Read Just A Woman (The Porter Trilogy Book 2) Online
Authors: Shannon Youngblood
Just A Woman (The Porter Trilogy Book 2)
Just a Woman
The Porter Trilogy
Shannon Youngblood
Copyright © 2016 Shannon Youngblood
All Rights Reserved
Charlotte’s history, and Alex’s inability to speak the truth, fractured an already unstable relationship and sent Charlotte running in the opposite direction. However, a connection like theirs, one that is so palpable, cannot easily be broken. Alex is determined to right the wrongs done to Charlotte. But deep rooted scars from their respective and conjoined pasts have left both of them broken, afraid, and alone. To win her back, Alex knows he must do what he’s never done before; feel what he’s never allowed himself to feel. Yet, is it even possible for someone like Alex Porter to bring romance into his life? Is Charlotte capable to look past his lies by omission and let him back in? And once she does, can they both get around the never ending hurdles that seem to cross their path without causing their already shaky world, to crumble at their feet?
Table Of Contents
Alex,
I’m not writing you this letter to express my heartbreak over learning of your betrayal. This is only to inform you of some information that has come to light, so we can both move on with our lives.
Before your arrival this evening, Robert told me how he has stayed under the radar of the law and completed his tasks. It was Brigitte. She took the photos, she slashed my tires, and she gave me the drugs, but she was manipulated. I know Robert and the way his mind works. She may have carried out the deed, but it wasn’t truly her. Please go easy on her. She’s not truly at fault.
If Robert ran off with your money because of me, I will pay you back. It will take me some time, but I will pay back every penny. Thank you for coming to my aid.
It goes without saying that I will no longer be working for Porter Industries. Please keep my final check as the first installment of payment.
Please don’t contact me again. My heart can’t handle it.
– Charlotte
Alex
Thirteen days. Thirteen fucking days since she was kidnapped, tied up, and made to suffer the worst kind of torture. Betrayal. My betrayal. For thirteen days, I ignored her letter and called her a hundred times, left as many voicemails, and texted until I felt like my fingers would fall off, and for thirteen days, I got nothing back. Not a scrap of news. I even went to her apartment and was greeted by her best friend Danny and his boyfriend Jerry, who was also my employee, and was told to stay the fuck away.
But I couldn’t stay away. That girl had found a small, miniscule hole in my hard, darkened heart and burrowed in, lodging herself deep inside, and no amount of mining was going to tear her out. I couldn’t think about anything else. I had a hard time eating. Everything I put in my mouth tasted like nothing, like my taste buds were taking a vacation from my mouth. The nightmares of my past came back every time I closed my eyes, forcing me to relive every horrid detail of my fucked up life. I spent more time in my home gym, trying to outrun my nocturnal terror, than I did in my bed.
My dreams ranged from my teenage life to the current situation. I had reoccurring thoughts about that night thirteen days ago, when Charlotte walked out of that door and out of my life. I wanted to howl to the sky with my anger and lash out at anyone stupid enough to come within arm’s reach of me. Bracks, my right hand man, my bodyguard, and my driver, was the only person I could tolerate. Unfortunately, with owning my company and a small slice of the conglomerate technology pie, being alone wasn’t a luxury I would receive. I had to continue with meetings and business calls as if my personal life wasn’t swirling through the damn toilet.
I stood up from my desk and walked into the bathroom I had constructed in the corner of my office. This place was my sanctuary away from my penthouse home in downtown Los Angeles. Every facet of my office described me in a way no one but Charlotte has ever been able to understand. Not even my savior, Rachel Mansfield. My office was clean and homey. A mahogany wood desk, floor to ceiling windows, a large white leather couch, and sporadic paintings decorated the interior. A flash of memory clouded my brain as I thought about the first time Charlotte had been in my domain.
She had been nervous, and rightfully so. I was being a dick and I knew it. Looking back now, I don’t even know why she agreed to work for me. Her eyes scanned the open floor plan, hovering on each photograph before moving on to the next. Her lips even turned up into a slight grin when she saw my bowl of fruit photo. I noticed everything about her, right from the moment I saw her step into my lobby downstairs, and when she walked into my office, her neck craning to look out my windows and the view of LA below, my cock had gotten hard underneath my zipper.
I never lost control of my body, so the reaction to my unwanted growing erection flared my temper and I was a total asshole to her, calling her an arrogant child. I watched as that beautiful mouth quivered for just a moment before she stood up, gathered up her dignity and courage, and marched to the door, apologizing for ruining the interview. I had felt instant regret over my behavior, and offered her the job, even though she was highly over qualified.
Remembering the shock on her face brought a smile to my own lips. She had been decidedly stunned. When she walked out, her tight redheaded bun disappeared behind the glass door; I flew out of my seat and rushed to her. I needed to see this girl one last time before she became my employee. This was all new to me. I was always in complete control of my actions and emotions. I opened the door and watched her get onto the elevator and close the doors. She never even looked up. Since when did I act impulsively? I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t something that normally happened.
Shaking away the memories of the day I met the woman, who captured my heart, I looked up into the bathroom mirror at my reflection. The mirror taunted me. I looked every bit of the business man I was. My charcoal gray suit was crisp, clean, and immaculately pressed. My white shirt underneath starchy, with no wrinkles, and my emerald tie and gold tie clip winked at me. This was one of two ties I wore these days. This emerald one matched Charlotte’s eyes, serving as a daily reminder of what I had let slip through my fingers. My other tie was red with white polka dots. It was Charlotte’s favorite. All of the other ties in my collection couldn’t compare, and most times when I looked at them, no matter the actual color, they just looked dull. But not these two, these were now my favorites.
Even though I looked the part of CEO, my eyes gave me away. They looked lost, and empty; dark pools of yellow mud, all life snuffed out. I had bags around my eyes, proving my lack of sleep, and I was pretty sure I had more gray strands in my hair presently than I did just two weeks ago. I looked like a mess and it made me angry. I prided myself on being a cool and collected boss, never letting emotions rule me in my board room, but I’d never been in love, and I didn’t know the havoc it could cause. And havoc it surely did.
I splashed some cold water on my face and grabbed one of the fluffy emerald towels I had stocked in the bathroom from the towel warmer nearby and dried my face. I needed to talk to Bracks and see if there had been any development on Charlotte. I was keeping tabs and was receiving daily reports of her wellbeing. I had received nothing worth its weight up to this point, but it was the only thing that kept me sane enough to function on a day to day basis.
Heading back to my desk, I grabbed my cell and plopped into my chair, dialing Bracks. In one ring he picked up.
“Boss?”
He answered.
“Bracks, I need you upstairs.”
I told him, my tone clipped and formal.
“
Yes, sir.”
He said, disconnecting the call.
Bracks was the only person I trusted with my life. There were no frilly emotions back and forth between us in our conversations. I was his employer and he, my employee, but we had each other’s back like we were brothers. He was the closest thing I had to one. I treasured him, even if I never told him. He knew, though.
Moments later, the intercom buzzed. A voice I despised told me Bracks had arrived. I punched the phone button, “Let him in,” and disconnected the intercom. Short, and to the point. That was me, Alex Porter.
Bracks walked in dressed all in black, as was his nature, and flipped his sunglasses up on top of his head. I motioned for him to take a seat opposite my desk. Most people were frightened of him. He gave off a dangerous vibe, and I knew first-hand what his two hands could do if the need arose.
The night of the kidnapping came swarming into my vision. Bracks stood inside the shattered door pointing the gun at Robert. He never took his eyes off of his target as Charlotte screamed at me for betraying her, her voice wrapping around my heart like a vice grip, squeezing my beating organ with every word. The memory made me involuntarily wince. Her walking out had stunned everyone. Robert stood there in all of his psychotic glory, knife waving around, screaming at her to come back. Everything after that happened in slow motion, but I remember it all. Every minute detail was burned into my brain; the sickening color of the tobacco stained walls, the craze and lust flashing behind Roberts black gaze as he realized he was outnumbered, and the silent vibration of my heart splintering underneath my rib cage.
A full minute after Charlotte had walked out the door, Robert snapped. I had told Bracks prior to coming that he was not to shoot unless absolutely necessary to save Charlotte’s life, but now that she was not in the room, I was ready to draw blood myself over what he had done to her. I took a step in his direction while he looked down at the bag of money by his feet.
A moment later, leaving the discarded cash on the floor, Robert launched himself to the window and crashed through as a sickening shot echoed around the cigarette stenched room. I ran to the window to see if Bracks had hit him, but like a ghost, Charlotte’s crazy ex had vanished. Both Bracks and I shuffled outside, weapons drawn and ready to attack, but we found nothing but a few drops of blood outside the window amongst the shattered glass.
After a thorough search of the grounds, we gathered the large duffle of money and Bracks called a cab. It seemed Charlotte had been both resourceful and angry enough to steal the mode of transportation that had come to rescue her. I couldn’t fault her for it. She was in a new city, she was angry and scared, and she chose her flight instinct, no matter the cost. When we had made it back to the hotel, the first thing I did was phone her mother to find out if she had driven there, but before I could make the call, Bracks had found a transaction at the airport for a flight back to Los Angeles, in Charlotte’s name. We didn’t waste any time in following.
Bracks coughed, dragging me back to the here and now, waiting to see why I had summoned him to my office. I dragged a hand through my hair and willed myself to focus on right now, not two weeks ago. I looked up at Bracks, his expression softening subtly. He knew I was in agony but, thankfully, never brought it up.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked. I didn’t need to elaborate. I had asked him the same question every day for nearly two weeks.
“Not yet, boss. I have people hacking and monitoring the entire internet, just waiting for her to send an email, buy something off of a website, or post a status on social media.”
I nodded my head in thanks at him. I needed some sort of connection with her, even if it was anxiously awaiting a tweet from my fiery haired, daydreaming Charlotte. I felt desperate with want and need for her and nothing I could do would put out the urge to run to her and hold her in my arms while I apologized through grunts of sexual pleasure.