The Darkest Sunrise

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

A pang of sadness hit my stomach.

Better than I will tonight when you go home.

“Good.”

“Good. Then let’s do it again,” he said, nuzzling his head into the pillow before closing his eyes.

I chuckled and propped my head up with an elbow to the bed.

Porter was gorgeous, even at eight in the morning, with a thick layer of scruff covering his jaw and sleep—and sex—mussed hair. But it was the man inside that had captivated me so completely. The world was still spinning, but for the first time, I didn’t feel the overwhelming need to keep up. Time moved slower when we were together.

Over the last few weeks, another of my fingers had slipped off the cliff, but my grip was still firm. Progress was progress though, no matter how small it was. I’d stopped going to the park and my old house. The urge was still there, but it almost felt liberating not to give in to it.

I’d known Porter for all of a month and I was leaps and bounds closer to reclaiming my life than I had been in ten years. And the most amazing part of all was that I was doing it by myself—with him at my side.

Porter lived by the rules. He never asked me questions, though I still told him answers. And, when I gave them to him, he didn’t judge my truths. He had this incredible knack for recognizing the exact moment I’d escape into my head to distract myself from the pain of whatever had triggered me. And he’d patiently wait there for me to return. He never once gave me a reason to fake a smile. He’d just hold my hand and let me be. If I wanted to open up, I did. If I didn’t, that was okay too. But I was never alone in the darkness. Not while he was there—even if that was only on the other end of a phone call.

But, right then, after having spent the night laughing, making love until the wee hours of the morning, and falling asleep wrapped in his arms, I felt something I had never experienced stir inside me.

And I didn’t mean that I hadn’t experienced it in the ten years since my world had fallen dark.

This particular something inside me was the likes I’d never felt in my entire life.

And it was the most beautiful something of all.

My nose stung as I pressed my lips together, fighting against the inevitable.

“Stop staring at me,” he grumbled without opening his eyes.

I smiled, and it forced a single tear to slide down my cheek. I brushed it away and said, “It’s just that you’re really ugly in the mornings.”

He chuckled and pulled me down so my head rested on his pillow. “That’s not what you said at four a.m.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to forget the reason I’d woken up in the first place, but there was another loud knock at the door.

Porter’s eyes shot open. “You expecting company?”

“You’re here. Rita is most likely shacked up with your brother. And my mom has a strict Saturday-morning-mimosa routine in which she doesn’t leave the house until noon. So, no.”

He twisted his lips. “You think it’s one of the neighbors needing a bolster in morale?”

Exaggerating a groan, I rolled out of his arms and stood up. “Probably. Let me get my bra and panties on and see what I can do.”

He laughed and sat up, his heated gaze following me as I ambled to my dresser, pulled out a T-shirt and sleep pants, and shrugged them on.

He grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. “Get rid of the clothes before you come back in here. My x-ray vision isn’t what it used to be.”

I smiled. “You used to have x-ray vision?”

He winked. “How else do you think I see you in the dark?”

“Wouldn’t that be night vision?”

He stared off into the distance. “Well, what do you know? My superhuman abilities are multiplying.”

My lips twitched as I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Captain America. While I get the door, why don’t you try to unlock the powers that will enable you to put some pants on and start the coffee maker?”

“Captain America doesn’t really have any powers besides his strength and a shield.”

“Okay, then how about you use the shield to cover your ass while you get up and use your extra-strong finger to press the button on the coffee maker.”

He barked a laugh at the same time I heard her voice.

“Charlotte?” she called from my living room. “Honey? It’s Mom. I used my key, but just a heads-up, Tom’s with me. So maybe put on some clothes before coming out.”

“Shit,” I breathed.

Porter’s eyes got wide, and he scrambled from the bed, whispering, “What happened to mimosas?”

I shrugged and turned to the door. “No clue. But I’d highly suggest pants rather than the shield now.”

Smiling, I listened to Porter’s laughter fade behind the closed door as I headed down the hall. When I reached the living room, I found Tom and my mom standing in the entryway.

My lips fell as I took in my mom’s ashen face, and Tom’s arm anchored around her shoulders, his face equally pale.

Oh God.

Flashing my gaze between them, alarm bells screaming in my ears, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Honey, we need to talk,” she whispered, clutching her arms to her chest as if she were warding off a chill in the air. And, for the way the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and goose bumps pebbled my skin, she might have been.

I looked at Tom, my voice thick as I asked, “What’s going on?”

“Charlotte,” he started, only to stop when his eyes flicked to something over my shoulder. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”

My mother slapped a hand over her chest, and her eyes filled with tears, but she wasn’t looking at Porter. She was watching me, and her regret was palpable. “Oh God. He’s the guy who made you so happy at the restaurant.”

Porter’s arm snaked around my hips from behind and I felt his lips in my hair, but not even his warmth against my back could drive away the frigid air swirling around the room.

“Hi. I’m Porter Reese. Nice to meet—”

I didn’t let him finish. “Tom?” I prompted, taking a step forward.

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed and he cut his gaze away uncomfortably.

My lungs began to burn, and my pulse spiked. There was only one reason I could think of to explain why Tom and my mom had shown up at my place at eight in the morning, looking like they’d seen a ghost.

And, suddenly, I was terrified they had.

Tom’s gaze flicked back to mine, and his arm tensed around my mom. “We should talk in private, Charlotte.”

I shook my head as my skin began to tingle. “Tell me.”

Tom looked over my shoulder at Porter. “I’m gonna need you to leave, son.”

I blinked, and then all of the oxygen was stolen from the room.

This was it. The truth that was going to set me free and then make me want to die.

My body became solid, but as my soul turned to liquid, I found myself drowning in everything I had once been.

Porter’s front once again hit my back and his arms closed in around me, careful and insulating. But not even Porter’s darkness could protect me from this.

“Not happening,” Porter replied gruffly.

“Tell me,” I choked.

“Honey…” my mother started, pausing long enough to collect herself before continuing. “This is a private—”

“Tell me!” I yelled. What started as a chin quiver quickly worked its way down to a full-body shake as adrenaline ravaged my system.

My mother jumped and Tom instinctively took a step toward me, but it was Porter who kept me on my feet.

“Breathe,” he urged into the top of my hair as he attempted to tuck me into his side, but I was having none of it.

I didn’t want comfort. I wanted the answers, but I was afraid I wanted different answers than they were going to give me.

Pushing out of Porter’s arms, I stood on my own two shaking legs just like I had the day my boy had been taken and looked Tom directly in the eye. “Please.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, straightened his back, and then gave me the words I was so desperate to hear. “The body of a baby was uncovered at a construction site they were breaking ground on late last night.”