Page 8 of In the Grey of Dawn

“Yeah, he was keen to help make your arrival a good one and seeing we weren’t here to welcome you yesterday he thought some easy home-cooked meals would go down a treat. I think he’s trying to impress you. You know, since everything that happened at the wedding.”

She laughs and wiggles her eyebrows at me. Not that it was this big secret, everyone in the house basically heard usfucking that night. I can’t help but blush at the thought of this big manly man making sure I had a warm meal to eat for when I arrived.

“I won't stay long because I'm meeting Ace soon. I could try and be sly about it but we both know I'm not going to do that, so I think you should get the girls out when you go see him,” she says pointing to my chest. Lowering her already soft voice, she sounds like a seductress when she says, “Go thank the man for his hospitality,” as she pushes her breasts up, making kissing sounds at me like I’m a teenager meeting my first boyfriend after class.

Rolling my eyes and laughing at her, I give her a final hug good night and we make plans to catch up soon as I mull over what just happened.

Porter left me meals.

Porter, who gave me the best sex of my life, wanted to look after me. The idea of him wanting to do that for me causes that little ember of hope to turn into a spark, knowing there might be something here for me after all.

Chapter 4 - Porter

Why can’t I ever get any good gods damn help in this town? Another girl fucking quit because she wants to chase her dreams and make it in the big city.

What a fucking joke.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her unless you got a rich daddy or know people who can pull the right strings, the furthest she’d go on talent alone is a show tunes bar or performing topless at some club.

It’s been four days since Charlie arrived in Hidden Valley and I haven't seen her once. My irritability is beginning to creep through my carefully sculpted facade. I gave Nova four meals for her to eat and I’d hoped by now that she would have come in for more or at least to say thank you. A small part of me hoped that maybe she would come in because she just wanted to see me. I don’t even know if Nova told her the meals were from me. Those women do not stop talking when they are together so surely she would have said something.

I’ll never admit it, but it’s my own fault for not asking any further questions. I froze at the notion of her moving to town. Nova was pretty vague about it, only saying that she was coming to help out for a while.

What does that even mean?

Coming to help out for a while.

It’s not as if she’s a carpenter who can help Dante build his and Mila’s house. I haven’t heard of any staff shortages at the medical centre, but then again I don’t exactly hang out there either. I’ve learnt many tricks over the years and can quite easily patch myself up when required. But that’s not something I’ve had to do in a while. A hint of my old life peeking through as I clean the beer glasses behind the bar, my knuckles showing the silver shine of healed scars.

I never would have thought my life would look like this, that it evencouldlook like this. I’m a bar owner in a small town and more often than not I can convince myself that this is all I’ve ever known. My only regret so far in starting over is that I wasn’t creative enough to name my bar anything other than after myself. Not Bruski’s, or Guzzlers, even though Guzzlers sounds more like a strip club. I called it Porters after the first P name I found at an old cemetery I took a break in when driving here. It was the name I chose for myself and one that’s served me well. A name that is welcoming but also has a hint of mystery about it, at least I like to think so.

I was raised to be violent. I watched my father kill a man at seven years old and it was at that moment I knew I was destined for more. The way I stood mesmerised as the blood sprayed out while my father slit the man's throat. A few drops sprinkled on my face, the warmth of it noticeable against my cold skin. The gurgles he made as he tried to breathe, willing his body to work as he needed it to. The sheer look of terror he had as he clawed at himself, trying to undo the damage that had already been done by my father’s hand.

My brother was standing at my side as we watched the man crumble to the ground, taking my hand and holding ittightly. The small gesture of togetherness my father witnessed, deciding our fates.

The next time I was called to his workshop, my brother was not with me. I was alone in a room full of men while they tore apart someone who had wronged us, who had wronged the family. Slowly all of the wrongdoers blurred into one and no amount of screaming or torture could separate them.

My life turned hollow.

Empty.

That was until I saw her. Alone and sitting at a park bench in the middle of a brisk autumn day. She was like a siren calling me. Her face tilted to the midday sun, a small smile on it as she drank in its warmth. It was as if at that moment she knew I was entranced. Knew that I was watching her. As her eyes opened and she looked in my direction, we simply stared at each other. The faint chill in the air doing nothing to distract me from watching.

Even though it’s been just over six and a half years and I can no longer remember her laugh, or the way her body felt when I held her. I can still see that small smile she made when she was sitting alone on that park bench, waiting for me to find her.

It’s because of her that I should know better than to even think of getting involved with Charlie. Despite everything that happened all those years ago, a part of me still craves that kind of soul shattering love. To have just one person I can be myself with, to find peace with.

I just don’t know if I can survive it again.

Because ultimately, what happened that night ...was my fault. The blood that was spilled that day and afterwards was simply because I couldn’t give her up.

Charlie can only be an acquaintance, a friend. Someone I chat to occasionally when she swings by for a drink at my bar after a long day ofhelping.

Whatever or whoever she’s coming to fucking help can share her at least a little bit. Not that it makes a difference because I’m not interested in starting anything but it would be nice to see her. Have a catch up with a friend and see how she’s settling in, maybe sit her on the bar while I eat her pussy and hear her scream my name.

I’m fucked.

Absolutely fucked.

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