The Complete Darkest Sunrise Series

by Aly Martinez

  “I’m on my way. Stay on the phone.”

  “I have to go. He’s almost finished.”

  I planted Hannah in her car seat, buckled her in, and then hurried around to the driver’s side. “Charlotte, wait.” With a flick of the key, my Tahoe roared to life, and I snatched it into gear.

  “I have to go,” she breathed.

  A plethora of words danced on the tip of my tongue. Everything ranging from, Are you okay? to I love you. But, as I flew out of my neighborhood, one destination in mind, “I’ll be there soon,” were the only ones that escaped.

  It took me thirty agonizing minutes to get to her apartment. Hannah asked approximately seven thousand questions on the way over. I answered exactly none of them. I debated on swinging past my parents’ house to drop her off, but that might have been our only chance to see Travis, and damn it, I wasn’t taking that away from either of them.

  During the drive, my head swirled.

  Hope was telling me she was going to give him back.

  Fear was telling me she was setting me up to break the protection order.

  My mind was telling me she was hurting and scared.

  My soul was telling me she was hurting and needed me.

  But, through it all, my son’s dark-brown eyes and wide smile guided my path.

  “Where are we?” Hannah asked as I unbuckled her from her car seat.

  I blew out a ragged breath and stared at the sidewalk that led to Charlotte’s front door—to him. “Travis’s new house.”

  Nerves rolled in my stomach, and my heart was beating so hard I thought it might burst from my chest, but she gasped so loudly I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Can I see him?” she breathed in excitement.

  “God, I hope so,” I admitted.

  One foot in front of the other, my legs devoured the distance to her door.

  I knocked once, blew out an anxious sigh, and then knocked again.

  My hand was still poised in the air when she swung it open.

  “Hi,” she squeaked. Her face was pale, and her hollow eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles supporting them from the bottom. She looked a lot like the woman lost in the darkness that I’d first met at that spring fling. And it fucking killed to see her like that, knowing the breathtaking smiles and heart-stopping laughs she was capable of.

  I forced a grin. “Hi.”

  Her gaze flicked to Hannah, who was on my hip, and she shot me a tight smile that made her chin quiver. “He’s in the bedroom.”

  Reaching out, I caught the back of her neck and pulled her against me.

  She came willingly, her hand going to my free hip and twisting into my T-shirt.

  “Are you okay?” I asked before pressing my lips to her forehead.

  “No,” she croaked. “But he will be.” She stepped out of my reach and swung a hand toward the bedroom. “Go. We can talk later.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. With hurried steps, I carried Hannah straight to Charlotte’s bedroom. Not even bothering with a knock, I shoved the door open wide.

  And then the most indescribable peace I had ever experienced washed over me as my world finally stilled.

  Travis’s head snapped up from the iPad he’d been playing on. He didn’t look any different than the last time I’d seen him.

  He was too thin.

  Too pale.

  Too sick.

  But, when I saw him now, he did look a lot like Charlotte.

  And he was still one hundred percent mine.

  “Dad!” he screamed, exploding off the bed.

  I raced toward him, not stopping until he collided with my front.

  “Dad,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around my waist, his shoulders shaking in time with my own.

  “Hey, Trav,” I choked out, patting his back while setting my squirming daughter down so she could get in on the love too.

  “Travis!” she giggled, stepping into his side, mirroring his hold on me, and hugging the life out of him.

  Warmth filled my chest as I dropped to my knees and palmed each side of his face. I planted a kiss to his forehead that, only a week ago, he would have complained about. Now, he wiggled even closer, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  I sat at the foot of the bed, and he followed me closely, wedging himself between my legs, Hannah still attached to him.

  He rested his head against my shoulder like he had done so often when he had been younger, but not in years.

  “How you doing, buddy?” I asked quietly, smoothing his hair down before pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

  “I want to come home,” he whined.

  “I know. I want that too.”

  He peered up at me expectantly. “Then why can’t I?”

  The vise on my chest wrenched tight, and I lifted my gaze to the doorway.

  Charlotte was standing there, twin rivers pouring from her eyes, a myriad of emotions etched in her face, all of them terrorizing her.

  With my heart in my throat, I glanced around at the absolute devastation Catherine had caused all of us.

  My son was fighting the battle of his life with his health; he didn’t need this shit on top of it.

  My daughter was hurting and confused because she was losing her big brother and best friend.

  Charlotte had been lost for almost a decade, and now, she had her son back, but she was living, breathing, and suffering through his pain the way any good mother would.

  And I… Well, I was falling apart. But I was also the only one left to pick up the pieces.

  “We’re going to figure this out,” I announced to the entire room. “I’m here now. And we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

  Charlotte nodded and started to back out of the room.

  “Sweetheart,” I called, and her sad gaze lifted to mine. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  She nodded again and started to pull the door closed.

  My body screamed for me to stop her.

  To ask her to stay.

  To drag her into the darkness and ease both of our hearts.

  But, judging by Travis’s death grip around my neck, my son needed some time with his father in the light.

  “Don’t go far,” I told her.

  She slid her gaze to Travis. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

  “Charlotte,” I breathed in apology.

  She faked a smile. “I’ll see what I can drum up for dinner.” She paused and then added, “For all of us.”

  The door clicked softly behind her.

  My body sagged in a confusing mixture of relief and defeat.

  “Daddy,” Hannah whispered, patting my thigh.

  I looked down at her. “Yeah?”

  With wide eyes, she shook her head. “Guess what? There’s no TV in Travis’s new room.”

  “There’s no TV in the whole place,” Travis complained.

  I slapped a hand over my heart and cried out dramatically, “Oh God, say it ain’t so!”

  Travis glowered.

  Hannah giggled.

  And I smiled because, regardless that our lives were in shambles, in that moment, with Travis on my right and Hannah on my left, everything was right.

  Over the next two hours, the three of us stayed locked in that room. Alone while the chaos of reality continued to roar outside.

  Travis asked questions I didn’t have the answers to. I made promises I couldn’t possibly uphold. But, for those minutes with him lying in the bed beside me, a game of Minecraft playing on his iPad, his heart beating slow and steady, his breaths even and easy, I felt not an ounce of guilt for lying to him.

  He needed that.

  The simple.

  The predictable.

  The monotony.

  And, a few hours later, as he fell asleep next to his sister, the sun barely sinking over the horizon, I learned how badly they both needed it.

  And I had a feeling they weren’t the only ones.

  * * *

  I was sitting on my co
uch, my knees pulled to my chest, a glass of untouched wine on the end table, my mind lost in thought, when I heard the bedroom door open.

  I fought the urge to fly up off the couch.

  “Pizza’s on the counter,” I called, keeping my eyes aimed at the wall. “I wasn’t sure what kind you guys would like so I got a few different—ooph.”

  I was cut off when Porter’s hard body hit me. One of his arms hooked under my knees, the other wrapping around my back. And then the couch disappeared from beneath me.

  “What the—”

  “Shh!” he demanded.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-yelled, looping my arms around his neck to balance myself.

  “Your apartment’s too small,” he rumbled, carrying me straight to the bathroom in the hallway.

  “I’m working on getting a house. It’s just taking some time.”

  “Mm,” he hummed, setting my ass on the bathroom vanity. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on either side of me and got in my face, his piercing, blue eyes searching mine. “Please tell me you believe me when I say that I had nothing to do with Catherine taking your son.”

  “I…uh…know. I heard your message.”

  His gaze darkened. “You listen to all of it?”

  I licked my lips and nodded. “I just got it last night. Brady blocked your number on my phone.”

  “Right,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sorr—”

  “I had no fucking idea he was your son. You have to believe me or this is as far as we can ever go.”

  My heart swelled. “I believe you.”

  He eyed me warily and then warned, “No faking it, Charlotte.”

  I leaned into him and brushed my lips with his. “I believe you, Porter.”

  In one swift movement, he locked the bathroom door and flipped the lights off.

  I gasped as the familiar darkness flooded the room. My whole body sagged, but my pulse quickened in anticipation.

  Porter’s large frame moved toward me, his hips forcing my knees apart as he wedged his body between them. Gliding a hand into the back of my hair, he tucked my face into his neck. “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I lied, fisting the back of his shirt and nuzzling my cheek against his jaw, the most amazing calm of my life engulfing me.

  Using my hair to turn my head, he swept his lips up my neck, and then his breath flittered across my skin as he whispered in my ear, “No questions. No judgments. No faking it. No apologies. Give it to me.”

  A shiver traveled down my spine, and I swayed into him, our chests becoming flush.

  And then I gave it to him. Everything I could never give anyone else.

  “I think he hates me.”

  No sooner than the words had cleared my lips, he followed it up with a confession of his own. “I’m drowning in that car all over again without him.”

  My breath hitched, an apology burning on the tip of my tongue. But that wasn’t what Porter and I did in the darkness.

  Turning my head, I brushed my lips with his. “He told me that I only loved Lucas, and Catherine only wanted him to replace Travis.” I paused to collect myself. “He thinks you were the only one who ever wanted him.”

  His body turned to stone, but his head hung low. “Jesus.”

  My throat became thick, and I was barely able to speak. “I love him. I swear I do. But he’s right. I want him to be Lucas.”

  His fingers tensed in my hair, but the pain at my scalp did nothing to distract me from the anguish in my chest.

  “God, it feels so filthy even saying it out loud. You have to know that I love him. Down to the core of my soul, but he’s like a stranger to me.” I tried to push off the counter, desperate for some space, but Porter moved in closer, blocking my retreat.

  “He was a stranger to me once. Now, he is the core to my soul. He and Hannah. That’s my life. That love wasn’t ingrained into me at birth the way it was you, but it grew into a wildfire. And I don’t know how to turn it off. And I’m terrified the courts are going to ask me to do just that.”

  “Oh God,” I breathed, hooking my legs around his hips and locking them at the ankle as if I could hug him tight enough to erase the pain.

  His hand drifted down my back and then crept under the hem of my shirt, flesh to flesh. “Your turn, Charlotte.”

  “I can’t give him to you.”

  “I’ll never ask you to. But I won’t ever stop trying to get him back.”

  My body locked up tight, panic blasting through my system. “W…what?”

  He shook his head and pressed his lips to my temple. “There’s enough of him for both of us. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. He’s your son. But I’m begging you not to forget that he’s mine too.”

  Closing my eyes, even though the room was already pitch-black, I whispered, “I have no idea what I’m doing. These should be the happiest days of my life, and I can’t stop crying because I know he’s hurting.”

  His head came up, and while I couldn’t see him, I could feel his blue stare burning into me. “You’re hurting too.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  It wasn’t an accusation.

  It also wasn’t a lie.

  “We’re all hurting,” I admitted, clinging to his shoulders.

  “Not tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight, he’s happy. Tonight, I’m here with you. Tonight, we’re together. Tonight, nothing outside this apartment matters. Tonight, your son sleeps safely in your bed. Tonight, my kids sleep soundly for the first time in a week. And, tonight, we can share the darkness.”

  My mind drifted back to only a few weeks earlier, the first time Porter had taken me to the confessional in the darkness. It was a night I’d never forget because it was the first time I’d ever given myself to someone else. Not physically, though that had happened too. But emotionally. I’d offered him my deepest, darkest secrets. And he’d taken them, devoured them, and made them his own. He’d made the darkness a beautiful place filled with understanding and acceptance.

  Porter was like that. Everything was easier with him

  Everything except losing him.

  So I asked him the same question he’d asked me that first night together. “What’s going to happen when we turn on the lights?”

  “Just don’t let go and it won’t matter.”

  “How are we going to do this? Technically, Porter, you’re breaking the law by even being here. The police—”

  “I had nothing to do with the kidnapping,” he growled.

  “I know! And I believe you. But the police are still investigating you. You end up in jail for breaking the protection order, it’s not going to help anyone.”

  “So we lay low for a few weeks. But, damn it, Charlotte, we will find a way to make this work. This is my life. This is your life. This is his life. And her life. This is our life and you know it. We’ll figure out the details later, but for now, all I need from you is a promise that we are going to do this. No matter what. We’re in this together.”

  My heart soared higher than I ever thought possible. Porter had the most amazing knack of getting into my subconscious and untying the knots I so often made out of obstacles. With him, my thoughts weren’t jumbled and my fears weren’t roadblocks.

  “God, I missed you,” I breathed, giving him my very last confession.

  “Does that mean you’re with me?”

  “Yeah, baby. I’m with you.”

  “And we’re going to do this, right?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to do this.”

  And then Porter gave me his last confession, only his was a little more tangible.

  His lips crashed down on mine, our mouths opening and our tongues tangling, needy and desperate.

  His lips felt like velvet, smooth even as they were rough and demanding. And, with his every touch, a week’s worth of panic and anxiety ebbed from my system. In its absence, every nerve ending in my body came alive, desire filling me.

  I tugge
d at the bottom of his shirt, frantic to feel more of him—all of him.

  He broke the kiss long enough to snatch it over his head, mine meeting the same fate less than a second later.

  His mouth once again covered mine, and he yanked my bra down, both of my breasts popping free of the cups. His dexterous fingers immediately found my nipples, plucking and rolling, sending sparks to my clit.

  “Yes,” I breathed, falling back on the sink until my shoulders hit the cold mirror.

  Using my legs to force him forward, I rolled my hips against his, finding glorious friction against his hard length hidden behind his zipper.

  “Fuck,” he ground out, releasing my breasts and moving his hands down to my core. His fingers dipped into my yoga pants, swept my panties to the side, and then pressed in deep.

  My back arched and my ass slipped off the vanity, but Porter held me in place with an arm hooked under my hips.

  “Keep going,” he encouraged in a jagged voice as I began working myself against his hand. His thumb dropped to my clit, drawing slow circles as his fingers curled inside me. “Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me,” he urged before hunching over to suck my nipple into his mouth.

  The combination was too much, beautiful and agonizing at the same time. My nerve endings became overloaded with sensations to the point I couldn’t focus anymore, but Porter never slowed.

  His fingers twisted.

  His tongue swirled.

  His thumb circled.

  “Porter,” I cried, my release tearing through me.

  His head popped up, sealing over my mouth as he swallowed my moans until I sagged in his arms.

  And then…he was gone.

  My pants were ripped down my legs, and the sound of his zipper played the harmony to my labored breathing.

  And then…he was everywhere.

  His mouth came back to mine, his hand guided his thick shaft to my entrance, and his strong body surged forward as he drove inside me.

  I clung to his shoulders as he dragged me to the edge of the counter, the lip of it biting into my ass as his hips began a relentless rhythm that lit the fuse on yet another orgasm.

  “Oh God,” I moaned as he planted himself at the hilt.

  “Shh,” he ordered, pressing up onto his toes to change the angle, as if he could possibly get deeper. “You have to be quiet.”