The Brightest Sunset (The Darkest Sunrise #2)

I’d never blocked Porter’s number.

But I could guess who had. The same man who had gone through my phone and read my text messages. The same man who, only hours earlier, had warned me not to cross him.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” I breathed, pressing the magical unblock button.

And then my heart stopped as a voicemail notification popped up on my screen, Porter’s name in the bubble.

I immediately hit play, chills pebbling my skin as his deep, desperate voice filled my ear, “Hey, sweetheart. I just got Travis’s text.”

“Porter. Stop,” Tanner said in the background.

“Please don’t stop,” I whispered, gnawing on my bottom lip.

“God, baby. What a fucking day,” Porter said before releasing a hard exhale into the phone. “I’m on my way now. Tell Travis I love him. Actually…Christ, I love both of you.”

I slapped a hand over my mouth.

But Porter from days ago continued in my ear, his voice taking on a low, familiar rumble, “Stay out of the darkness until I get there, Charlotte. I swear on my life I had no idea he was your son. I promise we’ll figure this out.”

The message ended, but with burning lungs, I pressed play again.

“Hey, sweetheart. I just got Travis’s message…”

I stood up and began to pace, my chest constricting as he said, “Actually…Christ, I love both of you.”

When the message ended, I pressed play again. This time focusing on a different sentence.

“I swear on my life I had no idea he was your son.”

Thirteen words.

And call me na?ve, stupid, or whatever, but I believed every single one of them.

I pressed play again.

And then again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over until I couldn’t breathe around the lump in my throat.

I wasn’t sure what had changed and why he hadn’t shown up that night. Probably the protection order Brady had so adamantly sworn we needed.

Brady.

Brady.

Fucking Brady.





* * *





“What do you think Travis’s friend’s house looks like?” Hannah asked as I unbuckled her from her car seat.

“I don’t know, baby.”

“How many sleeps until he comes home?”

Sighing, I put her on my hip and headed up the sidewalk to my parents’ front door. “I don’t know.”

It made me a coward, but I’d chickened out on telling her the truth about Travis. She wouldn’t have understood. Instead, I told her that he was staying with a friend for a little bit. She’d asked approximately seven million questions in the week since he’d been gone, each one slicing me to the quick. Eventually, I’d have to tell her the truth. But, hopefully, not today.

“Does his friend have a TV in his room?” she chirped.

“I don’t know.”

“Can I have a TV in my room?”

I grinned down at her. “No.”

My stomach was in knots, and my nerves had left me with jitters all morning, but she always managed to make me smile. She was the only thing that had kept me going over the last week.

My mom swung the front door open before I had the chance to knock. Clapping her hands together, she reached for Hannah. “There’s my girl.”

“Nana!” Hannah squealed, diving from my arms. “Guess what? Travis’s friend has a TV in his bedroom.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh, he does?”

I shrugged and stepped forward to kiss my mom’s temple. “I have no idea. Where’s Tanner?”

“Right here,” he said, rounding the corner, wearing a tailor-made navy-blue suit.

“Hey, Uncle Tan.”

He winked and moved closer to tickle her. “Hey, beautiful.”

She giggled wildly.

Catching his bicep, I dragged him into the dining room.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t wrinkle the suit,” he complained.

I flashed my gaze back to Hannah, who was prattling on about God only knew what, but my mom’s nervous, blue eyes were leveled on me. I shot her a placating smile and then gave her my back.

“Full custody?” I seethed at my brother. “Have you fucking lost your mind?”

“Relax. Kurt knows what he’s doing.”

Tanner had brought in three of the best attorneys in the country to work with Mark. Seriously, when my brother set his mind on something, he went from zero to a million in one point five seconds. As far as he was concerned, what was supposed to be a preliminary custody hearing quickly became the likes of the OJ Simpson trial.

I’d begged him to keep it all on the down low, but where Tanner went, so did the media.

But, even though I appreciated his support, I was done with the fanfare. I wanted my son back and not to have our laundry aired out for the entire world.

“Fuck Kurt. This is ridiculous, and I can’t handle it. Screaming that I’m trying to take him away from Charlotte and Brady isn’t going to win me any sympathy. Full custody is a threat. And, if you or Kurt think otherwise, you’re clearly not a parent.”

His eyebrows shot up. I hoped it was because he was starting to understand, but more likely, it was because he could tell I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Okay, okay. We’ll tell Kurt to back down,” he assured. “Just take a deep breath and try to stay positive.”

Oh, I was positive.

Positive I was losing my mind.

Positive I needed to get my son back.

Positive Catherine had fucked me from beyond the grave.

Keeping all of that to myself, I drew in a deep breath and cracked my neck.

“Better,” he praised. Then he straightened my tie. “I’m impressed. You look almost human.”

I’d barely been surviving over the last week. I’d spent almost every day at the police station, “cooperating” with the investigation. Which really just meant I was spending my days sitting in a room while they scoured through my past and searched for a reason to arrest me. So far, the truth had successfully kept me out of a pair of cuffs. But I hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours over the last seven days. I was tired, physically and emotionally, and I missed my son something fierce.

But the days kept going without me.

Sunrise.

Sunset.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I swatted Tanner’s hand away. “I don’t feel human.”

He patted my shoulder. “Well, let’s hope today changes that.”

There wasn’t enough hope in the world for how much I needed today to change it.

“Dad!” Tanner shouted, strutting to where Mom was still standing at the front door. “Let’s go. We’re pulling out.”

Dad came barreling down the stairs. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Quit your yelling.”

He paused for only a second to kiss Mom and tickle Hannah’s neck before we were all out the door and heading to Tanner’s Mercedes.

“Keep me updated!” Mom called after us. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” we all yelled back in unison, climbing into the car.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs and asked, “Have you heard from Rita?”

His eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror. “She’s still not talking to me.”

“Shit,” I breathed, fighting the urge to rake a hand through my hair. I’d spent thirty minutes styling it, doing my best to look like I had it all together while I was falling apart.