Fall for You: Boys of Alabama

by Mica Halstead

  He leaves the room after that, leaving us by ourselves.

  “Ford, I can explain..” She starts to say but the doctor comes in with her discharge papers, effectively cutting her off. I shoot her a weak smile.

  “Let's get you home and then we’ll talk, yeah?” She nods in agreement.

  Lex

  The drive home was mostly silent. Ford stopped at his moms to pick up the kids because he wanted them with him and then we headed back to our places. I was out of his truck and heading towards my house when Ford stopped me.

  “Nope.” He commanded, leaving no room for argument. “Absolutely not. Not when she’s still out there. My place. Now.” And then he unloaded Aria and grabbed her bag before herding both kids up onto the porch, where he waited for me.

  Sheesh. Bossy.

  I make my way begrudgingly up to his house, knowing now there was no way to avoid that whole ‘I’m still married’ snafu. He lets us all in and shuts and locks the door, arming his security system. The kids started to make their way upstairs, but Ford stops them.

  “Freeze!” And they do. “Few ground rules,” he barks out, ticking them off his fingers as he goes along. “You aren’t allowed outside, the doors stay locked at all times. Do NOT disarm the security system. And if someone knocks on this door, you do not answer it.” At that comment, he cut his eyes to Aria and she grins.

  “Yes, sir,” they both mumbled before taking off upstairs. Ford makes his way down the hallway and to the kitchen where he drops his keys and phone. Leaning his back against the counter, he crosses his arms over his chest and crosses his feet at his ankles and pins me with his eyes. We are separated by a hallway but somehow I'm still drawn to him. In some ways, I think I always will be. This magnetic pull that neither of us could deny. My heart beats for this man.

  I close the distance between us and take a seat at one of the bar stools at the island, resting my forehead in my hand and taking a deep breath.

  “Talk,” he rumbles.

  “Where do you want me to start?” I ask him, shakily. “Should I start at the beginning, when I was seventeen and my mama had just died and I had no one to turn to when I met Jason? Or should I start at the end, where I fled our home with nothing but my purse and three broken ribs, not even a pair of shoes on my feet, because I was sure that night would be the night my husband killed me?” My voice cracks at the end.

  Ford sighs real heavy and makes his way over to me at the island.

  “I already knew, Lex.” At that, my eyes snap up to his and narrow.

  “Excuse me?” I snapped.

  He ran his knuckles down my cheek and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I already knew. Jax knows Mrs. Jenkin’s niece and she’s a huge blabbermouth. She heard your story from her aunt who heard it from Ronnie who told Mrs. Jenkins when they set you up with the house. He told me months ago. I just wish you would have told me sooner.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew? I’ve been freaking out for like ever, trying to figure out how to tell you I was still married, and that my husband has been sending me death threats!” I screech a little at the end. I’m pretty sure I was cracking up just a bit. Ford's face turns to stone.

  “Wait. Back up. Your husband is sending you what now?”

  I feel my face pale a little. I clear my throat. “Ah, death threats? Nope, no death threats here."

  “And just how long has this been going on?” His hand grip the counter, his knuckles turning white.

  “Just a handful of months. Via text and mail.”

  He holds his hand out and I hesitate, rolling my eyes and slapping my phone down into it. He hits some buttons, and his eyes begin scanning my phone before they cut back up to me.

  “Why would you keep this to yourself?” He growls, smacking his hand on the counter, causing me to flinch. I feel my eyes fill with tears.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. I have been dealing with Jason’s shit for years. More years than you could even comprehend. And I finally had enough so I left. I took what little money I had and I got the fuck out of New Jersey and I never looked back. I couldn’t. Looking back meant slowing down and if I would have slowed down, he would have found me, and I refused to let that happen. I spent the last four years rebuilding my life, taking self-defense classes, and learning how to shoot a gun. And then I take this fantastic job in Alabama, thinking there’s no way he would follow me here. I didn’t expect to meet you, Crawford. I wasn’t looking, but then you came along, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with you. And your kids. And when Jason started threatening me, I didn’t want to drag you into it. If anything ever happened to you or Aria and Zane, I would never forgive myself.” I choke on a sob at the end, tears pouring down my face. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He moves around the corner of the counter and wraps me up in a hug.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. He’s clearly dangerous if he followed you all the way to Alabama. We need to let the police look at your phone and the letters he’s been sending you.” I nod my head while still hugging him.

  “Okay,” I sigh and pull back from him, wiping the leftover tears from my face. He tucks my hair behind my ear, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

  “I’ll call the police station. Why don’t you call and order a pizza for dinner? Just cheese for the kids and whatever you want for us?” He walks away to snag the landline in the hallway while I pull up the number of the pizza place and pull in a shaky breath, suddenly feeling like a hundred-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel better than I have in months and I owe it all to Ford. He makes me feel safe and cherished, things I never felt with Jason.

  ◆◆◆

  "Shit baby, you're soaked." He whispers into my ear, his fingers trailing up my slit, making my legs shake. I can feel my clit throbbing. I whimper in response.

  "Shhh.. you have to be quiet. Can you be a good girl and stay quiet?" He asks, nipping at my jaw before soothing the sting with his tongue. I shake my head because I'm not sure I can be quiet. He chuckles and drags his fingers over the swell of my breasts, stopping at my hardened peaks, giving them the attention they're begging for.

  Trailing his hand back up my chest he wraps his fingers around my throat and tips my chin up. His eyes darken.

  "You'll be quiet or I'll stop, do you understand?" I nod as best as I can. He rewards me by strumming his fingers on my clit. "Good girl," he growls, releasing his hold and settling himself between my thighs. I've never wanted to be dominated before, not after all the abuse Jase doled out, but something about the way Ford does it gets me so fucking hot.

  I arch my back off the bed as he runs his tongue up my slit, sucking my clit into his mouth. I moan. His head snaps up.

  "What the fuck did I say?" I am so turned on; I whimper again because he stopped. “Tsk, tsk. Can’t be quiet. Can’t follow directions. I guess I’m going to have to give you something to moan about it.”

  He climbs back up my body and presses a kiss to my lips and then whispers in my ear, “if at any point you’re too sore for this, say something, okay?” I nod my head and wrap my legs around him. He slides gently into me, bare. “Ford, fuck,” I moan out.

  “You love my cock, baby?” He asks while sliding out and back in. I don’t say anything. I can’t. I’m stunned speechless by dirty-talking-Ford and how much it turns me on. He chuckles at my silence.

  “Oh yeah, you love my cock.”

  I move in rhythm with him as he strokes in and out of me, thrusting in as far as he can before sliding out.

  “These sounds you’re making, these sexy moans,” he grunts, “your sweet fucking scent. All for me,” he grits out, slamming into me and I whimper in agreement. He picks up his speed, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the quiet space. I slide my hand down my body, reaching for my clit, needing to come.

  He narrows his eyes at me and grabs my wrist, pinning it to the bed above me.

  “You don’t come until I say you can come, do you understand me?” He d
emands, stilling his hips inside of me and waiting for my response.

  “Y-yes, I understand,” I promise, “but p-please, I need to come,” I beg, not caring how pathetic I sound, desperately seeking relief.

  He growls, a sound I’ve never heard come from him before. He snaps his hips in and out of me, his hand finally, fucking finally, finding my clit and pressing as hard as he can. My orgasm hits, tearing through me and I cry out. Ford slaps his free hand over my mouth to quiet me as I come, the waves of pleasure rolling through me, one right after another. His soft grunts filling my ears and he snaps his hips once, twice, and on the third time he sinks all the way inside of me.

  “Fuuuuuck,” he groans out, filling me with his release. He stays planted inside me for a few seconds before collapsing on top of me, pressing kisses to my heated skin. I slide my hands all over his chiseled body, moist with sweat. I want to keep this man forever.

  Ford

  A week has passed since Lex was attacked in her house and we are starting to get back into a groove. The police are still looking for Sophie and they’re investigating the claims we made against her ex. I’m calling him her ex because I refuse to acknowledge the fact that she’s still married to that piece of shit. He gave up any right to call her his wife the first time he ever raised his hand to her. Now that the police are aware of the situation, Alexis has sat down with an attorney to start the divorce proceedings. Unfortunately, since Jason is MIA right, now it’s a little harder to start the process until he’s found. According to the police department he works for, he took a leave of absence months ago and no one has heard from him since.

  Lex is handling everything incredibly well. She’s teaching every day and she’s in my bed every night. I want her close until Sophie and Jason are both found, and the kids understand. Besides, they love her just as much as I do.

  It’s crazy to admit it out loud, that I’m in love with someone who isn’t Zoe. But I didn’t plan it and I’m trying not to be so hard on myself. I think if Zoe could have picked another woman for me, she would have chosen Alexis. She’s grace personified and she’s great with my kids. I’m just finishing up in my classroom for the day. I’m packing my laptop into my messenger bag when the door to my classroom flies open and crashes against the wall. I whip my head up to see Mr. DeMarco, Sophie’s father, barging into my room. His face is beet red and he’s breathing heavy. I stand up from my desk and sling my bag over my shoulder.

  “Jim,” I nod at him, “what can I do for you?” I say, shoving my hands in the pockets of my slacks. He points his finger at me, accusingly.

  “I know you know where my daughter is!” He shouts, prowling into the room even further. I arch an eyebrow at him.

  “I assure you I do not. If I knew where she was, her ass would be in jail already for attacking my girlfriend. I can understand you’re concerned about her and I can appreciate that. But she is in the wrong here.” I finish, powering off my smart board and pocketing my keys and phone.

  “All these years I thought you were mentoring her but come to find out you were just sleeping with her!” He spits out, saliva flying from his mouth.

  “If I were you, I would watch what I was saying, Jim. Once you say it, you can’t take it back. I never, and let me repeat NEVER, touched your daughter in any way shape or form. She was my babysitter and nothing more. You think I’m not suffering, too? Worrying about her well-being even though half the town believes I was having some scandalous affair with her? That I’m not reassuring Aria every single night that Sophie didn’t leave her and that yes, she still does love her?” I scoff, and walk to the door, “I assure you there was no intimate relationship between the two of us. She was my student and I was her teacher. That’s it.” His face falls a little bit and he shakes his head.

  “It’s just so hard to believe that my baby would do something like this,” he chokes out, dropping into a chair. Oookay, guess we aren’t leaving. I sigh, undoing my tie and dropping my bag on the floor. I roll my neck from side to side and walk over and pull a chair up in front of him.

  “I’m just as worried about her as you are, Jim. She’s been the kids babysitter for years. We love her like she is family, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through, not knowing where she’s at. But we need to focus on the bigger picture here. We have to find Soph and get her the help she needs, okay?” He meets my eyes and nods his head.

  “I’m sorry for accusing you. It’s hard to believe that my baby did this.” I can’t disagree with him there. It is hard to believe and if it weren’t happening to us personally, I probably wouldn’t believe it either. I stand.

  “Let’s go. I’ll buy you a drink.” I say, grabbing my stuff and locking up behind us.

  Lex

  I drag my ass through the front door of my bungalow. This week has been torture. Between teaching and cheer competitions for the girls on top of me worrying about where Sophie is and if she’s okay, I am dog-ass-tired. I don’t think the girl is a monster, I just really think she needs help.

  “Riss, you here?” I call out, dropping my bag on the ground. Her car is parked out front so she should be here. I find her in the kitchen sitting at the counter. There is a bottle of scotch in front of her and a small notebook.

  “Hey boo,” I say, snagging a glass and plopping down on the stool next to her. I pour a shot and peek over her shoulder at her notebook. “Whatcha doing?” I ask. It looks like a journal entry. Dated a few months before she showed up on my doorstep. I look at her face and can tell she’s been crying.

  “Hey, what is this? What’s going on?” I ask, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She drops her head to my shoulder and pulls in a shaky breath.

  “I think I’m finally ready to talk,” she whispers, sliding the notebook over to me. I was right, it is a journal entry.

  “Are you sure? Because you don’t have to. I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  She nods and sniffles. “I’m ready. My therapist thinks I’m ready, too.” Therapist? I had no clue she was going to therapy. She taps the book with her finger. “She has me doing these journal entries, thinks it will help me to write it all down. Read this,” she whispers, “then we’ll chat.”

  She stands and moves to the opposite end of the kitchen and presses her forehead against the patio door, staring outback. I drop my eyes down to the notebook and begin reading.

  I can’t believe I’m writing this. I know my therapist says it will help, but I’m not sure anything ever will. It feels like I’m living someone else’s life, like this is some made for Lifetime movie shit or something. It all happened so fast. One minute I was locking up the studio and the next minute I was up against the side of the building with a knife pressed to my throat. Terror. That’s all I felt.

  “Don’t say a word or I’ll slit your throat and let you bleed out, do you understand me?” He spoke against my ear, voice low. I nodded. “Good, now, you’re going to unlock that door and we are going to go back inside,” my hands shook. I turned the key that was still in the lock the opposite direction and he shoved the door open. I stumbled and righted myself as he shut the door and locked it behind him, turning back around. This huge man that towered over me. All I could see were his eyes. He had a handkerchief covering the bottom half of his face and a black beanie over his hair.

  “Strip,” he ordered, prowling toward me. I shook my head and put my hands out in front of me, backing away from him.

  “No, please. You can have whatever you want. The money out of the safe. My car. I swear, just please, god no,” my voice cracked at the same time my back hit the wall. He closed in on me, wrapping his hand around my throat.

  “I don’t want your fucking money, Clarissa,” he hissed, grabbing me by my arm and dragging me into a dark studio. “Always prancing around in those fucking yoga shorts and your sports bra, teasing me,” he said, shedding his coat and shoving me to the ground. I’ve spent so many sleepless nights trying to think of how I could know this monster, how he c
ould call me by name.

  He ripped the front of my shirt open and I screamed, trying to fight him, but it wasn’t any use. All I could do was lay there while he raped me. Stole something that wasn’t his. I fought. I said no, but he didn’t stop until he was finished.

  I don’t know how long I laid there curled up into a ball after he left, sobs wracking my body. It had to have been hours before the night janitor found me and called the police.

  I still find it hard to believe that something like this could have happened to me. Shit like this happened to other people. I’ve spent hours in therapy and it’s helping. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe again, though. How will I ever be able to be with a man after what’s happened to me?

  I’m sobbing by the time I finish reading the journal entry. I can hear Clarissa sobbing, too.