Just A Woman (The Porter Trilogy Book 2) Read Free

the world through a red hue of violence and I reveled in knowing maybe the world wasn’t as fucked up as I had originally thought. Charlotte made me feel these things and I wasn’t going to stop until I got her back.
    I picked up my phone and called her again. I knew it was pointless, but I had to try as often as I could. Maybe if she could see that I wasn’t giving up, she would come around, but I knew in my heart that, next to her soft nature, her stubbornness was her greatest strength. She wasn’t one to take shit from anyone and I was incredibly proud of her.
    As predicted, her phone went to voicemail. I should have just hung up, but I couldn’t stop myself from listening to her voice. “ Hi, You’ve reached Charlie! Sorry I didn’t answer, but you know what to do! Talk to you soon! Bye.”
    “Charlotte…..please.” I hung up. I couldn’t apologize again. I’d done it so many times. Her voice always sent a jitter through my veins, distracting me from leaving a coherent voicemail message. The chemistry between us was electric and primal. Within yards of each other I could feel her, even if I wasn’t facing her. Her soul knew my soul and it was as powerful as it was unrelenting. I felt lost in this moment of time.  I needed her more than I needed my next breath.
    A ring startled me from my self-pity party. The intercom. I pressed the button and waited. I never said anything. I hadn’t when Charlotte was my PA either.
    “Your coffee?” She muttered.
    I grunted and pressed the end button. I watched as she stepped in with my coffee in her hands. The first time she had gotten me coffee, I made Bracks drink some first. Poison was a woman's murder weapon and I wasn’t gullible or naive enough to think Robert no longer had his claws in her. I still didn’t trust her, but I knew that Bracks kept an eye out for sneaky behavior, and since the initial outrage in my office, Brigitte had transcended into a feeble mouse, incapable of harm.
    I beckoned her forward, watching her knees tremble in her expensively high stilettos. She sat the drink down on my desk without a word and waited for me to acknowledge her. I looked up into her gray eyes that were forcing back tears and thought about Charlotte. She’d be so pissed at me right now for treating this girl like shit, but I couldn’t help it after what she had done. I couldn’t help the hate that reverberated around inside of me.
    Then again, look at what you did, my subconscious sneered at me. I winced at the harsh words echoing around in my brain. God, I had hurt her so badly. When she told me the story about what had happened to her eight years ago, my insides tightened to an unbearable pressure and my knuckles cracked at the rough treatment of my fists. I’d heard a version of that story already, except I had heard it from the attacker himself, and it hadn’t been so gruesome coming from his mouth. 
    Robert had been my roommate for a short stint in college. I hated him so much. He was cocky and sure of himself, a pompous jackass, and everyone loved the ground he walked upon. His dad, at the time, had been a Junior Senator and Robert was his pride and joy. Steve Nelson doted on his son and gave him everything he could ever want, including paying his way into one of the top schools in Southern California. Robert may have had money, but he was as dumb as a box of rocks.
    I came to our room at the frat house almost daily to find a sock tied on the door, the bro code meaning ‘Don’t come in. I’m getting lucky’. Every night, it was a different girl and every night, I spent most of my time in the common room ignoring everyone around me and immersing myself in books. I never saw any of the women he had brought home; I just knew there were many.
    When Robert had come upstairs that night, I had been propped up on my bed studying for an exam the following morning. He was drunk, and probably high on something, while he bragged about drugging his naive girlfriend and