The Darkest Sunrise (The Darkest Sunrise #1)

God knew there were dozens of articles about Catherine’s “accident,” pictures and even videos of me dragging Travis out of the water. I’d have given anything to erase those from the history books, and as I’d shut my computer down that night, I figured Charlotte would probably feel the same way.

I had typed out a million texts to her over the two weeks since I’d seen her—some of them funny, some of them sad, all of them desperate. My conscience hadn’t allowed me to send any of them. I refused to be the man who caused her more pain.

And bringing her into my life and then parading Travis and Hannah in front of her would have done just that.

Rita had been right; Charlotte had been through enough.

“I’m fine,” I assured. “Tired but fine. Hopefully, I’ll be out of here in the next half hour, so you don’t have to spend the night if you’d rather wait up until I get there.”

“Are you crazy? It’s eleven o’clock and raining, Porter. Your father’s head would explode if I drove home tonight.”

I chuckled. “This is true.”

“But,” she drawled. “Since I’m stuck here anyway, why don’t you go out with Tanner tonight? Maybe hit a disco or something.”

“Uh…because I’m thirty-four and it hasn’t been called a disco since I was, like, negative ten.”

“Oh, hush. Thirty-four is young, honey. Oh, I know! What about that lady you went out with a few weeks ago? Call her and see if she wants to go dancing. Women love to dance.”

“Mom, stop. I’m tired. I have beyond no desire to go out dancing tonight. Or any other night, for that matter. So please, leave it alone.”

“Okay, okay. Jeesh. I was only trying to be helpful. You spend all of your time either working or taking care of the kids. You know it’s not a crime for you to have a life, Porter.”

I groaned. “That’s my job, Mom. To work hard so I can afford to take care of the kids and then come home and actually do it.”

“You deserve to have some free time in there.”

“You’re right. I do. But that free time isn’t going to be spent going out dancing. It’s gonna be spent catching up on much-needed sleep or hitting the grocery store without Hannah begging for the entire cookie aisle.”

She sighed. “You know, this might be the only time in your entire life that I’ll say this, but it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more like Tanner.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and dropped my head against the back of the chair. “Well, if it’s that important to you, I’ll take my shirt off while I’m cooking the kids breakfast in the morning.”

She laughed. “Don’t do that. You’ll end up with third-degree burns.”

I smiled. “Okay. Now, are we done with that?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good. Are the kids asleep?”

“Hannah is, but Trav is sitting here staring at me. I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Put him on,” I said, sliding my desk drawer open and peering inside as I’d done so many times recently.

Truth was, I would have loved to have a night out, but I would have wanted it to be with Charlotte. Hell, I would have taken her out dancing if that was all I got. Though I could almost picture her horrified expression at the idea of going into a nightclub.

I was chuckling at the thought when his voice came across the line.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, bud. Why are you still awake?”

He sucked in a deep breath that sounded like music to my ears. He’d been doing marginally better. Breathing treatments were still a way of life, but he hadn’t been back to the hospital, so I chalked it up as progress.

“I’ve got Minecraft-itis,” he said.

I smiled. “That sounds serious.”

“It is. And the current treatment plan isn’t working. I think it’s time to take more aggressive measures and talk to Grandma about giving me back my iPad.”

I laughed. “Bud, it’s eleven and you have school tomorrow.”

His voice remained serious. “No. I have a tutor coming over tomorrow morning. Then I have to spend four hours doing school work. And, by then, I might have wasted away from the effects of this terrible disease. I think we can both agree no one wants that.”

My lips lifted in a genuine smile only my boy could give me. “I love you, Travis.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

“No. Go to bed. I hear Minecraft-itis goes into remission when you sleep. Give it a try and I’ll check on you when I get home to make sure your hands haven’t turned into pickaxes and your body into diamond armor.”

He groaned. “You suck.”

“I so, completely do. And you’re welcome. Now, go to bed.”

I could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

“Fine.” He paused. “I love you, Dad.”

My heart twisted and grew all at the same time. “I love you too, Trav. More than you will ever know.”

My mom came back on the line. “Okay, baby. I’m going to hit the hay now. You be careful driving home.”

“I will, and I’ll be quiet when I come in. Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hung up and reached into the open drawer to pull out that crumbled-up cocktail napkin map.

Yeah. I’d kept it.

Yeah. It made me a bitch.

Yeah. I didn’t give a single fuck.

For a few hours, I’d sat at that booth and forgotten about the world outside. I’d listened to a broken woman laughing, and as stupid as it might sound, it had done wonders to soothe the hate inside me.

I traced my fingers over the arrows I’d made leading to the exits, wishing I had taken her hand, dragged her out of that restaurant, and disappeared into the night with her at my side. In that world, outside those doors, Travis wasn’t sick, Charlotte wasn’t shattered, and I was able to extinguish the fire blazing inside me once and for all. In other words, the impossible.

Closing my eyes, I tossed it back into the drawer.

I was rising to my feet, heading for the door to help the staff finish closing up so we could all get the hell out of there, when I heard the commotion outside.

“I said, wait up front!” Emily, the hostess, called out as my office door swung open.

My whole body locked up tight as a woman came flying inside.

And then my heart stopped, unsure if she was real.

I blinked. Then blinked again. It didn’t look like her, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

She was soaking wet from the rain, tears dripping from her eyes, her eye makeup running down her ghostly white face, and her entire body was trembling.

“Charlotte,” I rasped, slipping around my desk.

Emily appeared behind her. “I’m sorry, Porter. I asked her to wait out front.”

I lifted a hand to cut her off, never tearing my gaze away from the woman I’d somehow willed into fruition. “It’s fine. Shut the door behind yourself.”

“Yeah. Okay. Sorry,” she rushed out, and then I heard the door click.

Alone.

My heart slammed against my ribs and thundered in my ears.

I took a slow step forward, cautious as though the movement might spook her.

She didn’t say anything as she stared at me with wild eyes, her chin quivering, her mouth opening and closing as if she were trying to talk.

I curled a finger in the air. “C’mere.”

She didn’t move, so I stepped closer and kept my voice soft, my arms aching to reach her.