Page 62 of In the Grey of Dawn

The sun slowly illuminates the sky.

The world is still while my heart breaks.

Nodding his head at me, he reaches out holding onto my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaving me alone in the kitchen.

Alone with my thoughts.

Alone.

???

The morning is slow. Dimi should be arriving soon. He said he would meet me at Ace's house within the hour. Mila’s having a morning nap, her hyperemesis seems to get better each day. It's a small victory that she's only sick maybe five times a day now. The vibration of my phone no longer elicits the hopes I had of it being Porter. Which is why when the notification showed his name I felt thewhat theexpression cross my face.

Porter messaged me?

♥Ports♥

Hey, baby girl. I’m sorry.

I’m a bit tied up but please come

to the bar and I'll make it right.

Weird? It doesn't even sound like him but this is what I’ve been waiting for right? He's ready to talk so either way I get the closure I'm after. My time in Hidden Valley is coming to an end and we can officially call it quits on our relationship. I'll finish the last ten weeks of Mila's pregnancy before I return to the city and back to normality. Porter can just be a guy I met at a friend's wedding.

Me

I’ll be there soon, just coming from Ace’s

Quickly, I forward Porter's message to Dimi, letting him know what he sent and where I've gone. I scribble a note for Mila and head out, prepared to lose the only man I've ever wanted to love.

Chapter 38 - Porter

Phantom Liberty - Dawid Podsiadlo, P.T. Adamczyk ?

The thumping of my blood rouses me. Each beat of my heart is like a fresh nail being hammered into my body, slowly tearing it apart second by second. I don't know how long it's been. Hours, minutes, days, that I've been passed out for, chunks of time lost to the ether. I no longer know if the sun has set or risen because when I open my eyes it's either light or dark, that is my only method of time.

I wish I had a photo of Charlie to stare at.

Charlie.

Thank the gods she's not shown up at the bar, or Mel, or any of the other staff really.

How come no one has come?

Surely it's raised suspicion with someone. A regular maybe, hell, I'll even take one of those preppy tourist wankers at this stage. Just someone to walk in and raise the alarm.

Am I so awful that no one has come for me?

I'm tied to a chair in the middle of the room, my head hanging low against my chest. The dance floor has never had this much blood on it before, or for this long so I know it will stain.

I guess that's someone else's problem now.

Cracking one eye open as best as I'm able, the crusted blood caked over my face cracking with the strain of it. I can no longer feel sensation in my left leg. I'm not sure if the shotgun pellets through my femur killed it off or if it's just too damaged my body no longer registers it’s there. I only remember snippets of what's happened.

A baseball bat.

A golf club.