The Brightest Sunset (The Darkest Sunrise #2)

Dad turned in his seat. “Have you talked to Mark?”

“At least seven hundred and fifty times,” I answered, shifting in my seat, unable to sit still.

“And what’s the latest?”

“There is no latest. The protection order is still in place. And me getting any kind of custody is basically the long shot of the century. And probably smaller than that now that Kurt has announced I’m petitioning for full custody.” I peered out the window, my throat on fire.

My dad reached back and patted my leg. “It’s gonna work out, Porter. Have a little faith. You’re a good dad. Travis loves you. The judge will see that.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Hey!” Tanner interrupted. “Don’t turn into Pity Porter back there. This is going to happen. End of story. Remember when we first found out about his heart? There was only one option. This is no different.”

I nodded and went back to staring out the window. Optimism wasn’t exactly my strong suit anymore.

We rode in silence the rest of the way to the courthouse. It wasn’t the comfortable silence Charlotte and I shared. It was merely the deceptive lull before the hurricane.

Reaching into my pocket, I felt the crinkled edges of that familiar cocktail napkin I’d tucked in there before we left. The one I’d drawn on what felt like an eternity ago—that silly map that had shown her how to escape the restaurant on our first date. And there I was, weeks later, preparing to go head-to-head with her over the custody of my son.

Her son.

But not our son.

What I wouldn’t have given for someone to draw me a map so I could escape this hell.

Twenty minutes later, after we’d parked, passed through the metal detectors, and made it into the courthouse, Mark, Kurt, and two other fancy-ass attorneys I mentally referred to as TweedleDee and TweedleDumb met us outside of a courtroom that wasn’t nearly big enough for the decision being made inside it.

“How you holding up, Porter?” Mark asked.

I shook his outstretched hand and answered honestly. “I’m not.”

“Well, let’s see if we can fix that. You ready?”

My nerves ignited. “Not at all. But I guess it’s now or never.”

Dad cupped my shoulder, and Tanner patted my back.

Shaking my arms out, I prepared for war.

Mark opened the door to courtroom C, and then, on legs that felt as though they were filled with lead, I made my way inside flanked by my legal team.

I wasn’t two steps through the door before my desperate gaze found her.

My body locked up tight, but I somehow managed to keep my legs moving.

I couldn’t see her face. She was sitting at the table in the front of the room, Brady beside her. Her shoulders were hunched forward, and his fingers—all of which I wanted to break—were splayed across her back.

As if she could read my mind, she roughly shrugged his hand away.

It had only been a week since I’d seen her, but she somehow looked different.

She was wearing a short-sleeve, silk, peach-colored blouse. Peach. Fucking ridiculous. My Charlotte wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything other than black. But I had to remind myself that her dreams had come true. Maybe she was a different woman now.

Her hair was down, long and straight. At least that was the same. And I almost smiled when she nervously pulled it up into a ponytail only to release it. She did this a lot.

It was how I knew she was winding herself up.

And how I had known when to step in and take her hand, giving her something else to focus on.

My hands twitched to do just that.

I moved on autopilot as my attorneys guided me to a table at the front of the room, my gaze glued to her back, begging her to give me her eyes.

My dad and Tanner filed into the row of chairs behind us, but I kept watching her.

Through it all, the room carried on around us. People rising. A judge entering. People sitting. Our attorneys spoke in jargon I didn’t understand. Her attorney whispered in her ear. Brady wrote something on a notepad and then showed it to her. She shoved it away without even reading it.

But she never looked in my direction.

“Mr. Reese,” the judge called, snapping my attention off her.

“Yes. Right here.” I shot to my feet. Why? I didn’t know. It just seemed like I should be standing when they ripped the rug out from underneath me.

“Have a seat, son,” he stated, his round belly showing beneath his black robe.

“Right.” I glanced at Charlotte, but she was staring straight ahead, her profile unreadable.

“It seems we have a unique situation here,” he stated.

I gave the judge my sole attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you know this is going to take some time to figure all this out.”

I nodded. “I do understand that. And I’m okay with that as long as I’m allowed to spend time with my son while we do that.”

“That’s where we’re going to have trouble. I’m sorry, Mr. Reese—”

An icy panic crept through my extremities and into my chest. “It’s not his fault,” I interrupted. “Travis. It’s not his fault that Catherine kidnapped him. It’s not his fault that he grew up without his parents.” I swung a hand out, motioning to Charlotte. “But I do believe it should be his choice who he wants to live with.”

Brady shot to his feet, leaning forward on his knuckles as he exclaimed, “He’s ten! He doesn’t get to decide.”

“Mr. Boyd,” the judge warned.

I ignored his outburst. “He would choose me, sir. Every time. I love my son. I’ve done everything in my power to give him a life despite his health issues and the trauma the woman he thought was his mother cowardly inflicted on us all.”

“Bullshit,” Brady snarled. “You didn’t do shit. Where the hell were you when that whack job was driving my son off a fucking bridge?”

“Brady!” Charlotte scolded.

The judge slammed his gavel and called for order.

But there was none to be found.

Not in a situation like that.

Not when three parents were willing to fight to the death over one innocent child.

I slapped a hard hand on my chest, grinding my teeth together as I seethed, “I was in that fucking water saving him!”

Mark stepped in front of me. “Shut up. You aren’t helping your case with this.”

“He could have been killed!” Brady continued.

“I’m the only reason he’s alive! And I want him back!” I roared.

“You’ll never see him again!” he swore as one of the uniformed officers tried to force him to sit down, another getting in my face.

Reluctantly, I quieted, but Tanner took my place.

“You want to point fingers? Where the hell were you the day he was taken in the first place?”

“No!” I yelled at Tanner, shooting back to my feet. I swung my gaze to Charlotte. She was still facing forward, but her body was rigid and her mouth had fallen open. “That was no one’s fault. That was all Catherine.”

“Calm down or you’re all spending the night in a cell!” the judge ordered.