Page 14 of Sam
Protectiveness wells up in me as she whimpers in her sleep. Cupping her head, I stroke it until she settles again. Once I know she’s sleeping deeply, only then do I move out from under her, settling her against the worn cushions of the couch I have in here. I know from experience that it’s comfortable as fuck, which is one of the reasons I’ve never gotten rid of it. She curls up, pulling her knees to her chest in a defensive pose that has me clenching my hands. Standing, I rub at the ache in my chest. Leaning over, I open the box that holds blankets that my sisters have left here over the years. Finding the softest one that I can, I cover Ally with it, tucking it around her until she’s cocooned in its warmth.
I stand there staring at her for a minute, my gaze roaming over her features, taking in the arched dark brows against the paleness of her skin, the deep bruising under her eyes. High cheekbones with light scattered freckles, full lips a tad too big for her face. I hadn’t been lying earlier when I called her beautiful. She is. And fragile, so fucking fragile.
It isn’t lost on me that I hadn’t enjoyed seeing her in either Brice’s or Ben’s arms yesterday, even though I know neither of them was interested in her, at least not in a relationship way. The wave of possessiveness had taken me by surprise.
Throughout my years of being fixated on Bella, I never felt possessive when another man hugged her. I wasn’t sure what was going on with me. What I did know was that I’d ensure that Ally would know she’d always be safe with me.
Walking away, I leave her to sleep, transferring the office phone to my mobile, ensuring that I’d handle all the calls this morning so Ally could rest. She deserves a break. She’d been working her arse off the last month sorting out my mess of paperwork, and she may not realise it, but I’ve noticed that I’ve had less waste-of-time clients in the last two weeks. I’m not sure how she’s weeding them out, but she can carry on doing whatever the hell she’s doing, with my blessing.
I’m in deep concentration, oiling a bespoke coffee table, when I hear someone at my door. Looking up, I see Reaper standing there. I hold up my hand when he opens his mouth and nod towards the couch.
Dad’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and then his face softens when he realises it’s Ally curled up on it.
Noiselessly, he walks towards me. It always amazes me how quiet he is when he walks. I’m assuming it’s something they gettaught in the military because all the older brothers walk the same way.
He waits to speak until he’s close to me, and then it’s only above a whisper, “Hey, son.”
“Hi, Dad. Everything okay?” I murmur in reply.
“You weren’t at the gym this morning, and then I noticed the shop wasn’t open, so thought I’d better check on you. I understand now,” he explains.
I lay down the brush and close the oil, motioning for him to follow me outside, where we can talk without worrying about waking Ally up. Not wanting to go too far away and leave her alone, I only go as far as his bike that’s parked next to Ally’s car.
“Ally turned up early this morning. She couldn’t sleep last night because her parents took her little brothers away for a long weekend, and she doesn’t want her family to know she’s still struggling. When she arrived, she was pretty upset and fell asleep on the couch. She looks like she needs it.”
Dad grimaces. “It was a fucked-up thing that happened. I’m glad she feels safe here and knows that she can come here when she doesn’t want to be alone at home. I’ll let your mum know to come and open up.”
“Okay,” I agree. “The office phone is transferred to my mobile, so I’ll take any calls that come in this morning. I’ll check on Ally when she wakes up, but I won’t insist she works today. I don’t know when Adam, Tilly, and the boys are back. If it’s tomorrow or Monday, I’ll see if she wants one of the girls to sleep over or if she’d like to call Jeanie.”
“Okay, son, I’ll leave you to it.” Dad swings a leg over his bike and lifts his helmet. “Proud of you, son. I know I don’t say itenough, but I’m proud of you. Hope you know that. I’m not surprised she feels safe with you.”
Emotion clogs my throat. I’m not sure he knows how much it means to me that he feels that way.
“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him, sticking my hands in my pockets. He looks at me for a minute longer, then puts his helmet on, starts his bike, and rides out with a wave of his hand.
Walking back into my workshop, the first thing I do is look towards Ally, and I’m pleased to see she’s still asleep, although she’s moved and is now on her back with an arm resting over her head, her shirt riding up her belly towards her breasts. I can just see the beginnings of a deep scar marring her perfect white skin. It looks painful, and I hope it isn’t. She’s gone through enough pain from what I can tell.
An hour later, I look up when I hear footsteps again and see it’s Mum. She checks on a deeply sleeping Ally first before walking over to me.
“You can transfer the phone to the office again,” she tells me. “I’ll be in most of the day. If Ally feels up to it, she can come in; if not, then let her go home.”
“Okay,” I agree. Mum doesn’t hang around. Once she lets me know what she’s doing, she walks out of the workshop to the office, and I go back to work. It’s maybe an hour later when Ally stirs. Walking over, I squat down next to her. My fingers seem to have a will of their own as they trace over her forehead and down her cheek.
“Hey, beautiful,” I croon softly to her as she slowly wakes up and turns her hazy blue eyes towards me. She smiles, “Sam,” she says, lifting a hand and cupping my cheek. Instinctively, I lean into it, trapping it between my shoulder and my cheek. Ally rubsa thumb over my cheek, her eyes never leaving mine. “Thank you for making me feel safe.”
Turning my head, I press a kiss to her palm, curling her fingers around it. “Welcome, beautiful,” I assure her. She smiles again and stretches out on the couch, her shirt lifting until I see more of the scar. I trace my finger down its side; instantly her skin gets goosebumps. “Does it hurt?” I ask, lifting my eyes to hers.
“Sometimes,” she replies with a grimace. “I hate it. It’s a reminder of a night I’d rather forget.”
I continue to trace it with a finger; my attention doesn’t seem to bother Ally, and while the sight of that scar fills my belly with anger that someone had hurt her, I can’t help but also be pleased that she doesn’t mind my hands on her. Her scar is long, about ten inches; it seems longer than it should be, and I say so.
“It is,” she agrees. “I had two infections in it, and they had to cut away some of the infection. It was a whole thing. I’m only glad he didn’t have any diseases or anything. That was my biggest worry, but he was surprisingly healthy for a stalker.”
My gaze meets hers. “Babe,” I admonish her, making light of it. She gives me a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve learned to make macabre jokes about the entire ordeal when I can. It’s not a healthy way to deal with it, I know, but sometimes, I can’t stop myself.”
“Hey,” I tell her, wrapping my hand around hers, “you deal with your feelings how you want to deal with them, not like everyone thinks you should. I don’t care how you handle them as long as you’re okay at the end of the day.”
Her lip trembles at my words. “Oh, Sam. That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
