Protecting Alabama (SEAL of Protection Book 2) (7 page)

He was demanding, but Alabama didn’t feel threatened. She’d never been held like this. She’d spent the night with a guy before, but as soon as he’d had sex with her, he’d rolled over and she waited a miserable six hours for the sun to rise so she could get out of his apartment.

Christopher was warm and smelled so good. She wasn’t sure what he smelled like, just that it was comforting. She closed her eyes as he’d demanded and burrowed closer to him.

“Mama named me Alabama Ford Smith. Alabama because that’s the state she got fucked in…her words, not mine…and Ford because that’s
where
she got fucked. Her last name wasn’t even Smith. She didn’t want me to have her last name.” Alabama gripped the sleeve of Christopher’s shirt with her left hand without even realizing it and continued.

“My earliest memory is being locked in a closet and having Mama yell at me to shut up. I don’t know why I was crying, but she couldn’t stand it. Anytime I’d speak to her, she’d lock me in the closet. I learned not to talk to her if I wanted to eat or even sleep in my bed. But sometimes I’d forget. Or I’d talk not knowing she was around to hear me. I still hear her yelling at me to shut up over and over again.”

Abe wanted to tell Alabama to stop, that he couldn’t bear it, but he knew she had to get it out. He couldn’t believe she was as sweet as she was. Other people who’d gone through what she had wouldn’t have turned out half as adjusted as Alabama was, and he knew she was probably downplaying it anyway. Even knowing her for the short time he had, he knew she wouldn’t tell him everything.

“When I was eleven, she hit me with a skillet because I’d asked her something. A teacher noticed and I trusted a police officer when he said he’d help me. He didn’t, and they sent me back to her. When I was twelve, she beat me with that same skillet and broke my jaw, along with most of my face. She swore, as she was hitting me, that she’d teach me not to talk.”

Alabama stopped and cleared her throat. She’d never talked so much at one time in all her life. But it felt good to get it out. To tell someone. To tell Christopher. She finally noticed Christopher’s hand clenched in a fist at her side. He’d bunched up her shirt and was holding it tight. She lifted her head and brought her hand up to his face.

“Are you all right?”

Abe snorted. Of course she’d try to comfort
him
.
He
should be comforting
her
. He tried to relax; unclenching his fist and soothing it over her side. “I’m okay, sweet. I’m just pissed as hell at your mother and trying to understand how you turned out to be the sweetest woman I’ve ever met with your upbringing.”

Alabama just shook her head and put her head back on his chest.

Abe didn’t make her look at up at him, but told her quietly, “Seriously, sweet. You don’t have to say a word and your goodness comes through loud and clear. I could sense it standing at that damn table at the party.” When she didn’t say anything else Abe decided not to push. “What then? Where did you go after she beat you?”

“Into foster care.”

“Was it…okay?”

“I guess. Mama had told me to shut up so many times in my life I’d finally taken her words to heart. Everyone thought I was weird and I didn’t talk to many people. Even today when I hear the words ‘shut up,’ I cringe. It brings me back to sitting in that damn closet and listening to my mama screaming at me to ‘shut up, shut up, shut up.’ You said something to me once and I think you were right.”

“What’s that?”

“You said I had Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re probably right. I think I need to talk to someone about it. I mean…other than you.”

“I’ll help you with whatever you need. If you want me to help you find someone, let me know. There are lots of counselors on base that have experience with PTSD. If you’d prefer to talk to someone who specifically deals with child abuse, I can help with that too. But sweet, you’ll never know how much it means to me that you trusted me with your story. I know we’re still getting to know each other, but you mean something to me. I won’t let you down. I won’t tell you to ‘shut up’ now that I know it’s a trigger for you. I’ve told you this before, and I’ll keep saying it, you’re safe with me. I promise.

“Also, your mother might have tried to give you a name that didn’t mean anything, but you should own it. You
are
Alabama Ford Smith. You’ve survived. You’ve persevered. Don’t let her own petty actions stain you. Those are
her
issues, not yours. You’re unique and amazing and you have a unique and amazing name. Besides, I
like
your name. I like you.”

Alabama turned her face into Christopher’s shirt and inhaled deeply. God, he was awesome. She tried not to cry, but it was no use. The tears came out of her eyes and leaked down onto his chest when she turned her head back to the side so she could breathe.

“Let it out sweet. Let it out. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alabama cried for her lousy childhood. She cried because her mama had never loved her. She cried for her loss of trust in people in general. Finally when she was all cried out, she sniffed once and settled on Christopher’s chest. She relaxed into him, thinking how comfortable she was and she never wanted to move.

Abe was furious. He tried to stay relaxed under Alabama, but he didn’t know how successful he was at it. He decided to share some of his life with Alabama, so she didn’t feel awkward about sharing something so intimate about herself with him.

“I didn’t really know my dad growing up.” Abe felt Alabama’s head lift as she looked at him, but he kept talking. “He would come around every now and then, but just as we were used to him being around, he’d leave again. My mom would cry every time he left. She never knew I knew about it, but I’d sit outside her bedroom and listen to her bawl her eyes out. I swore I’d take care of her. I did what I could. I did my chores without being asked, I helped my sisters with their homework, and I gave my mom every cent I earned from mowing lawns and other small jobs I did for the neighbors.”

Abe stroked Alabama’s hair, not sure if he was comforting her or himself. “We didn’t have a lot of money, because my dad certainly didn’t contribute, but we did okay. I’d do anything for my sisters and mother, and it hurts me that you didn’t have that in your life. I wish I’d known you when you were growing up, Alabama.”

Alabama didn’t say a word, but lay in Christopher’s arms, loving the feel of his arms around her. She thought about what he’d just told her about his family. Alabama understood more about what made him how he was today. “You need to take care of people,” she told him drowsily.

“I take care of those that mean something to me.”

Alabama didn’t say anything else, but his words settled into her soul and she could almost feel the crack in her heart healing.

Abe continued to run his hand over Alabama’s hair until she finally fell asleep on his chest.

He’d never wanted to hurt a woman before, but Abe wanted to hurt Alabama’s mother more than he’d ever wanted anything before in his life. How could she do that to her own child? How could she take someone as sweet as Alabama and abuse her that way? He was amazed she’d turned out as well as she had. It said a lot about Alabama’s inner strength.

Abe lay under Alabama enjoying her softness, enjoying her trust in him. He’d never forget this moment. It was the moment he knew he could easily fall head over heels in love with a woman for the first time in his life.

Alabama opened the door to the temporary offices of Wolfe Realty. The building was much like the old one. The offices were all on one floor, but this time the realtors had to share offices until the new building was constructed.

It was actually easier to clean this building than the old one because everything had been destroyed in the fire and there wasn’t as much clutter around.

Alabama pushed her new cleaning cart as she moved through the building. She’d always loved the quiet of the evening when she’d worked. Some people didn’t like empty buildings and thought they were creepy, not Alabama. She loved the solitude.

She thought back over the last week. She and Christopher had spent every evening together. He had to work during the days, but had come over each night for dinner before she headed to work and to spend time with her.

One evening when she’d had the night off, they’d gone to his quarters on the base. They weren’t anything special, but to Alabama it was a whole new world. She didn’t know anything about the military, and in fact being on the base itself made her nervous. There were unwritten rules she had no idea about. In order to get inside the grocery store you had to prove you were affiliated with the military and you had to show your identification. The same was true of a lot of the services on the base. It wasn’t that anyone was unfriendly, it was just overwhelming.

Christopher sensed her unease and hadn’t asked if she wanted to come to his place on base after the first time they’d been there, telling her since she was more comfortable at her apartment, he’d come to her. He hadn’t seemed unhappy about it, simply telling her it wasn’t a big deal.

Alabama loved hanging out with him. It was easy. It wasn’t until the third evening they’d spent some time together that Christopher had asked if he could kiss her.

Alabama stood in the hallway of the building she was cleaning and closed her eyes recalling how perfect that first kiss was. They’d been sitting on her small couch watching some movie when she’d felt him looking at her. She turned to him and the look on his face was intense. When their eyes met his hand came up and cupped her cheek. She tilted her head and rested her cheek into his hand.

“I want to kiss you, sweet. Will you let me?”

Alabama simply nodded.

The hand at her cheek shifted to the back of her neck. Christopher cupped her in a firm, but strangely gentle grip, and shifted closer to her. He’d rested his forehead against hers and just held her there for a moment.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since you opened your door to me last week. You have no idea…”

Then he brought his other hand up to her face and cupped it. Alabama was sandwiched between the hand at the back of her neck and the one on her face. She didn’t feel trapped, she felt protected. Christopher tilted her head just so and swooped in for his kiss. For some reason, Alabama had thought he’d take it slow. Everything he’d done so far had been easy and gentle, but this kiss wasn’t either of those.

It was a confident kiss, a kiss that demanded she open and let him in. And she did. Alabama didn’t hold back. Their lips met and immediately parted. She felt his tongue do an initial sweep of her mouth, then retreat to tease and caress her lips before plunging back in. Alabama tried to keep up, swirling her tongue around his, and at one point taking his tongue and sucking on it. She thought she’d feel awkward and uneasy, but she’d been so aroused, she didn’t have time to be embarrassed.

At that point, Christopher took the hand that had been on her cheek and put it on her back and laid her down against the cushions of the couch. He kept his hand at her neck supporting her head as he eased her down. Alabama didn’t even notice…until she felt his hardness against her. Christopher never stopped his sensual exploration of her mouth, but she could feel his strength over her. He wasn’t crushing her, in fact, his body felt good pressing against hers. She could feel his length against her leg—he was hard, all over.

Alabama breathed in through her nose and pressed her head back, breaking contact with his lips. Without missing a beat, Christopher leaned down and put his mouth against her neck, nipping and sucking lightly. Her breath came out in pants and she tried to get her brain to start working again.

“Now
that
was a kiss,” she’d said breathlessly. She heard him chuckle against her throat before he moved up and nipped her earlobe.

“You make me lose my mind, sweet.”

One part of Alabama wanted to do nothing more than stand up and lead him to her small bed in the corner, but the other part of her was terrified. She’d trusted before and been let down. She didn’t think Christopher would break her trust, but she wasn’t certain yet.

Alabama brought her hands down from his back where she’d been clutching at him and put them on his chest. He’d immediately reared up so he could see her face. Of course that pushed his erection harder into her thigh, making her blush. Christopher laughed and kissed her lightly on the nose. He sat them both up and brought her into his side.

“Thank you, Alabama. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

They hadn’t said much more that night, they’d simply finished the movie. When it was over and time for Christopher to leave, she’d walked him to her door and he’d taken both of her hands in his and held them loosely in between them. Christopher leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. What started out as a short, sweet goodnight kiss turned into something hotter and longer.

He hadn’t let go of her hands while they were kissing and it was interesting to be touching him with nothing more than her lips and tongue. Just that contact made her squirm. She’d never felt anything like she did when she was with him…kissing him.

“Good night, sweet. Lock the door behind me,” was all he’d said. Then he’d kissed her once more on the tip of her nose, squeezed her hands, and walked out.

Alabama took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She’d zoned out in the middle of the hallway of the realty office. She’d been clenching the handles of the cleaning cart so hard, her fingernails had bit into her palms. She had it bad.

She laughed at herself and continued down the hall. Alabama had just entered one of the agent’s offices when she heard the front door open. It wasn’t too late, but late enough that there really shouldn’t be anyone working. Feeling her heart jump with fear, Alabama stood stock still, not knowing what she should do. She reached in her pocket for the phone Christopher had given her, feeling better knowing she had some sort of way to call for help. She pulled it out and flipped it open. She pushed a nine and a one and her thumb hovered over the last one. She’d wait to see what was going on before she actually dialed for emergency help.

She watched down the hall and soon she saw someone walking toward her. It was Adelaide. Alabama let out a breath of relief. She didn’t want to see the woman, but at least it wasn’t a crazed killer. She shut the phone and slipped it back into her pocket.

Adelaide looked up when she was a few doors down from Alabama and finally noticed her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked nastily.

Alabama thought it was a pretty dumb question considering she was the janitor and was standing in front of a cleaning cart. She gestured toward the cart and didn’t answer verbally.

“Yeah, I forgot you don’t talk much do you?” Adelaide sneered. “I came in to get some papers for a client that I left here by accident. Get out of my way.”

Alabama moved to the side and watched as Adelaide brushed past her into the office she’d been about to clean.

“By the way, I know all about you and Abe, bitch. He was mine and you stole him. But don’t worry; he’ll come back to me. After all, look at
you
, then look at
me
. There’s no way he’s serious about you. You’re short and plain. You can’t hold his attention for a millisecond.”

Alabama had enough. At no time had Christopher made her feel as if he was playing with her or just clocking time. He’d mentioned to her several times that he hadn’t been serious with Adelaide. She was just being mean and jealous and taking it out on her.

Alabama looked around, still not being able to break the habit, and responded quietly and firmly, “I didn’t steal anything.
He
came to
me
. I might not be as pretty as you, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him. He likes me, and I like him. So back off and leave us alone.”

As far as comebacks go, it was pretty lame, but Adelaide actually took a step back in surprise. She hadn’t expected the meek little janitor to fight back. Maybe no one had ever talked back to her, although that was unlikely. It seemed Adelaide was the kind of woman who’d make enemies, and surely someone had protested being talked down to.

Adelaide narrowed her eyes and glared at Alabama. Alabama glared right back.

“You’ll regret this, bitch,” Adelaide finally hissed. She turned toward the desk and grabbed a folder that was sitting on it. “And get out of my office. I don’t trust you to keep your hands off my stuff.”

That hurt Alabama more than Adelaide’s previous words had. She might not be the prettiest person in the world, but she wasn’t a thief. Even at her lowest, when she’d turned eighteen and had gotten free of the foster care system, she hadn’t resorted to shoplifting. There were times she would’ve killed to have something to eat other than cheap noodles, but she’d never taken something that wasn’t hers.

Without looking behind her, Alabama pushed her cart down the hall. Fine, if Adelaide didn’t want her office cleaned, she wouldn’t bother. Hopefully the spiders and dust took over the space and made Adelaide miserable.

Alabama entered the office next to Adelaide’s and heard the bitch stomp down the hall and exit the building. Once Adelaide left, Alabama sat down wearily on the chair next to the desk. Damn. She didn’t like confrontations, but she felt good for finally sticking up for herself for once. Adelaide was a bitch, but luckily she didn’t have to work with her. Hopefully she’d remember her papers from here on out and Alabama could avoid another nasty encounter with her.