Page 50 of In the Grey of Dawn

I never told the sheriff who I was when I moved to town and I’m not sure when he figured it out or if someone told him. I'd been here only a few months when he asked to have a frank conversation with me. He said he could see the blood from every man I ever killed on my hands the moment he first saw me. That he could spot the type a mile off but that he saw the good in me too. He's probably one of the only people who can.

I remember being so broken back then that I didn't even try to deny it, just mumbled that I wasn't here to cause trouble but if he ever needed a hand to give me a call. I thought if I tried to get on his good side by offering the only thing I truly excelled at, it would be a good idea.

Looking back now I can't help but laugh at how stupid I had been because I had no idea what kind of man the sheriff was but I needn't have worried. Small town justice turned out to be the perfect fit for me and even though he's never turned up on my doorstep with a guy I needed to get rid of in the back of his squad car, he's never gotten in the way on the two times he witnessed something like this.

“I’ll keep her safe,” I say, nodding to him with an air of confidence, all the while feeling defeated by my past with Lila, my present with Charlie and the future I don't deserve with either of them.

Chapter 30 - Charlie

“Hey, baby. Take it easy. You're safe. You’re home in bed.”

My eyelids feel like sandpaper. Why is it so bright in here?

“Porter?” I croak, the words struggling to get out.

It feels like I'm lying in mud.

Why?

“Just lie there a bit and let your body wake up. I have some water here and toast when you're ready.”

“What happened?” I ask, a heavy feeling in my chest. I don't remember coming back here or even eating dinner.

What did we eat for dinner?

This annoying guy kept trying to talk with me and I told him to go a few times and he did.

I thought he left?

But then he was back.

Did he come back?

Maybe I just need a coffee? I don't remember drinking at all so I don't understand why I feel like this. “There was a man? … I don't remember.”

Porter takes my hand and moves to sit on the side of the bed, my arm wrapped around him as he looks away from me.

“I’m so sorry Charlie. I wasn’t there in time. Your drink was spiked and you passed out. I stopped him before he could try anything but I was still too late.I'm always too late.”

His head is dipped low as he gently strokes my hand, calming both of us as I try to digest what he just said.

My drink was spiked?

“My drink was spiked!” I say jolting up and instantly regretting it. My head feels like it's being suffocated. Everything is spinning and there’s so much pressure as I bring my hands to my face, pushing the heel of my palms into my eyes, willing the moment to pass.

“I'm sorry, I didn't protect you.”

His voice is so soft, timid almost and he won't look at me. Why won't he look at me?

“Did he ... was I?” The tears formed so quickly there was no time to stop them from falling down my face. Looking down I can see I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday … and my body, my body feels okay, sluggish but okay. I don't feel any overwhelming pains or numbness. Foggy, yes, but I otherwise feelintact.

“No baby, god's no.”

He turns toward me, reaching out to gently hold my face in his hands. “Your drink was spiked but I stopped him after that. He didn't touch you, no one touched you. I carried you up to bed and I watched you all night. I promise no one touched you.”

Relief and confusion swarm around me.

I'm okay.

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