mind told her that she wasn't well. "I don't feel so good," she mumbled.
"I'm not surprised," said Ethel. "You were beltin' that rum pretty good."
"Rum?"
"Yeah. Gus was giving you 150 proof in those goody drinks of yours."
Bobbi felt a hand on her knee as they roared along the highway. She didn't protest. It seemed to be part of the dream.
Bobbi's head lurched forward as the car came to a stop. "We're here, honey," Ethel said.
She felt herself being supported on both sides as they entered a three story converted home. Neon blazed over the roof. Bobbi couldn't read what the words said. They entered a door with glass bricks instead of window glass. Bobbi was able to read the word, BAR, in blazing red neon.
The place was crowded and a three piece band made it shake with rock and roll music. They sat in a booth and Bobbi noticed that she was next to the man. Her mother sat across from her. She leaned over to ask what was going on, but couldn't raise her voice above the sound of the music. There was the hand. She felt it slip under her dress. She pushed it away and was relieved at her success. Soon she found her hand surrounding another glass. It had a different shape from those at the Royal Flush. She wondered if the ingredients were different too. She took a sip. It was sweet.
Bobbi found things flying around the room in a living kaleidoscope. Now and then she would see the grin of her mother and next her eyes would close in on the heavy face of the man next to her.
Somehow Bobbi found a plate in front of her. It was a mystery. Someone must have ordered it, but she had no recollection of it at all. She was aware of her mother leaning forward and commanding her to eat. She obeyed without question. She nibbled and found that the food tasted good. But what was going on? What had happened to her? The man next to her had his arms around her as she tried to eat. She knew this wasn't right so she bumped him with her elbow. He moved away and she finished her meal.
Things were beginning to level off. At least she was able to sustain a thought. The thought told her she was drunk. She had been drinking rum. Somebody had said that to her. She had never tasted rum before, but obviously it was potent.
Then a face came into her vision. It was a face from somewhere in her past. She knew that she wanted no one from her past to find her in this condition. She turned away. She heard her mother's words rise above the tumult of the sound. "She doesn't want to talk to you," she heard her mother say. "Just leave us alone."
Bobbi looked again and saw the face. Now she recalled that it was from home. She had known him, she was aware of that, but how ... where?
"Are you all right, Bobbi?" the young man asked. Bobbi tried to smile. "I'm Paul Mason."
Bobbi felt her face smile a little, but she didn't know why. The noise once more shut out all thought.
"Would you like me to drive you home?" he asked.
"All right," she said. She was willing. This was a good face. She started to rise from the booth, but the man beside her held on to her arm.
Then there was trouble. She felt the table move away from her. She felt something whiz by her head. She heard the crashing of dishes. She found herself sitting on the floor. Out of the chaos, she finally felt an arm lifting her to her feet. She felt herself being pulled through a crowd of people. The nice young man must be taking her home.
CHAPTER TEN
She was in a car, she could tell by the rush of oncoming headlights. In the fleeting light she tried once more to identify the young man driving. She squinted, saw the face, but it wasn't the same. The face had changed. "Wha ... what happened?" she asked, trying to keep her eyes in focus.
"It's okay, kid," said the man. "That young buck tried to start trouble, but we got rid of him."
"Are you ... taking me home?"
"It's okay with me," he said. "Save me ten bucks."
He asked her several times where she lived and she finally managed to tell him the apartment was next to the Royal Flush. He was taking her home and that was good. She had to meet Doug. She must already be late.
"Okay, babe," said the man, shaking her arm, "we're back at the Royal Flush."
She stumbled out the door of the car and staggered to the grocery store and up the side steps. Ethel had given her a key, but she had trouble finding it in her purse. Somebody helped her and the door was open. She plunged inside and headed for her bedroom. She belly-flopped on the mattress, unable to think beyond this single urgent need.
"Come on, babe," a voice said out of an echo chamber. "You can help a little. That's it ... sit up now ... There."
Nothing was making sense really, but she was getting undressed. She must help ... she must help. She plucked at her dress, and then only had to lift her arms for it to be pulled free. She tried to reach behind to unhook her bra, but this too was being done for her.
"Nice ... real nice. Say, you're quite a woman. Your old sis is a bag of bones next to you."
The room was spinning, but Bobbi tried desperately to see where the strange voice was coming from. She zeroed in on an outline just above her. The face was familiar somehow. It was a burly man's face, and she associated it with the Royal Flush Bar. "Go away," she said, throwing out an arm.
She couldn't fight. She simply didn't have the energy. She felt herself being mauled, but maybe it was just another dream. Her hands touched about her waist and then lower. Her clothes were gone. She was naked. Good ... maybe she could sleep.
She felt her body fall into a tight hold, and her mouth was being smothered by a wet, tobacco scented kiss. She thrashed her head aside but nothing would stop it. She felt a vise crushing her breast. Something was devouring her body in crushing touches. Her hips, her bottom, her legs, a hand crept between her thighs and squeezed. Every time she reached out a protesting hand to one part of her body, a sensation occurred in another. She simply could not keep up this fight ... she couldn't.
Then the kiss was off her mouth and she gasped for a deep breath. The mauling of her lower body didn't relent. She felt her body being placed flat and something was edging between her knees. She opened her eyes to see what was happening, but it was dark. Everything was dark.
She heard sounds though, hungry, wheezing, breathing sounds; the sounds were very near. Then with a loud grunt a bulk of flesh fell over her. Her legs were thrust apart and she was cradling this massive hulk. "Noooo!" she cried out feebly. She wrenched, strained, flailed weakly with her fists, but she was captured. "Oh no ... no ... Oh ... Doug ... is it you? Oh, Doug, Doug, Doug ... Oh Doug, darling ... Do it, Doug, do it. Oh, do it to me!"
The flame of sensuality managed to penetrate her fog, but that was all. It must be all right ... it must be. Somehow she had kept her date with Doug. They were man and wife. They were happy too ... very, very happy. "Ohhh ... wonderful," she said, clutching her lover and pushing to meet him. "It's so good!"
"You ain't bad yourself, honey," a harsh, discordant voice growled in her ear.
Bobbi fell from her ecstatic joy in a sharp slap of reality. She panicked, her breath gathered tight in her breast, and with a superhuman outward gust, she screamed.
She felt the onerous weight lift. In a scurry of movement and placating words, she saw a strange man stumbling into his clothing and running. "You must damn well be crazy, woman!" he said, running with half his clothes in his hands.
It didn't quite register with Bobbi. She only knew she was violently ill, and in bad trouble. She half sat up and sobbed in erratic repetition. "What have I done?" she cried out. "What did I do?"
She kept wailing her frantic call as she got out of bed. She roamed about the apartment sobbing, crying out for help. She didn't know how much time passed before she heard someone running up the outside stairs.
"What's wrong, beautiful!" said a voice she knew. Then a light went on. It was Gus. Bobbi fell willingly into his consoling arms. "I saw a guy running out of here ... what'd he do ... rape you?"
She sobbed uncontrollably and Gus led her back to her room. She wanted to tell him what happened, but she couldn't. She didn't really know.
"Here," he said, handing her the dress that was "thrown on the floor. "Better get into something, or I'll jump you myself. Knock off the bawling and tell ole Gus what happened."
Bobbi took the dress and gathered her other things together. She carried them with her into the bathroom, and closed the door. After a time Gus started pounding on the door, but she couldn't talk to him. She sat down and held her clothes. She started to get into them, but paused. No ... she must wash, and wash good. This was urgent, imperative. She leaned over and drew water in the tub. When she got into the water she used the bar of soap to scrub and scrub and scrub. The sensation had been there ... where it had been with Doug before, but this wasn't right. The feeling had no right to be there ... no right at all.
The pounding on the door returned intermittently and she heard other voices outside, but she couldn't leave the safety of her bathroom. She was afraid to. Then another voice sounded. She listened; really listened for the first time.
"It's me, Bobbi," said the deep, cultured voice. "It's Paul Mason. You've got to come out, Bobbi."
"Just ... a minute," she answered finally.
She dressed and did her best to apply some lipstick and comb her hair. She looked pale, but also red and swollen about the eyes. She was a mess. As she worked before the mirror she tried to tie Paul Mason into all the other fragments of her memory. She vaguely recalled seeing him somewhere in the nightmare. But how? How did Paul enter into any of this? He was no one she wanted to see. She never wanted to see him again, but he wasn't part of this nightmare. He was left over from another. She did the best reconstruction job she could and then ventured outside. She saw Paul standing in the living room. Gus was standing beside him.
"What happened, Bobbi?" Paul said, coming to her.
She hadn't expected Gus to still be there. But now she knew only one thing. She had to run. She had to get away. She made a wild lunge for the door and cast it open. She ran down the stairs and headed toward the beach. They were running after her, calling, but they would never catch her ... never.
She ran into the trees and avoided the path as she headed toward her rendezvous with Doug. After a time she had lost her followers.
She must have fallen a dozen times, but she couldn't stop. She paused only long enough to remove her heels, and then continued her mission barefooted. She didn't stop running until the familiar boathouse came into sight. After a quick survey to be sure she hadn't been followed, she continued the remaining distance. She reached the boathouse door and slammed her shoulder against it. She tried to turn the knob, but the door was locked. "Oh no," she cried out. She slumped to the planks of the walk. "Oh God, Doug ... where are you. Where are you?"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bobbi had reached the end of the line. If Doug didn't come she had no place else to go. She was exhausted, abused and dizzy. As she cried, an aching in her head became almost unbearable, but she couldn't seem to stop. What would she do if Doug changed his mind? Where could she turn?
During the day she had made up her mind to confess all her transgressions to Doug before they set out to get married. She had always believed in absolute honesty, and she knew it would be a mistake to enter into marriage without cleaning her slate. Doug deserved the truth. But now she had another ugly confession to make. While marking time before their meeting she had actually gone to bed with a stranger. She had allowed a crude farmer to have sex with her in her own bedroom. How could she explain this? How could she convince anyone that she hadn't been aware of what was happening?
A sound shook the haze from Bobbi's mind. She looked up to find Doug kneeling down at her side. "Doug ... it's you!" she cried out.
He took her in his arms and smoothed her hair. "Oh, Bobbi," he said sadly. "Are you okay, honey?"
"Yes," she sniffled. "I had trouble getting here, but it's okay now. Now everything will be fine. Let's get inside."
When they were in the cabin, he put on the light and sat beside her on the bunk. "I was afraid you had changed your mind," she said, snuggling against him. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."
"I thought about you all day. I was afraid you might be the one to change your mind. I was frantic trying to get out on time. Thank God you waited."
"I wasn't here long," she said.
"We're together now, and that's all that matters. We'll have to make up for all the lost time."
"Doug?" she said, pressing him back gently. "There are things I want you to know about me. Things you should know before you take me for your wife."
"No!" he said angrily. "Please don't try to change our plans. Don't spoil things, Bobbi, please. Nothing matters ... nothing ... I'd die if you backed out now!"
'It isn't that, honey," she said insistently. "I want to be your wife ... but...."
"Do you love me?" he said, crushing her arms in his grip. "Of course I do."
"Then that's all I want to know. The boat's all ready. I'm going to take it out a way and drop anchor until morning. I don't want to take any chances here on shore."
Bobbi followed around as he readied the boat for action. As he unleashed the lines, she asked who the boat belonged to. He told her it belonged to the family lawyer, a man named Porter.
"He must be very kind to let you use such a valuable boat," she said.
Doug sent a strange glance her way. "Yeah ... he's okay." Doug then went to the pilot's cockpit. He started the engines and maneuvered the yacht out of the boathouse. A few minutes later they were churning through the calm waters of the marina toward the open sea.
After a few minutes of travel, Doug brought the boat into the snug harbor of an island. He said it would be a good place to spend the night. Bobbi's body sang out in anticipation of his love ... his good and pure love. Doug's love would undo the damage of all the man's bodies in her life. The goodness of his sex would purify her body forever.
She went down to the cabin and he followed her minutes later. He lingered at the bottom step.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head and smiled. "No ... everything's right. I just wanted to take a long drink of you. You're too beautiful to believe."
"I'm nothing special," she said, looking away.
He came to the bunk and took her hands. "Oh yes you are," he insisted. "You have hair the color of golden flax. You have deep blue eyes ... and skin as creamy as ivory. You're the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on, Bobbi. You're perfect."
With her eyes turned downward, she said, "I like the way you look too, Doug." She then looked into his eyes. "I love you very much."
Doug accepted Bobbi's words but then he let out a small cry and gathered Bobbi into his arms. "Oh, darling, darling," he gasped into her ear, "if I could just believe it. It's all too perfect to be true."
"Don't say that, Doug."
"I can't help it. I've never had such good luck before. It's almost too good to last. It's like watching a beautiful sunset. Just when the beauty of it reaches its ultimate it's suddenly gone."
"We'll see that our love lasts, Doug. Please ... oh, please, darling, don't talk like that. I don't know what I'd ever do without you."
He kissed her and their fires burst forth inside. "Shouldn't we get undressed?" he said.
Bobbi nodded and hurriedly began to unzip her dress. "Do you think Mr. Porter would mind if we got under the covers?" she asked, placing her dress over a bench.
Doug had his shirt off. He smiled. "I'm skipper of the ship now. I say it's all right."
Bobbi hastily removed her hose. Then, just as quickly, she removed her garter belt and thrust aside her slip, bra, and panties. She was completely nude and was unashamed. She stood across the small cabin bathed in amber lantern light. She watched as Doug joined her in nudity. When he looked .up she stood still. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted to feel the eyes of her lover on her desiring body. It might be brazen, but she didn't care. What she had was all his, and she wanted him to see it.
Doug wet his dry lips and let his eyes feast on her exquisite nakedness. He was trembling with passion as she went to him. They embraced tightly. Bobbi had stayed away from him as long as she could, but now she had to feel him against her.
His hands felt along her back, and came to rest beneath her buttocks. He held the full, firm spheres in his hands, "Your body is beautiful ... the most perfect body in the world."
"So is yours, darling," she said, moving her hips in a lateral circular motion to bring the contact closer.
Doug flung the covers back and followed Bobbi into the bunk. She lay on her back, and Doug lay on his side next to her. He spent a moment savoring the view of her exposed body in the dim cabin light. Her breasts stood high in distended excitement. They swelled and heaved in Bobbi's irregular breathing. Her stomach was flat, but rose and fell in unison movement with her breasts.
Bobbi trembled in her moment of need. Her legs had been straight together, but the feeling of arousal caused her farthest leg to rise almost automatically. She bent her knee to give Doug a view of the delicate curve of her leg. Her thigh was firm with no excess. Her calf rounded perfectly.
Doug let his hand explore the sensuous curve of her under thigh. Her skin was too soft to really feel through the sense of touch. She was too perfect to evaluate in descriptive terms. She had an aura of beauty that great artists spent lifetimes looking for. But Doug had her. This incredible jewel of womanhood was his. His own.
His hand moved from her leg, crossed her flat stomach and softly clasped her breast. He felt her heavy heartbeat beneath her pliant softness. He kissed her and Bobbi moaned. "Please, darling she cried at last, "if you want me ... take me."
Doug wanted her. He wanted her very much. He moved his lips to her starving mouth and moved his body over hers.
Bobbi felt a momentary twinge of pain, but it was wanted. She pushed forward to intensify it. She cried into his ear as he became part of her. She arched her body higher. "Oh, darling," she gasped. "You're so wonderful."
She felt his body tremble and she clung to him to join each move. They groaned and sighed and cried together as love alchemized into ecstasy. They loved as though their shared moments were truly destined to be short lived. They loved as if there would be no tomorrow. Tonight was what mattered. They believed and showed it by their melting, burning, devouring bodies.
His movements quickened and a final love bombardment sent them into the mad fulfillment of love. Bobbi cried out in her tidal wave of passion. Doug whimpered into the pillow under her head. The rush, the flood; the boiling of life absorbed them, engulfed them. Rapture was theirs.
They held to their high note of culmination for a long moment. Doug felt Bobbi's body convulse under his own. He kissed her neck, her lips, her face, and made vows of love. Bobbi cried in quiet, exhausted contentment.
Later, when Doug slipped to his side, Bobbi shifted to face him. They pulled the covers up around their bodies and snuggled close. "Bobbi," he whispered. He kissed her cheek. "My own beautiful, sweet darling."
Then they fell asleep in a close contented embrace.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Doug's sleep came to an abrupt end at daybreak. He jerked to a sitting position to break from a black and dismal dream. The exact contents of the dream escaped him in waking, but its ominous tone was prominent in his mind. He looked to his side and breathed easier. Bobbi was still there asleep. She hadn't left him.
Bobbi turned over as he got out of the bunk. She reached out toward him, but awakened at her vacant touch. She looked up, and upon seeing him she smiled sleepily. She stretched her arms to beckon his return to the nest. Doug leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'd better not get too close," he said. "We have to get underway."
She tried to lock him in her arms. "Can't it wait a few minutes?"
"No, honey," he advised. "We really have to start. We have a lot of miles ahead of us."
Bobbi pouted momentarily, but threw the covers back. Doug took a sharp breath at the nude picture that once again filled his senses. Each time he saw her he had to again convince himself that it was really true. Perhaps in time he would discover a blemish, but he couldn't conceive of it. Her breasts were proud and supple. Her round bottom curved perfectly into lean, but sinuous hips. The hips smoothed into beautifully shaped legs. He, Doug King, beholding such beauty. This alone was more than he had dared hoped for. But he had reveled in her softness; her warmth. He had heard her own words of love. She was his very own.
Bobbi sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the bunk. She rubbed a knuckle into a sleepy eye. Her shoulder length, blond hair looked tantalizing in its disarray. She faced him and smiled once more. "It was nice sleeping with you, darling," she said.
He came close enough to lift her chin with his finger. She looked into his eyes adoringly. "I'm a lucky guy. I love you, Bobbi."
She wrinkled her nose and once more extended her arms. "Are you sure we have to start right away?"
He smiled back. "Real sure."
Doug lifted anchor and brought the boat under power while Bobbi dressed. A little later she joined him in the cockpit to advise that the breakfast menu would necessarily consist of corned beef hash or mushroom soup. This was the extent of their larder. Doug liked the idea of hash so Bobbi went back down to prepare it.
After their first unceremonious meal together, Doug let Bobbi take the wheel. He sat back for a moment watching her ponytail bounce to the movement of the boat as it cut through the water. The sky was clear and blue and the clouds were billowy and white. Bobbi's windswept form in the foreground of this picture made Doug wish he could paint. He couldn't take his eyes away from her. He didn't even try. He felt he had to drink in enough of her beauty to last him forever. "Never," he told himself, "can anything this good last. It's impossible."
He went to her then and encircled her tiny waist in his arms. She snuggled her head against his shoulder as a gesture of welcome. This was their day. They must savor every possible moment of it.
Doug playfully explored Bobbi's curves as she diligently held the wheel on course. She scolded him coyly, and playfully slapped his wandering hands. She leaned her head toward his ear. "On shipboard," she said, "it's a rule that the crew keep its hands off the quartermaster."
"Show me that rule," he said.
They laughed their way southward toward the town of Dorsey. Their legal merger was soon to be realized. Once they were made man and wife their problems would solve themselves. Doug told her they would be married and she already felt as though she was his wife. Doug was less confident. He wanted it as much as Bobbi but he was aware of obstacles that Bobbi had no idea existed. Time was important. Time was of the essence.
Doug took the wheel again when the harbor of Dorsey came into sight. He nervously navigated the yellow honeymoon craft into the public slip, and cast off the mooring lines. Bobbi stepped to the dock to hold one of the lines until Doug could secure it. He cut the engines and stepped up beside her. He hastily tied up and led Bobbi away from the boat. "What's wrong, Doug?" she asked, alarmed at his furious pace.
"I'm a little nervous, sweetheart," he answered. "I've never been a prospective groom before."
The court house was across from the dock. Before they stepped up to the marriage license window, Doug reminded Bobbi to give her age as eighteen. She was suddenly concerned. "Will the marriage be legal if I lie about my age?"
"Yes. Once we're married everything will be legal. They don't ask for any proof here. Just move your birth date back a year when they ask."
The procurement of their license went without a hitch. Doug breathed a bit easier with this phase of the operation behind them. They were sent to a nearby lab to get their blood test certificate. At the tiny lab they were held up for thirty minutes.
By the time the certificate was issued Doug was trembling. Bobbi grasped his hand to reassure him. He smiled nervously and returned to the court house where the actual marriage would take place. The process was a bit depressing in itself. The couples who went through the steps with them were of all physical types. Some were scrubby and well past prime age. Others were too young to be believed at the license window. Several were definitely drunk. They sat on a wooden bench to await their turn with the judge. "It isn't a very pleasant place, is it?" he said to Bobbi.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "As long as they marry us I'll be happy."
"Bet you didn't expect your wedding day to be like this," he said. "We'll have to use the rest of the day to seek happier surroundings."
"The surroundings don't matter," she insisted. "Not as long as you're part of them."
Doug looked around the shabby room. He jumped at the sight of a police officer at the double door of the entrance chamber. He turned his shoulder to the officer and found Bobbi staring curiously into his eyes.
"Are you sure everything is all right, Doug?"
"Of course I'm sure," he said sharply. Then he managed a smile. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be this jumpy."
"You haven't any doubts about getting married, have you?" she said.
He clutched her hands tightly. "Don't think that even for a second. It isn't that at all. Well ... well, it's just that I'm afraid of my mother. You see, honey, you don't know that woman."
"Could she stop the marriage?"
Doug sighed. "She could probably stop the national elections if she put her mind to it. I'm telling you, she's superhuman ... a black magician, and she scares the hell out of me."
Bobbi patted his hand. "She won't come between us, Doug. We won't let her."
Then their names were called and they were swept into marriage. The aging judge read a few biblical words and mechanically recited the vows. The lovers stood together with mouths open in the realization that they were actually wed. Doug self-consciously pecked Bobbi on the lips as the frowning judge watched. Then he paid the fee and they went out on the street. They looked at each other and then at the marriage certificate in Bobbi's hand. The two of them laughed. Doug said, "Most people try to remember the details of their wedding ceremonies all through the years. We'll have to work hard to forget ours."
"We don't care, Doug," she said, putting her arm around his shoulder.
He put his arms around her waist. "Hello, Mrs. Douglas King."
They kissed with feeling. The pedestrians stepped around them on the busy noontime sidewalk.
Doug and Bobbi walked gaily along the sidewalk in search of a place to eat. The certificate was safely filed in Bobbi's purse. They were man and wife and nothing could ever change it.
They found a small tea room and the waitress even smiled at them. This was a good sign. They ordered lunch and smiled across the table at each other as they waited. Doug silently mouthed the words, "I love you."
"I love you too."
Bobbi studied Doug silently for a moment. Then she said, "Dad would have loved you, Doug. You're his kind of man."
He took a deep breath as he absorbed her words. "Where would you like to live?" he asked.
"I hadn't thought about it," she said. "Anywhere as long as it isn't King's Cove."
"We'll look around," he said.
After lunch they headed back to the dock. They passed the court house and crossed the street. When they reached the edge of the narrow lawn the boat came into view. Doug suddenly stopped. Bobbi looked ahead and saw a group of people standing near the boat. "What is it?" she asked.
"Hmmm ... oh, nothing at all ... but I just got a brainstorm. What do you say we leave the boat behind for a few days? Well never be able to dock when there's a decent honeymoon hotel anywhere. We can take a bus."
"Whatever you say, Doug," she agreed.
As they started away from the wharf Doug glanced in all directions. Bobbi became aware that something was definitely wrong. She stopped him before they started across the street. "Doug," she said, "please, darling, please tell me what's wrong. I have a right to know."
"Come on, honey, let's go."
"I must know, Doug. I love you, darling, but I simply have to know what is bothering you."
She saw anger rise in his eyes. "There's nothing wrong, damn it! How many times do I have to tell you that? Now are you coming with me or not?"
Instantly she felt tears well in her eyes. She didn't want to act like a spoiled child, but the shock of Doug's sudden explosion cut into her like a jagged knife.
"Look, honey," he said in anguish, "you just have to trust me is all. I didn't mean to blast you, but there's a reason. It's just that I don't want to lose you."
"You won't lose me," she said weakly. "How can you? We're married."
"You don't understand ... you just don't understand," he cried out. "Now, please, darling, if you love me, come along with me now."
She did love him and she would go along with him. If she knew what was bothering him she might be able to help, but if he preferred not to tell her she would accept that too.
The bus station was several blocks from the lake front. Doug was silent as he led his bride toward the Greyhound sign. When they were inside the waiting room he led Bobbi to a seat near the door. He reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of money. "I'll be right back," he told her and went to the ticket window. Bobbi heard him ask the departure time of the next bus to the west.
When he returned to the seat a loud speaker announced that bus number nine was loading. The dispatcher listed the stops en route. "Come on, honey," he said. "That's us."
Doug gave the driver their tickets and started to the bus.
"Hold on there," the bus driver called after him. Doug froze. The driver walked over to him and handed Doug the punched tickets. "You'll need these," he advised.
Doug was perspiring profusely, and Bobbi noticed his genuine sigh of relief as he accepted the tickets. They boarded the bus and Doug selected seats near the rear. He looked at the other passengers and leaned over Bobbi to view the outside. "What do you suppose is holding it up anyway?"
Bobbi didn't respond. There was nothing to say. They had only waited a minute or two and people were still boarding the bus.
Another five minutes passed before they finally pulled out of the loading ramp. Doug watched anxiously as they approached the business district. Soon they were on the open highway and Doug settled back for the first time.
He tried to restore his carefree mood, but it didn't quite come off. After they had ridden no more than ten minutes the bus suddenly pulled off the highway. Doug jumped to his feet to look ahead. Bobbi joined him. A police car was parked ahead of them. The bus door opened and two officers boarded. They moved toward the back, examining each passenger. Doug slumped down in the seat. "Are you Douglas King?" an officer asked.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bobbi and Doug were driven back to Dorsey in the police car. Doug stared vacantly overhead. He ignored Bobbi's questions. She asked the officers what they would be charged with, but they refused to give any information. "What's the matter?" she cried. "We have a right to know what we've done."
One of the policemen finally said, "The boy knows what he has done."
"Darling," she begged, "Please speak to me. Tell me what this is about."
Without looking at her, he said, "The demon has finally possessed us. Before she's finished, her withering breath of fire will reduce us to nothing but cinders and ashes."
"Doug, please," she implored, "maybe I can help if you'll say what you've done."
"I could have driven a wedge into the vampire's heart ... I wish I had."
"Did you do something to your mother?"
He refused to answer. In frustration, Bobbi began to cry. The car parked behind the city hall and they were taken into the police station. Doug was ushered into the booking room, but Bobbi was led toward a stairway. "No!" she cried, "I want to stay with my husband."
Her attempt to follow him was thwarted by her escorting officer. She was shown upstairs and into a room with a desk and several filing cabinets. "Sit down, Miss," said the officer. "Someone will be in to talk to you in a few minutes."
Bobbi paced back and forth across the floor of the office, and paused momentarily at the barred windows. She could see the dock from the window. She saw the yellow boat still tied there. As she studied the glistening craft she was able to momentarily recapture the feeling she'd had there those hours before. The souvenir of her memory would never leave her.
In a few minutes two detectives entered the room. One of them sat on the edge of the desk, and asked Bobbi to sit down. She despondently followed the order, but made up her mind to say nothing to incriminate Doug. "I want to be with my husband," she said.
The detective took her purse, and emptied it on the desk. He opened the marriage license. "It's too bad, we didn't catch up with you a little sooner, but it can be annulled."
"Annulled? I don't want our marriage annulled."
The detective rapped the folded certificate against the palm of his hand. "How long have you known this boy?"
"What difference does it make? I love him. I'm married to him."
The detective frowned.
"Will you please tell me what we've done?"
"You really don't know?"
"Of course I don't."
"For one thing," he sighed, "grand theft, two counts. That should be a starter."
"Grand theft of what?" she demanded.
The detective looked to his partner. "I have an idea she doesn't know." The other man nodded. The one seated on the desk then said, "How did King explain the cabin cruiser?"
"He told me that it belonged to his mother's lawyer ... A Mr. Porter, I believe."
The other detective said, "The boat belongs to a man named Devries. A neighbor called Devries and he reported its theft."
"It can't be true ... Doug told me...."
There was a long silence as the two men studied Bobbi. The one sitting on the desk asked: "Did you know that Douglas King served time for robbery?"
"I don't believe it!"
"It's in the record, Miss." After studying Bobbi, he said, "Do you know how he got the money for your trip?"
Bobbi shook her head.
"He beat up his mother, tied her to a chair, and stole more than five hundred dollars from a wall safe." Bobbi wasn't aware of it at first, but she must have fainted. An officer was helping her drink a cup of water. She started to rise and an arm assisted her to a chair.
"Take it easy, Miss. I'm sorry, but everything we said is true."
She closed her eyes as though to shut out the ugliness. She heard a voice ask where she lived. Another asked if she lived with her parents. She gave no answers. She wanted to be locked away in a jail cell. They could let her die there if they wanted. She didn't care.
After a few more minutes a new voice came from the door. "Here it is, 37 Marine Street in King's Cove."
Bobbi wondered where they found her address and then she remembered the marriage application.
One of the detectives left the room, and when Bobbi opened her eyes again he was re-entering.
"I've just spoken to the prosecutor, Miss," he said to her. "He said we could let you go."
She rose shakily to her feet.
"Wait a minute," said one of the men, "we have to turn you over to a parent, or someone who will accept responsibility. Then you'll have to promise to cooperate with us."
"What does that mean?"
"You will be asked to tell the truth."
"What if I don't?"
"Then we have to hold you."
"Is Doug being held?"
"Yes."
"Then go ahead and lock me up."
The detectives looked at each other. "It means you'd be booked," one of them said.
"Do your job. Go ahead and book me. Beat me with a hose if you want."
Doug had lied to her. He had told her he spent a year at a military school. Now Bobbi knew that the military school had been a reformatory. That had been one lie. How many others had there been?
By the time another hour had passed Bobbi regretted this line of thought. So Doug had lied about the reformatory. He had also lied about the boat, but it didn't matter. As she recalled, their moments together were the one thing she was sure of. She was certain that he loved her. Nothing else really mattered.
She was left alone for another hour before she was finally escorted to the downstairs desk. There she was met by her tearful mother. Tony Breck stood nearby. Bobbi didn't resist when she was led off to Tony's police car. As soon as they were inside the sedan, Ethel's act subsided.
"We've got you now, lamby pie," said Ethel.
Tony turned around from the front seat. "You've been turned over to my care, princess. I plan to care for you real good."
The long drive to King's Cove was filled with admonitions and threats, but the final message was to let Bobbi know that the same thing would happen if she tried again. They made their point, but Bobbi didn't , care. She wouldn't attempt running away again until Doug was at her side. Everything depended upon what happened to him.
When they reached the apartment Bobbi refused Ethel's offer of a drink, and closed herself in her bedroom. For a long time she paced back and forth trying to collect her thoughts. What would happen now? When would they initiate her properly into her new profession? Tonight? She would just as soon begin now as to wonder when the first customer would be. She was resigned to her fate. There was no Doug to save her from them, and she would have to stay in King's Cove if she wanted to help him.
She could stand anything if there was hope of helping Doug. Yes, she could stand even that. They wouldn't look like Doug. They wouldn't feel like Doug, but she would try to hold his picture in her mind. It wouldn't make the experience exactly pleasant, but she could stand it.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed when she heard a knock on the outside front door. She half listened, wondering if it might be her first customer. She wasn't able to hear what was being said, but now and then she heard her name being mentioned. The voice seemed vaguely familiar. She opened her door slightly. She heard Ethel say, "Now you better get out of here or I'll have you arrested. She ain't here, and I already told you she don't want to talk to you."
Bobbi looked out and saw Paul Mason on the porch. Just as Ethel was about to close the door, Bobbi called, "Wait! What did you want?" she asked as she came to the door.
"I have to talk to you, Bobbi," he said. "It's important."
Bobbi turned to her" mother. "I'm going outside. I'll be back in a minute."
Ethel grumbled an objection but didn't try to stop her. Bobbi walked down the steps with Paul and spoke as they passed the grocery. "Why did you come here, Paul?" she said. "How did you find me?"
"I came because I had to. Finding you wasn't easy. I finally got the juvenile judge to give me your address."
They stopped at the guardrail at the end of the street. Paul leaned back and looked at her. "I guess you hate me, don't you?"
She shook her head. "No ... I don't. I only want to forget."
"Well, I had to tell you I had nothing to do with anything Tom Sebastian told you. He told me afterward that he had threatened to get me and several other guys to swear we had gone to bed with you, if you pressed him on the paternity suit."
"That's true," she said.
"Look ... Tom never knew about you and me," he said. "I never told him."
Bobbi dreaded calling back the chain of sickening events. It was just one more series of black thoughts to cripple her thinking. Anyway, Paul's chapter was no longer important. "All right, Paul," she said. "Is that all you had on your mind?"
"No," he said, taking her hands in his, "not quite all. I want you to believe that ... and there's more. I'm in love with you, Bobbi. I was hoping we could try to get your baby back. If we can, I'd like you to marry me."
Bobbi felt her mouth open in astonishment. For a long moment she couldn't speak at all. Then, after a long, futile sigh: "You're a bit late, Paul," she said.
"The baby is gone. I signed him away, and lost all claim to him. I'm also a married woman."
"You're what?"
"I was married this morning."
"But to whom? I don't get it. You've only been here a couple of days. What did you do, marry the first guy who asked you? Just to get out of that ... that house."
"No!" she said angrily. T married a fine young man. Someone I love very much."
Paul started to say something more in excitement, but bit his lip to restrain himself. Bobbi watched the handsome, blond-haired man and wondered if she would have married him, had he asked her before. Yes ... she would have gladly. But that was then. At the time she was desperately in need of a father for her baby. They had a night together in a motel and for a time she had considered launching an effort along such lines, but it didn't come about that night. Paul went back to college the next day and she hadn't seen him again until now. But she had heard of him. Tom Sebastian said he knew about her intimacy with Paul and would see that Paul would testify in his behalf if the case went to court. Tom was probably lying, and Paul could be telling the truth right now. But what did it matter? It was too late ... much too late.
Paul turned away from her and gazed out over the moonlit sea. Soon he faced her again. "I've been asking around," he said, "and I was told pretty damaging things about your mother."
"Everything you heard was true," she said bitterly. "But that's no concern of yours Paul. You'll be doing me a big favor if you just leave ... I just want to be left alone."
He nodded. "I'll have to leave by Monday. I'm selling now, and I'm a bit off course, I'm afraid. But look, I'll be staying at the Captain's Quarters Motel tonight and tomorrow night. If you need me ... please call, Bobbi. It doesn't matter what you ask. I'll do anything I can to help."
She believed that Paul was really sincere. She forced a smile. "That's kind of you," she said. "Maybe I've misjudged you, Paul. I hope you'll find a nice girl and have a happy life. I mean that."
He smiled and touched her cheek. "Good luck, Bobbi," he said. "Your good breaks will come. Try to wait them out."
She thanked him and went back to the apartment.
Ethel was still fuming. "I told that square to scram. I knew you wouldn't want to see him."
"For once, you were right," Bobbi said, crossing toward her room.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She was exhausted. She expected interruptions to begin almost anytime, but she would still try to get some sleep. It wasn't late. It was Saturday. What might this night bring? As she settled down in the bed she let her preoccupation with Doug hang in limbo. She had to retrace her steps with Paul Mason.
Tom Sebastian had promised to see her that night, but hadn't shown up. She knew he was avoiding her, because she had hinted several times what was on her mind. Then when Paul showed up, she thought Tom might have sent him. Paul insisted that he hadn't even seen Tom, but Bobbi didn't believe him.
She was lonely, worried, and destitute. Besides these tumults of mind, she was also angry at Tom. If he had sent Paul to take her off his hands she would go out with him. Maybe she thought it would make Tom jealous. Now she wasn't sure what the motive had been, but the moment they were in the car, she said, "I suppose you'll find a nice quiet field somewhere. Got a blanket?"
"No," said Paul, without showing shock. "I'm more a motel man anyway."
Maybe he was joking, but she wasn't. "Okay then ... why waste time?"
Paul sent her several glances. "Are you kidding me?"
"Of course not. Let's get to the motel and get it over with. No sense spending money on the frills."
"Look," he said, "I'm human. If you want to go to a motel I'll take you up on it, but I wasn't planning to press you into something you didn't want to do. I don't judge you by what went on with Tom. He's notorious when it comes to maiden conquests."
"I'd rather not discuss Tom, if you don't mind," she said, snuggling over on his side of the car and putting a hand on his leg.
Paul took her cue and registered at the first motel they came to. In a few more minutes they were inside grinding together in an urgent embrace. Paul broke from their kiss. "I'll undress you," he said, showing his rising passion.
"Okay," she said, lying back brazenly on the bed. "You're calling the shots."
She recalled her inner fury at that moment. She was blazing inside. Everyone in town had labeled her a whore anyway, so she was ready to live the role. She helped Paul remove her blouse, her skirt, and one by one unfasten her stockings from her garter belt. He rolled them gently down her legs. He paused to kiss her knee. "You're a beautiful girl, Bobbi," he whispered.
She unhooked her garter belt, and as he removed it, she undid her bra catch. He came up to peel the filmy bra away from her body. As he discarded it, he moved his mouth down on a nipple and worked its tip with his tongue. She was ready. Her fires had already been stoked by anger. She clutched his head, and growled a call for fulfillment. A moment later he slipped her panties from her hips and moved into place. They became one.
She was successful in her lovemaking. Even under these poor conditions her wild passions brought fulfillment. This was her undoing, wasn't it? Her libido just wouldn't quit. Now as she lay in her mother's apartment trying to sleep, she recalled that her love fires had even been ignited by a transient jerk; a coarse vulgarian she didn't even know. It was like that with Paul too. Of course he was far from undesirable. He was handsome, refined, and gentle, but she was in love with Tom Sebastian then. Paul Mason should have been as taboo as the man who took her while she was drunk.
After the first time with Paul, she recalled in detail her brazen overture to give her date something to really remember. It was something she had only heard of. In fact, she had seen a photograph once of a woman doing this to a man. Vi had shown it to her. When she had seen the picture of this, and the other picture of the same act being committed by the man, she had been repulsed. But that night with Paul it came to mind as the perfect dessert to top off his sexual feast.
At first he pushed her away in shock, but she wasn't to be denied. She pursued him, and finally brought it off. She expected him to hit her afterward, and this would have pleased her. Instead, he honored her by returning the gesture. This caught her off guard and added to her night of insanity. She recalled ending the date in a wild binge of sobbing and tears.
She felt humiliated and cheap. She wanted to tell Paul what her relationship with Tom was producing inside her, but she couldn't. For a time in the motel room, Paul's extreme adulation almost made her change her tack. He professed his love that night, and said he didn't care that Tom had been first. He said he wanted to get to know her better after his graduation. Bobbi had been tempted then to grab him, and pretend that he fathered her child. She had grown callous over the previous months, but not completely rotten. She couldn't go through with it.
The only thing Bobbi felt good about before sleep came was that Paul was really as nice as she had once imagined. When Tom tried to include him in his defense plans, Bobbi had believed the story. She hated Paul as much as Tom. Paul was telling the truth tonight. He did love her. It was comforting to know. It proved she could be forgiven for the crudest possible behavior by someone who loved her. Maybe this was a good omen for her future with Doug. Maybe he too could forgive her for the things she had failed to tell him. She was counting on it. They would be back together again somehow, and when they were, she would see that the filthy slate was wiped clean. She fell asleep with these thoughts.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Church bells woke Bobbi. It was Sunday morning. Somehow she had actually been allowed a full night's sleep. She was relieved by this thought, but almost at once her other worries returned to besiege her.
She got out of bed and went to the window. She looked over the unkempt back yards and alleys behind Marine Street. It was a different view from what she had known at home, but everything was different. When Tom Sebastian came along everything turned gray. When her father died everything changed to black.
She looked back over the days she had spent in King's Cove. It seemed impossible that so much had happened in so short a time. She had lived with animals and had watched them perform their animal acts. She had felt the animal claws scratching at her own body. But then she had found love.
Bobbi looked into the mirror after removing her pajamas. She crossed her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes. She tried desperately to conjure up a perfect image of Doug. She concentrated on recapturing the feel of his hands over her body; the feel of his vitality deep within her. This was their honeymoon. She was entitled to at least a living memory. He didn't come. Even in her memory he stayed away from her. She suddenly felt chilled ... alone.
Bobbi let her arms fall and turned away from her image. Since her dreams had failed, she reduced her thinking to the necessities of the moment. A task lay ahead of her that she had refused to even contemplate until now. She would shower and dress and walk across town. She would climb the hill to the yellow house and meet her notorious mother-in-law.
She wasn't afraid of the woman. She was afraid of herself.
Bobbi knew there were usually two sides to a story. There possibly were people who would stand up for Mrs. King. They might say that Doug got what he deserved. Bobbi would listen to the stories as they came her way. She would weigh each word, but before arriving at her first sympathetic conclusion she would have to counter with what she knew to be true. Perhaps these people, whoever they might be, hadn't undressed with Doug. Perhaps they hadn't seen the welts across his body. Before their first love Bobbi had seen them. During their love she had felt them. The wounds were fresh. They certainly weren't self-inflicted. Bobbi finished her shower and dressed without waking her snoring mother. She felt relieved at having been spared this conflict.
Bobbi left quickly and walked up Marine Street, then went west on Elm. She had eggs at the hotel coffee shop on Main Street, and as she ate she periodically glanced at herself in the mirror across the counter. If she looked worthy of her son, Mrs. King might be a little more agreeable. Bobbi wore a white linen skirt and a blue linen blazer trimmed in white. Under the blazer, she wore a conservative white blouse. Her hair was in its usual ponytail. She looked neat. That was what mattered. She paid for her breakfast and resumed her walk toward the hill.
By the time she reached the iron fence, she was out of breath. Her legs ached from the long walk in high heels, but she straightened and opened the gate.
The King home was a huge, three story box with grotesquely sagging shutters. The windows had drawn shades. The trim under the eaves was fancy with the curlicues considered stylish many years ago. Although the house gave the impression of being yellow from a distance, a closer look showed that most of the paint had long since given way to the elements. Doug had described the place as looking like a haunted house. He was right.
She was here now. She couldn't back down. She went to the door and used the fancy brass knocker. She held her breath and in a few minutes the door opened. A well-dressed, gray haired man stood before her. He studied her without speaking.
"I ... uh ... may I speak to Mrs. King?" she said.
The handsome man stepped outside and closed the door behind him. "That's impossible," he said nervously. "You must be Bobbi."
"Yes," she said courageously. "I must speak to Doug's mother."
"Mrs. King is dressing now, but she won't see you."
"She has to," she pleaded. "I want to talk to her about her son."
"It won't do any good. She would never receive visitors on Sunday anyway."
"You're here. She must see you on Sunday."
"My name is Porter," he said. "I happen to handle Mrs. King's legal affairs. Otherwise she wouldn't even admit me."
"Doug told me about you. He said you were a friend of his."
"I am his friend, and whether you know it or not, I'm your friend too. I was planning to come by your house later in the day. Why don't you go home and wait for me?"
"I'm curious, Mr. Porter," said Bobbi, feeling her voice beginning to cloud with emotion, "just how did Mrs. King buy you?"
He drew a deep breath and stared at his accuser. "You're a lovely girl, Bobbi, and I believe that you would have been right for Doug, but you haven't a chance. Mrs. King wants me to see that you sign the necessary papers for an annullment."
"You don't think I'll sign them, do you?"
"Under the circumstances, yes. If you don't, you'll never see Douglas again. Mrs. King will see that he ;s punished to the limit of the law. You may not know it, but he's on parole. With his violation of parole along with the other charges he could receive a minimum of three years in the penitentiary. Even then she would see that you're kept apart."
Bobbi felt weak. "She would do that to her own son?"
"She would."
"How can you, a lawyer," cried Bobbi, "how can you as a man ... a human being ... allow such injustice?"
He pulled himself a bit straighter. "My hands are tied. I can do nothing."
"You're an insult to your profession. It's obvious that Mrs. King is insane. What's your excuse?"
"You could simplify everything by signing a statement that you and Doug never carried out the marriage act. It's that simple."
"No, Mr. Porter, it's not that simple. We did carry out the marital act, and we did it more than once. I'll never lie about that."
"You'll be destroying your husband."
"I realize what I'll be doing if I agree to your nasty scheme. I'd rather see Doug in jail than caught up in his mother's trap. If I know Doug, he'd rather be dead."
"Let me ask you this; would you give Doug his freedom if we reimbursed you for your inconvenience?"
"Pay me off?" Bobbi cried. "Does Mrs. King want to buy back her whipping boy?"
"I'm authorized to offer you ten thousand dollars. You could have it in cash today, if you leave King's Cove for good."
"How dare you!" she cried. How dare you even make the proposal?"
Before she could think further she saw a smile begin to spread across Porter's face. "Thanks," he said, taking her shoulders in both hands. "Now I know you're sincere about Douglas. That's what I had to find out."
"I don't understand."
"I don't either, but I agree that the old witch has gone too far this time. I intend to break my own umbilical cord and liberate Douglas too."
"You'll help me then?"
"We'll help each other. Let's go in."
Bobbi followed Porter into the house. Her breath caught at the sight of the interior. The carpet they walked on was worn to the boards. The doors to the rooms off the hall were open. The furniture was covered with once-white sheets. Now they were dark gray from their heavy layers of dust. .
"The living quarters are upstairs," Porter said.
They crossed to the staircase, and Bobbi looked up. She saw Mrs. King for the first time. Her huge frame was erect as she stared coldly down on them. She wore a white blouse, and a black skirt which hung to her feet. Her hair was drawn into a severe bun on top of her head. But her eyes, her cold, cruel eyes, held Bobbi's attention. Even the distance between her and the woman failed to dim the intensity of the stare.
"Get out of this house," Mrs. King said, scarcely moving her lips. The authority in her low voice made Bobbi tremble inside.
"The young lady wished to speak to you, Mrs. King," said Porter hesitantly.
"I have nothing to say to her."
Bobbi took a deep breath, straightened, and gazed up the stairs.
Mrs. King stood fast. "Porter, I told you to remove this harlot from my house. Do as you're told."
"I think you should see her, Mrs. King," said Porter.
The woman centered her stare at Porter momentarily and then turned and walked toward the nearest door. Porter took Bobbi's hand and followed the woman into the sitting room. Mrs. King sat in an antique rocker near the window. Bobbi moved to her. "I'm here to ask you to help your son," she said.
Mrs. King looked at Porter. "Did you speak to her?"
"Yes, I did," he replied. "She refuses to sign. I believe she's sincerely in love with Douglas."
"Mrs. King," said Bobbi calmly, "I am not what you seem to think. I was brought up by my father. He was a fine, decent man. I'm in love with Doug, and I believe we could be happy together."
Mrs. King faced Bobbi directly. "Love ... how could you know the meaning of love? To you and your kind, love is something to be bought with a five dollar bill. Because of you, my son raised his hand to me. He tied me to a chair and left me alone to die. He stole from me. You were the cause."
"No, Mrs. King, you're wrong. You are to blame for Doug's problems. If you had given him a decent home with love and understanding he would be a different person. You may consider him bad, but he isn't. He's a fine, intelligent young man, who is crying for someone to love him. You may think he's failed you, but it isn't true. You're the one who has failed him." ,Mrs. King gripped the arms of her chair. "Get out!"
"Why don't you give Doug a chance for once? Why not let him show what he's made of? You'll never know his capabilities if you keep him locked up in this prison."
Mrs. King's mouth turned white with anger. "You're an example of what freedom does for Douglas. The minute he strays from home he takes up with a common streetwalker."
Bobbi faltered and stepped back. She shouldn't have. She knew she should never have given ground.
Mrs. King rose and stood over her. "That red light on Marine Street glows like a beacon. A beacon to attract sinners of the flesh. It welcomes fornicators, degenerates, and carnal demons into the folds of your flesh. You open your arms and embrace these disciples of the devil. You laugh and revel in the sensuosity of their animal bodies. I've seen sin. I've seen women like you. Of course you love my boy. Why shouldn't you? Why wouldn't you love his pure, virgin body? But I tell you now, young woman, before I'll let my boy's flesh be contaminated by yours ... I'll let him die in prison. If he gets out ... I'll kill him myself."
Bobbi took the attack without retreating further. "You may not know it, Mrs. King, but your son and I are legally married. We've already lived together as man and wife. It's too late to worry about his contamination."
Mrs. King looked at Bobbi incredulously. Her lips began to tremble. "You're lying!"
"We were intimate on two occasions before we got married, and I'm proud of it."
The woman seemed to fall apart. She started in one direction, and suddenly in another. She walked in short, choppy steps around the room. Finally she reached behind the piano and brought out a long, black stick. She came toward Bobbi with the stick raised high. "Hold her, Porter, hold her!" the woman commanded.
He stepped in front of Bobbi. "Put the stick down, Mrs. King," he said.
"You do as I say," she said to him, still holding the stick. "This daughter of the devil must be punished. In my own house, she lied to me, and on Sunday. I want you to strip her naked so the stick will drive the spoiled flesh free of its demons."
"No, Mrs. King," said Porter. "I never approved of your beating Douglas, and I'm not going to be a party to your assault of this girl."
"I'll destroy you. I'll have Tony Breck fix you for good. Now step aside!"
"Give me the stick."
She began beating Porter about the head. He reached up to take the stick from her grasp, and they began to grapple. The incredible woman held her own as they struggled over to her rocking chair. She pushed heavily and Porter fell back over the chair. He struck his head against the floor and didn't get up. He was unconscious.
Bobbi felt panic sweep over her as the woman approached. She wasn't being confronted by a human being, but some sort of superhuman monster. She had used the term monster before in thinking of Mrs. King, but only now did she realize it was really true. "Don't!" cried Bobbi. Don't come near me."
"That soft, silken body houses the horns of a thousand devils. I'll help you now. I'll drive you free of them."
"You're sick ... you're insane! Let me alone!"
Before Bobbi could lift her hand in defense the stick came down against her head. She reached up for the weapon, but found the woman's arm around her neck. With the strength of a wrestler, the woman clutched Bobbi's face against her monstrous breast. Bobbi choked for air. Now her battle was for more than control of the stick; she suddenly found herself struggling to gain enough oxygen to stay alive. She knew she was being undressed, but she was helpless. Her jacket was gone. The blouse was torn from her back, but Mrs. King was far from finished. She kept pulling and mauling until every piece of clothing was torn from Bobbi's back. When she was finally released, Bobbi fell to the floor.
When enough air returned to her lungs it was too late. She was lying on her back. She opened her eyes in time to see the stick falling over her body. It bit into her stomach with a searing pain. She tried to roll into a ball for protection, but her tormentor wouldn't allow it. Mrs. King kicked her face back with her shoe and began beating the front of Bobbi's lower body. Bobbi felt the excruciating bite of the stick as it tore into the skin below her stomach. She cried out as the sickening pain seared.
"I'll cut it out!" she wailed between strokes. "I'll drive my son's seed from your filthy body ... I'll save you from ensnaring another child of purity ... I'll deliver you from temptation."
The beating stopped. Bobbi was nearly unconscious, but was able to open her eyes. She saw Mr. Porter holding the woman's neck in an arm lock. Her cruel eyes bulged as she tried to free herself. Porter yanked the stick away from her and then let her go. He stepped back as she advanced toward him. She sounded like a wheezing animal as she stalked toward him.
"Calm down, Mrs. King," he said breathlessly. "Please don't make me hit you."
"The devil has you too," she cried.
Mrs. King was having trouble breathing as she continued to plod toward him. By the time Porter was backed into the comer she suddenly stopped. With her back to Bobbi, the huge woman clutched her chest. A stifled cry came from her as she fell to her knees. The room shook with the vibration from her fall. Then she fell the rest of the way, with her face slamming into the floor. She held a rigid pose for only a moment before she rolled over to her side.
Bobbi crawled to her knees to hear Mr. Porter's verdict. He felt the woman's pulse and let the hand drop. "I think she's dead," he said. "I'd better call the police."
While Porter was telephoning, Bobbi crawled painfully around on the floor trying to retrieve some of her clothing. Her body was covered with the same kind of welts she had seen on Doug. She attempted to fasten her broken bra, but her final strength drained from her body. She knew she was slumping to the floor, but she couldn't help herself. She fainted.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The pain that caused Bobbi to lose consciousness, seemed also to be the cause of her awakening. She opened her eyes to see a circle of faces standing over her nude body. A man was ministering to her wounds. "Who are you ... please?" she cried weakly, trying to cover herself.
"It's all right, Bobbi," she heard a friendly voice say. She looked higher overhead to see the face of Mr. Porter. "The doctor's trying to help you. The other men are police officers."
Bobbi examined the three faces gazing down at her. They seemed concerned only with her welfare. She had a picture of the local police through her acquaintance with Tony Breck. These men didn't seem to fit that picture.
Bobbi's anguish was overshadowed once more by the incredible burning sensation of her lower body.
She almost blacked out again as the doctor spread some kind of salve on her wounds. When he was through the doctor pushed a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket. He was a small man; slightly bald. "I'll leave you something for the pain. You'll be all right in a day or so. But you should take things easy."
The conclave left her side then and went across the room to the covered form of Mrs. King. Porter had obviously told them most of what happened, but he repeated the details of how he fell over the chair and was momentarily knocked unconscious. He deduced that her own excitement had been the cause of her fatal heart attack. He told the officers she had not been struck once during the entire melee.
As the men discussed Mrs. King and the events leading up to her death, Bobbi learned that the officers were sheriff's deputies. She felt relieved. She heard them mention Tony and his power in King's Cove. All of them seemed to know Tony's power in the town and they all seemed interested in the prospect of finally removing Tony from his reign.
The county coroner declared Mrs. King dead. He mentioned that an inquest would be in order, and would leave no doubt in anyone's mind about the cause of death.
The body was carried from the house and Bobbi was left alone with Mr. Porter. He left the room while Bobbi did her best to get dressed. Everything was torn except her jacket.
When Mr. Porter returned to the room, Bobbi asked him why Mrs. King allowed her mother to continue operations on Marine Street. Bobbi had thought that the house was something that Mrs. King didn't know about. He said that he suspected that she had Tony turn over the names of people who frequented the place. She, in turn, would do all she could to punish them. If they were local people she would invent some way to dispossess them. Tony went along because it provided him opportunities for bribery. Over the years there were hundreds of private swindles and injustices perpetrated in Mrs. King's domain. Since she owned practically the entire town, almost every citizen was under her control.
Bobbi asked Porter how he could allow such miscarriages of justice to continue. He sighed and walked slowly across the room. "She owned me too," he finally replied.
Porter didn't go into detail, but Bobbi at least had her answer. Perhaps it didn't justify his action, but it explained it.
He pointed out that Mrs. King picked all of her people this way. If she didn't have something to hold over them she would make things up. He said he was fairly certain that Doug hadn't tied her up and beaten her. From what he had gathered she had tried to stop Doug when she saw he was leaving the house. The story was probably a fabrication to get him back.
Now that Mrs. King was dead, Porter said he thought he could get Doug out of jail. He said he knew Devries fairly well, and was sure he could get him to drop the theft charges. The other charges were only hearsay. He said the only problem lay with the probation department. Doug had to deal with them also.
Bobbi asked how Doug got into his previous trouble. Porter told her that Doug had run away from home. Mrs. King pressed charges against him that time too. On her demand the full penalty was administered. She wanted to prove to Doug that she had a firm hold over him so he wouldn't try to leave her again. Porter doubted that Doug would ever have left her if it hadn't been for meeting Bobbi.
"Mr. Porter, I want you to believe something, I love Doug very much, and I'm not like my mother."
"I know that," he said. "Mrs. King knew about you too. Tony told her you weren't like your mother."
"Then why did she call me all those horrible names?"
"She couldn't accept the fact that you were a decent person. She refused to believe the truth."
Bobbi told Porter that her mother and Tony intended to use her in the house and that she was being held prisoner for that reason. She asked what her next move should be.
"Tony's had it now," he said. "He'll believe it too when he learns of Mrs. King's death. Doug, as her only heir, will have the power his mother had. He'll see that Tony is dealt with properly."
"Could Doug's life be in danger?" Bobbi asked.
"Tony wouldn't go that far, but we'll have to watch him closely."
"Mr. Porter ... when do you think Doug could get out of jail?"
"I'll drive up to Dorsey Tuesday and see what can be arranged. I'll go tomorrow if the inquest is over in time. Once the circumstances are heard there's a good chance his probation will be dropped."
"I hope so. I miss him terribly."
Mr. Porter smiled. "I'm sure you do, Bobbi. After a pause, he suggested that Bobbi stay with him and Mrs. Porter for a few days.
"I don't think I'll be in further danger at my mother's apartment. If she thinks I married into money, she'll be too busy trying to figure out a way to get in on it."
"That's a point," said Mr. Porter, "but maybe Tony will have other ideas."
"I think I should take the chance. If I'm there, I'll know what they're both up to. Maybe they shouldn't know you and I are working together."
"What you should do is take things easy."
"I'll be all right ... I'm sure of it."
"I'll keep tabs on you frequently to make sure you're all right."
He drove Bobbi to Marine Street and left her with the promise to keep her informed of any new developments regarding Doug. She thanked him and painfully climbed the apartment steps.
Bobbi found the apartment empty. She went to her apartment to get a change of clothes. Every time she bent over her wounds brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't help but think of the beatings Doug must have taken all through his life. She would devote her life to helping him forget his ugly past.
Bobbi was about to come out of her room when she heard the front door open. She recognized the voices of her mother, Gus, and Tony. Tony was saying that Porter had called in the sheriffs office and that his office was only given a second hand report.
"Are you sure the old bat's dead?" Ethel said.
"Sure, I'm sure," said Tony. "They're havin' a coroner's inquest in the mornin'. They say the cause was a heart attack."
Gus said: "Say, Ethel, your daughter's a rich bitch. Did you know that? The marriage is legal, so Douglas is the heir and she's his wife."
"I never thought of that!" exclaimed Ethel. "Say ... I'm gonna have to be real nice to my lovin' little girl."
"There's something else you haven't thought of," said Tony. "Now that the old girl is dead, her kid is gonna be sprung so fast it ain't gonna be funny. Have you ever thought what it would be like to have him holdin' the reins? That loony punk will have the same power his old lady had."
"That wouldn't be good, would it?" Ethel mused.
"He'd have us behind bars in twenty-four hours. He knows plenty, believe me," said Tony.
"Got a plan?" asked Gus.
"We gotta work fast. We gotta get him to break jail."
When Bobbi heard this she gripped the door frame to steady herself. Then she heard Gus say: "You mean he'd never get off the hook then, and with him in stir, we can engineer the loot away from the princess?"
"That's not exactly what I mean," said Tony. T mean that once he gets out of jail, we gotta see that we get to him. He'll be killed resisting arrest."
"We'll handle Little Miss Somebody ourselves," Ethel said.
"That's the idea," said Tony. "The big problem is to bust him out. It won't be easy. I'm not very big in Dorsey."
"I could set it up," said Gus. "I know a trusty on the work crew. For a price I could get something moving."
"We gotta make him wanta get outta there bad," said Tony.
"I got an idea," said Gus. "We'll pass the word that the princess has been forced to take up the trade. That should make him a little nervous."
"Good," said Tony. "Look, you're in for a third share of whatever cash we pick up. It should be plenty. I know there's plenty in the safe at the house."
"Wait a minute," said Ethel. "If the cash is at the house, why not just grab it and run?"
Tony said: "Huh uh. That's not enough for me. I want this town. When we get the girl trained right you'll take over Ethel. It'll be easy street from then on in. Here's the deal, Gus. I'll arrange for you to get in to see the King kid tomorrow. Give him the story. Then see that your trusty pal helps spring the kid. He'll be ready to crash."
"I think it'll work," said Gus.
"If not, we'll think of something else. We can't let this deal slip through our fingers."
"Say, boys," said Ethel, "I'm dry as a bone. Let's go down to the bar and get a long cool one."
"The drinks are on me," Gus said. They left the apartment.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Bobbi was sure she would be caught, but when she wasn't, she hurriedly dressed to leave the apartment. Mr. Porter would help her. He would be the first person to contact. If he couldn't be found she would try to find Paul Mason. Paul had offered to help her and she needed plenty of it right now.
As she started for the front door it suddenly swung open and she froze in her steps. Gus stepped inside with a wide grin on his face. She was caught.
"Hi, princess," he said, saluting. "Don't look so scared. I'm on your side."
He went over to the couch and retrieved his baseball cap. He motioned with it and put it on his head. She couldn't speak.
"I used this as an excuse to come back," he said. "I knew you were in the other room. I saw your shadow in the hall."
Bobbi blinked with confusion.
"Look, kid," he said. "You go to my place and wait. If you want to get your husband out of trouble, do just as I say."
"All right," she said. "Anything."
His grin broadened. "Anything?" he said.
She nodded. "I mean it. I'll do anything if you'll stay away from Doug."
"Good," he said. "Well, you go there and I'll be back to see you sometime tonight. Don't call anyone, understand?"
"All right. I give my word."
He gave her directions and then left to rejoin Tony and Ethel at the bar. Bobbi made sure the way was clear and then left her mother's apartment. She found Gus's apartment at the end of town near the Captain's Quarters Motel. She was tempted to pass the street of Gus's apartment when she thought of Paul so nearby, but she had given her word. She let herself into the outside entrance of the rundown frame house near the beach and locked the door behind her.
Perhaps this was the best bet. If she could keep Gus from making the trip to Dorsey it was the most direct solution to her problem. If she enlisted Mr. Porter's help there was no assurance they would intercept him in time. She would take a chance on Gus, and she would do whatever he asked. Doug's life was worth any price she had to pay.
It was early afternoon when she entered the shabby apartment, and she thought she would go crazy waiting for Gus to appear. She supposed the waiting was even worse than the price she would have to pay when he arrived. She resigned to any demand he might make, but she wished he would come and get it over with. It was nearly midnight before he finally arrived.
She had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room, but awoke when she heard a sound of a key in the door. She heard drunken talk coming from the outside. Who was he with?
The door opened and Gus staggered inside with an equally drunk girl clinging to his side. Bobbi knew her. It was Flo. "Hi ya, princess," he greeted with a wide arm sweep. "You know my little pal, skinny, don't you?"
"What's the girl scout doing here?" Flo demanded angrily.
"Did you have to bring her?" Bobbi finally said nervously.
"Well, I like that!" said Flo indignantly. "Who do you think lives here ... me or you?"
Gus laughed and slapped Flo on the bottom. "Now let's not quarrel, kids," he said. "Let's all get undressed so we can have a nice friendly get together. Togetherness ... that's what I long for."
"I'm getting outa here!" Flo said, swinging around toward the door.
Gus grabbed her and yanked her against him. "You'll do exactly what I tell you to do!" he said with the smile gone. "Want your face pushed in?"
"Don't honey," Flo said, grimacing from the tight grip he had on her arm. "I just get jealous is all."
"Get in that bedroom and get undressed!" he said, giving her a push. She fell against the wall, but when she regained her balance she went obediently into the bedroom.
Bobbi felt her heart palpitating. She felt her life draining out of her limbs. She hadn't bargained for this. She didn't see how she could go through with it. "What ... do you want of me?" Bobbi asked.
"What do you think, princess?" said Gus, bringing . back his crooked grin. "You'n me are gonna make up for lost time, but first things have to come first."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Remember the other day at the beach," he said, already taking off his sweatshirt. "You treated me like a backed up toilet, didn't you? I was some kind of fungus you had to get rid of."
"Please," she said.
He unzipped his pants and kicked off his tennis shoes. Then he stepped out of the pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He wore only white, brief underwear under the pants. With his fists on his hips he glared at Bobbi. "I told you, you'd come crawling to me when the time came, didn't I?"
She took a swallow of air and nodded. "Yes ... you did."
"Do you wanta save that King kid?" he said. "Yes," she said. "I do."
"Then get down on your knees, princess. Get down and crawl over here!"
Her impulse was to lunge at him, but she closed her eyes to await the passage of the urge. Then with resignation she let herself down to her knees. She began to crawl across the threadbare carpet to where he stood.
"Hey, Flo," he called out, "get out here and dig this."
As she crawled toward him, Bobbi heard Flo's laughter ring out from behind.
"Come over here, Flo," said Gus. "I need you."
Bobbi stopped at his feet and then saw the naked form of Flo pad next to where she was crouching. "Whatya want me for?" Flo asked.
"Get on, baby, and take a free ride." Gus helped Flo stride Bobbi's back and they both rocked with laughter.
Bobbi couldn't go on with it. She fell to her stomach and began crying. As she cried, she felt her dress being lifted and felt Gus feeling her body. He periodically asked Flo for opinions and made her hand touch where his hand had been. Flo admitted Bobbi had a nice figure, but refused to help Gus undress her.
"I don't want her undressed," Flo said. "She can go to hell for all I care."
Gus slapped Flo across the face and with tears of her own Flo was soon going about the awkward chore of taking Bobbi's clothes off. Bobbi didn't protest. She only sobbed with her arm covering her eyes. She was rolled on her back and her final garments were removed.
"Hey," said Gus, giving a whistle, "what the hell happened to you? You look like somebody worked you over with a bull whip. Did that old crazy King woman do that?"
"Yes," said Bobbi, "but I'm all right. "It doesn't hurt much now."
"That's good," he said, "because it won't change my plans."
"I didn't expect it would," Bobbi said.
"Get on your knees!" Gus commanded Bobbi. As he spoke he gave her a barefoot kick in the bottom. She grimaced in pain, but did as she was told.
"Now follow us," Gus said. Bobbi crawled behind them into the bedroom.
Gus placed a chair in front of the bed. When Bobbi reached it on her hands and knees he ordered her to sit there. She got up to follow his order.
"Skinny and I will give you lesson one, princess," he said. With that he pushed Flo on the bed and joined her. "Now watch carefully because I'll be asking questions later." He crawled over Flo and was met by her clasping, eager arms.
Bobbi watched the erotic scene without really seeing. Gus and Flo gyrated in the throes of uninhibited sex as though they were alone in the room. Gus whispered coarse, vulgar messages and received similar words in return. Flo clung to him desperately, reaching up with her small body, growling and swearing like a tiny savage. Eventually they trembled in mutual conquest. They cried out words of sex. Bobbi didn't react emotionally but had to wonder how the neighbors put up with this. At the moment this was her only thought.
"Okay, princess," Gus said to Bobbi, "come on over here. It's time you got to know what kind of man I am.
"No, Gus," Flo cried. "Don't do it to her. You said you wouldn't. You swore you'd be true to me."
"I said I wouldn't cheat, honey," he placated. "This ain't cheating. You'll be right here cheering me on."
Gus was away from Flo by the time Bobbi reached the bed. He weighed Bobbi's breast in his hand and marveled at it aloud. "No kidding, Flo," he said. "Feel this ... it's the greatest." Bobbi lay back as if none of it was going on. Almost as if she were settling down to sleep. She was asleep inside.
"I'm going to be mad if you do it," Flo warned. "I'll take your pushing around as long as I'm your only girl, but you promised me."
"I got an idea," Gus said to Flo. "How about if I just lay back and make her do something special? Would that burn you up?"
Flo didn't answer, so he tugged at Bobbi, to put her in position for his alternate plan.
"You gave your word that you would stay away from Dorsey," Bobbi managed to say she was forced into position. "You will keep your word, won't you?"
"What's this all about?" Flo demanded. "We just got back from Dorsey."
"Shut up, you bitch!" Gus said, hitting Flo hard across the face. He grabbed her and pushed her off the bed. "Get outa here and stay out. I hate skinny broads anyway."
As he was pushing Flo around Bobbi began to retreat. The impact of Flo's words were slow sinking in, but when they did, she was ready to fight. He had already gone to Dorsey. The trap was already set. It might already have been sprung. In panic she made a fast move from the bed, but Gus caught her and slapped her across the cheek. "Oh no you don't!" he said, pushing her back to the mattress.
He was over her at once, but she was fighting. He nudged his knees between her thighs as he struck her face with back and forth hand slaps. When her writhing failed to subside, the blows became harder. Finally his fist connected with her chin and she relaxed, almost unconscious. He mauled her legs apart and moved in.
Once more Bobbi began to cry and as much as she tried she could do nothing about Gus's aggressive moves. She was trapped. She was being forcibly raped.
In her perimeter vision, she saw movement. When she looked that way it was already too late. She saw Flo lunge toward Gus with a knife in her hand. Bobbi's breath caught as she looked into Gus's face. His face lit up strangely, almost in a weird smile. He grimaced slightly and slumped down on her. She quickly wrestled out from under him, and crawled to the floor. "Stop it!" she called out as Flo once more drove the knife into his back. "You're killing him!"
"He's mine," Flo said in her squeaky voice. She paused in her mission as though to enlist Bobbi's sympathy and understanding. "I never had anyone before. I can't lose him."
"Call the hospital quick, Flo," Bobbi cried. "Otherwise, he'll die. You don't want to be a murderer. Hurry, Flo!"
Flo seemed to come out of her cloud when she saw what she had done. In haste, she did as Bobbi instructed. She ran to the telephone to make the call.
The knife was still in her hand, dripping. Bobbi hurriedly dressed herself. When she heard Flo giving the address for the ambulance, she left the apartment. There was nothing she could do anyway. She had to get out. She had Doug to worry about. She ran to the beach and took off her shoes to run through the sand to the Captain's Quarters Motel.
"Room 102, room 102...." she kept repeating the room number. It was the room Paul Mason said he would be staying in. She should never have trusted Gus. Paul was her last hope.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bobbi found the motel unit and was reassured when she saw Paul's sedan parked in front of the room. She knocked on the door.
In a moment she heard, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Paul," she called through the closed door. "It's Bobbi."
The door opened and a light went on inside. She saw Paul tying his robe. He had been asleep. "I'm sorry, Paul," she said. "But I need your help."
He invited her inside, and surprised her by asking if her trouble had to do with Doug. "How did you know his name?" she asked.
"He was here a while ago," said Paul, sitting down on the bed. He motioned for Bobbi to sit on the nearby arm chair. She did so automatically.
"Doug ... was here?"
Paul nodded. "He had my business card. I had given it to your mother when I first stopped at your apartment. He seemed to think it was for some other purpose. He was a little hard to get along with at first, but I managed to calm him down. I like him, Bobbi. I think the lad's going to be all right."
She shook her head abjectly. "So that's what they used to get him to make the break," she said. "What did the card say on it?"
Paul sighed. "I could see where it would seem incriminating to a rather jealous young husband. The message said I wanted to see you, and it told where I was. But it's okay now, really. I convinced him we were just old friends. He believed me before he left."
"Did he say where he was going?"
"No. But I assume he was going to look for you. Somebody was waiting for him in the car."
"What kind of car?"
"I don't know. It was a big black sedan. Maybe a Lincoln. I think the driver was an older man with gray hair."
It had to be Mr. Porter, Bobbi supposed. But how did he fit into this? It just didn't make sense. Porter certainly wouldn't be involved in a jail break. "I ... I've got to get into town, Paul," she said. "I've got to find Doug right away."
"Hold on a minute," he said, "and I'll drive you."
He started for the bathroom with a pair of trousers that had been banging in the closet. He turned at the door. "It's going to be okay, Bobbi," he reassured. "The kid didn't seem to be in any trouble. I have a hunch everything will be fine."
"Thanks, Paul," she said, managing a smile. But he didn't know anything of the intricacies of Doug's predicament. Paul had no idea how much trouble people could get themselves into. He meant well though, and she was very grateful for his encouragement.
Bobbi was pacing about the room, waiting, when a knock sounded at the door. She started to reach for the knob, but paused. What if it was Tony? "Who's there?" she called. Then the door burst open. It was Doug.
"Bobbi," he said, facing her in the doorway. "Oh, Bobbi."
She couldn't believe her eyes. Her lips separated, but words failed. She ran to him and embraced him. But he was unreceptive.
"So Gus was right about you," he said. "You did have a date with this guy."
"No!" she said, drawing back in astonishment. "That's not true."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Oh, darling," she said tearfully, "I've been through hell since we've been apart. I came to Paul for help. I've only been here a minute. He was going to drive me into town to find you."
He nodded contemplatively, not showing whether he believed her or not. At that moment Mr. Porter entered the room. He closed the door behind him. "Take it easy, Doug," he said to him. "She's telling the truth, I'm sure of it. You've got to believe in each other now. Now you have a chance."
"Please believe me, Doug," she begged. "I've made some terrible mistakes in my life. Even in the last few days, but not with you. I love you. I would never purposely meet another man like this ... It's just not what you think."
He was almost in tears himself. "I ... I'm sorry," he said finally, and their full embrace was made. They clung to each other in silence as Paul joined them in the room.
"I guess we owe Mr. Mason an explanation," Porter said, breaking into Bobbi's and Doug's embrace.
"No you don't," said Paul. "You don't owe me anything at all. I told Bobbi I would help her if she needed me, and I meant it. But I don't expect any explanations."
"Things will work out," Porter said to him. "They will now."
"That's all that matters," Paul said. "I wish you both the best of luck." Paul extended his hand to Doug. Doug accepted it with a nod.
"I'm sorry we bothered you, Paul," said Bobbi.
"It's okay," he assured. "I'll be leaving King's Cove in a few hours. I'm just glad I'll be leaving you in good hands."
"You love her, don't you?" Doug said to Paul.
Paul blinked with surprise, but then he smiled. "Yes," he admitted. "But the better man won. I can see how things are between you two."
"Thanks, Paul," Bobbi said as they left the room.
When they were in the parking lot, Porter turned to Bobbi and Doug. "This seems as good a place as any for you two to spend the night," he said. "I'll go check you in."
T don't understand, honey," said Bobbi with increased amazement. "Aren't the police looking for you?"
"No, thank God," he said. "This time the odds were on our side, honey."
"But Breck was planning to make you break jail. Then he was going to kill you."
"It almost worked too. I mean it would have if Porter hadn't already arranged for my release."
"Your release? You mean they let you out ... free?"
"It looks that way," he said. "We have to do some selling to the parole board, but it looks good from here. Uh ... Bobbi ... I'm sorry I lied to you. I mean about school and all. I didn't want to admit that I had a record. I didn't want to give you a bad impression."
She was in his arms again. "A bad impression? How could I ever have a bad impression of you? I love you, honey. You could have told me anything at all. I would have understood."
"I don't see how you could, considering the fact that I didn't understand it myself. And I didn't attack my mother like she said I did. It was a lie. She as much as admitted it in some papers she left. She said she had to resort to unorthodox methods to restrain me. She used the previous frame-up as an example. That's why the Dorsey police let me out. She hadn't signed the complaint anyway. The money I took from the house was my own too."
"How about the boat?" she asked.
"It was pretty stupid, I guess, but I lied to you again. I did take it, Bobbi, but Porter got the owner to let me off. He made him understand how desperate I was to get away from King's Cove with my new bride. We're clear on everything, I think. We don't have to worry about Breck either."
"How come?"
"Also among my mother's papers was a series of detailed dossiers on King's Cove residents. The file on Breck will salt him away for a long time. My mother liked to collect such files to make sure she kept everybody under her thumb. Breck's got big troubles, honey. In fact, I'll do what I can to make him face murder charges. There was a girl's body washed up on the beach last summer. It belonged to a girl who worked for your mother. It'll be investigated now."
Enough of the details had been cleared to allow time for their kiss. It was the first kiss Bobbi had had from Doug since their marriage. This one didn't have time to develop, however. "Come on," said a gruff voice. "This way, kiddies."
It was Breck, and his gun was drawn. Doug started toward him, but the click of the safety held him in his tracks. "Don't, Doug," Bobbi begged. "He'll kill you."
"You've had it, Breck," said Doug. "You sure rate a good grade for guts though."
"Get movin'." he commanded. He motioned to the parked police cruiser near the street. Bobbi and Doug walked to the car ahead of him. When the door to the back seat opened, they got in. Breck crawled in beside them. Ethel was behind the wheel. "Okay, Ethel," he said. "Get goin'."
The car bounded out of the motel lot and the gears growled as she tried to-shift on the highway. "I ain't much of a driver, Tony," she said. "But I'll try if it means getting back my sweet lil ole daughter ... Hi, lambykins," she said over her shoulder.
"You're going to be nailed for murder, Breck," Doug said.
"Not if there's no snoopy King kid to testify," he said.
"It won't matter," Doug assured him. "The sheriff's department has a whole file on you. My mother had enough there to send you up for years."
"Had a hunch about that," said Breck. "That's why we're going to that haunted house of yours right now. I happen to know that she keeps a fortune in that safe of hers. You're gonna get it all out and hand it to me nice like. Then the princess and her mother will join me on a nice trip to Brazil. Sounds fun, don't it?"
"You're out of luck again, fatso," said Doug. "Do you suppose my mother would let me know the combination to that safe? Even you should know better than that."
"We'll work somethin' out," said Breck confidently.
"I'll never go with you," said Bobbi. "You'd have to watch me twenty-four hours a day. I'd turn you in the first chance I got."
"Now, now, honey," said her mother, glancing back, "we got ways of makin' you mind. By the way, young man, do you know what kind of girl you're married to?"
"Keep your mouth shut!" Doug said.
Ethel laughed. "Kind of a touchy point, ain't it? Well, most recently she proved she's a pretty good hooker, but before that she got loused up at home. Did you know that Mason guy gave her a baby?"
Doug sent a searing look to Bobbi. "Is that true?" he asked.
"No," she said. "But I did get into trouble. I wanted to tell you, Doug. I tried to."
"You had a baby?" he said with his voice lifting into a falsetto range.
"Yes ... I did. I gave it up. The father was a boy named Tom Sebastian. I wanted to tell you everything, Doug, but you wouldn't let me."
He turned away from her and stared straight ahead. Bobbi drew her hands to her face and began to sob silently. A few moments earlier all had seemed smooth and wonderful. Now she was right back into the smelly gutter with Tony and her mother. Her good luck didn't last long.
"I might as well tell you the rest," Bobbi sobbed.
"No," said Doug sharply. "We can't help the past. I don't want to know anything more about the past. It's done and gone. After tonight we open a new chapter."
"Ain't you forgettin' somethin', pal?" said Breck, jabbing the gun in Doug's ribs.
"Not at all," said Doug calmly. But then with a sudden slam of his elbow he caught Tony in the eye. He gripped the revolver with both hands and held it tightly. In the struggle, Ethel turned around to see what was happening. As she turned, the car began to swerve dangerously. In the sudden lurch the gun discharged. Ethel was attempting to straighten the wheel, but now she gave up. She slumped forward and the car drove off the road into a ditch.
Bobbi held on as the car rolled to its side. The door flung open and Breck fell out. When the car settled, Breck was under it. He cried out as the car crushed against his legs.
He began to moan as Bobbi and Doug climbed out of the door on top. Doug climbed up first and then helped Bobbi. They jumped down to the ground on the other side. Doug noticed he was still holding Breck's service revolver. He tossed it aside.
"Help me," Breck wailed into the eerie stillness of the night. "God ... help me!"
They went around to investigate and saw that Breck was helplessly pinned. They also noticed blood trickling from the driver's window. Doug leaned over and peered through the windshield. Bobbi started to join him, but he waved her back.
"Your mother's dead," he said. "The bullet went through her head."
By this time several cars were parking along the road. Two men were running toward them. One of them was Porter. "My God," he said, "I didn't think he would dare come near you."
Someone said that the police had been called, and that an ambulance and a wrecker were on the way. Breck had passed out from the pain. Porter helped Bobbi and Doug to his car. She and Doug sat in the back seat while Mr. Porter went back to the highway.
Tears were still in Bobbi's eyes but she had stopped crying. "Oh, Doug," she said with a gasp for breath. "Will the ugliness ever stop? Will it ever?"
He drew her into his arms. "It already has, honey," he said. "That last scene was the final one. The very last. I give you my word."
"Life can be hell," she said bitterly.
"We both know that, don't we?" But I'm told it can also be beautiful. You gave me a couple of glimpses of that kind of beauty."
She snuggled against him.
"Do you love me?" he said.
"Yes, darling. More than life itself."
"I love you too. I'll always love you."
"Can you ... I mean now?"
"You better believe it. In fact, I've just been thinking. Do you suppose we could make them give us your baby? I hate to think of a little tyke like that without parents to love him."
"I don't think so," she said. "He's probably been adopted by now."
"Well, we'll find out anyway," he said. "Wonder when Mr. Porter's coming back."
As they looked the blinker lights of the ambulance were approaching. As soon as it arrived, Porter returned to the car. "I'm going to take you back to your room," he said. "I can handle the rest of this."
They drove back to the motel and Porter handed them their room key.
"Call me in the morning, kids," he said. "Things will be fine now."
"Goodnight," Bobbi said. "And thanks. Thanks very much."
"You've got quite a woman there," Porter said to Doug.
"I know," said Doug, waving goodnight to Porter.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The first thing they did when they were in their room was agree that none of the previous events would be permitted to damage their first honeymoon night.
"It was pretty bad," he said. "But I can close my mind to it if you can."
"It's a million years past," she agreed. "I won't let anything spoil this night."
"I have lots of ideas," he said, finally regaining his lost grin. "One of the things I thought about in jail was how much fun it would be to take a shower with you. You know ... you scrub me, and I'll scrub you."
"I'd love it," she said happily.
Doug quickly flung off his coat and began to undo his shirt. "Last one naked is a dirty rat," he said.
With this challenge issued, Bobbi swung into action. She cast aside her dress and with a flip her bra was gone. Her stockings had been left behind somewhere in the hidden memories of the night, so she didn't even think of them. She slithered out of her filmy nylon panties and lifted both arms in victory.
T win!" she laughed.
Doug stopped where he was with his trousers hanging at his thighs. He nodded and let his tongue tip moisten his lips. "You sure do," he conceded willingly. He admired her curves and Bobbi felt honored by his careful gaze. But then she saw the change of expression come over his face. His eyes focused on her lower torso, and he moved closer.
"Those welts," he said. "They look familiar."
She nodded.
"Porter didn't tell me about that," he said. "She actually beat you."
"It doesn't matter now," Bobbi said, resuming her smile. "Remember what we said?"
"Okay," he said. "Last one in the shower's a rotten egg-"
Doug won the race this time, but when Bobbi joined him he drew her against him in a tight body-to-body embrace. Over her shoulder he turned the water on, and when the first cold blast struck them they shuddered into an even tighter embrace. He adjusted the water temperature as their bodies made a growing search for sex. They were grinding against each other demandingly by the time the perfect blend of hot and cold was reached.
Doug found a bar of soap and broke his kiss to lather her soft, rounded body. He rubbed the soap over her breasts, belly, and legs. She shifted her body to assist his chore. He rubbed the slippery soap into every secret he discovered and she trembled at his touch.
When she was completely lathered she took the soap and carefully returned the kindness. She cleansed the hard, muscular body with pride, as though she were improving a personal piece of art work. She was particularly tender and attentive when the soap entered zones of forbidden privacy. But nothing about Doug was private any longer. His body was hers now. All of him belonged to her now as she belonged to him. She held his body with the same confidence she would have had with her own. There were no taboos now. He smiled as he watched her.
"Hurry it up," he cried above the roar of the shower. T can't take much more of this. I'm on fire."
"With all this water?"
He clutched her tightly against him with his hands grasping her rounded buttocks. She pressed against him with her body sliding over his in the slippery lather. They kissed and their bodies made even stronger bids for each other. Now it was urgent.
Doug yanked open the shower curtain and drew his wife out of the stall. He grabbed two thick towels and spread them on the floor. He lowered her down on them, and in a swift move he was with her. They met each other in a mutual bid for sexual success. The shower continued to roar, sending a misty spray of water over their convulsing figures. But they were too busy to notice. They were on their way to more important goals.
Bobbi arched up to him wickedly. In a wet, devouring embrace of true married love they reached the magic moment.
"Oh, darling," she called to him, digging her fingers into his back. "Oh, oh, oh, oh!"
"I love you," he gasped sharply into her ear.
With the passing of their peak they rolled to their sides on the towels. Doug chuckled first and then they both began to laugh. "How about that?" he said. "We couldn't even wait to get into bed."
"Who needs a bed?" she said happily.
"You know there are a million things we can do together," he said to her between nips at her mouth.
"I hope so," she said, clutching him tightly.
"I want to try them all," he said. "I want to do everything a man can do to a woman."
"I want to do everything a woman can do to a man," she replied, nibbling at his ear, wetly.
"Can we check off a few things tonight?"
"I don't ever want to sleep," she assured him.
Doug got up and helped Bobbi to her feet. They dried each other and finally entered the bedroom.
"I should warn you," Doug said to her, "we're damn rich. Do you mind that?"
"Not if you're rich with me," she laughed. "I wouldn't mind being poor either. Not as long as you were there."
"I know that," he said seriously. "That's why I love you so much."
"We're wasting time standing up," she said. "Or is that one of the things you had in mind to try?"
"We can get to that later," he said, pulling her down top of him in the bed.
He drew Bobbi into a position of command and she accepted it gratefully. She proceeded to make love to her husband in every way she knew. She didn't want to forget anything. But even if she didn't remember tonight ... there was always tomorrow. And the day after that. There would be many tomorrows of love for Bobbi now. She really believed it.
