Chapter 12 - Porter
I t’s been four days since Charlie helped me out by serving drinks behind the bar when my usual bar girl, Mel, called in sick.
Being able to accidentally rub against her was heaven. No matter how small the reason, as long as I could justify it. To feel her in some way throughout the evening, was a cruel type of punishment, leaving my cock hard and heavy.
The amount of times I almost yelled out for everyone to fuck off and leave so I could take her over and over until I was fully satisfied. I tortured myself that entire evening until I couldn't resist her any longer and when I eased my body in behind her everything faded away and it was just the two of us. It wasn’t until she was panting in my arms and I was licking my fingers, savouring her taste that the sense of dread came over me.
After everything I said, I watched her walk to the front door and look back over her shoulder at me. The sad smile of acceptance across her face.
I've pushed her away.
This is a punishment of my own doing.
This is my penance.
I took a bottle from the liquor shelf that night and climbed the stairs to my apartment, ready to face my demons as the darkness crept in.
Over the years I started to welcome the pain it brought me but since Charlie, it only serves as a warning that everything I choose to love, dies.
The reminder of a lone woman hanging from the rafters of the apartment I had purchased for us to move into. The soft dripping of blood hitting the floor as it fell from where her wrists had been cut.
It’s a scar in my memory that I will never forget, and I need to use the pain it gives me to remind myself why it’s better for both of us that nothing ever starts between Charlie and I.
Taking a breath to collect my thoughts I walk the length of the bar, spotting Charlie sitting at the end in her usual spot. She looks different tonight. Her hair is down in tousled waves and she has a little makeup on, gloss accentuating her full lips. Tight black jeans hug her thick thighs, with a low cut top and fuck me boots ending just over her knees.
She’s never not been beautiful to me. It doesn’t matter if she's just finished work, hair all messy with the tiredness of the day creeping in; or dressed up for a wedding, her pussy dripping as she confidently walks away from me, my cum running down her thighs and her head held high. So whatever it is that she’s doing here tonight, I already know I'm not going to like it.
“Don't say a thing,” she sasses, already telling me off for the scowl I can feel is etched on my face. Circling the bar I waste no time in caging her in, her body leaning back as she sits comfortably in front of me. Her legs spread so I can stand between them, my arms on either side of her, leaning closer until I'm wrapped in her calming vanilla and jasmine scent. The tension in my shoulders loosens as I take a deep breath trying to focus on what she’s about to tell me.
“Do you know how many women are attacked, abused, taken advantage of and raped every year while dating?” She blurts out quickly. Tilting my head at her I try to maintain a sense of calm, my knuckles turning white as I dig my fingers into the bar.
“Did something happen? Give me their name?” I growl. It’s not even a question of if I will hurt them, it's more one of how painfully I can eradicate them.
My old knives are oiled and freshly sharpened. Despite not needing them for any real purpose these days I still find it therapeutic to maintain them.
“Porter,” she sighs, “It’s not like that, nothing like that has happened to me. I’m just saying that it does happen and I try to be as smart about it as I can when meeting someone new.”
“What do you mean, meeting someone new? ” I spit the words out knowing that I haven’t pursued her romantically since she arrived six weeks ago. Even though she consumes almost all of my thoughts and I have told her over and over we can only be friends. I’m still taken aback at this raging pit of destruction that’s opened up inside me.
She's not mine.
I told her to see other people.
She’s not mine , so I don't get to have a say in anything she does, but I can feel my chest tighten at the thought of her meeting someone that's not me.
“I have a date. Well, I don't even know if I'd call it a date but I'm meeting someone,” she whispers hurriedly.
She’s not quite able to bring her eyes to meet mine, but she does bring both her palms up to my chest. Gently resting them on top of where my heart is beating erratically.
Can she feel it beneath her fingers?
“I went on one of those apps and started talking to a guy, he suggested going out for a drink so I said we should come here. I feel safe here Porter. If anything was to go south. I know that you … I know that I'm safe here. I’ve had friends who have had bad things happen with online dating and I'm just trying to do what I can to stay safe.”
She looks so vulnerable at this moment and I think what I find surprising is that she’s not asking for anything outlandish. Simply a safe environment to meet a stranger. One where she’s not looking over her shoulder or worried if her drink has been spiked.
Trying to put aside my feelings for her and the situation I've created, she meets my gaze. I know I’m about to blur the line between us but I’m just a simple man standing before a goddess and my defences are falling.
My lips graze hers slightly as I lean in, dragging them along her cheek, I whisper in her ear, “You're always safe with me, Charlie. If anyone ever does anything to hurt you, their soul will meet the dawn, lost and frightened. Unable to cross over into their next life as they wrestle to see the path toward the Ferryman. They will never cross the river to the underworld because they won't be able to find all of the pieces I tear from their body. They will never be whole again once I seek my vengeance.”
Dragging my hand across her shoulder, I hold her jaw firmly, her breath deepening, forcing her to look at me. “They will beg me to kill them as I take slice after slice of their skin. Letting the wound clot just eno—”
“Charlotte? Is everything okay? I’ve been waiting.”
A snippy voice says beside me. I lift my gaze to look at the man who interrupted me, who interrupted us .
My blood thumps so loudly that I struggle to focus. A short slim man stands before me. His brow furrowed somewhere between fear and worry.
Standing to my full height, I step slightly in front of Charlie, noticing a pretty red blush creeping up her neck as she takes a moment to collect herself. I can't help but feel some satisfaction at the suggestive position he found us in.
“Who the fuck are you?” I snap.
Towering over the small man, he whimpers, “Cliff.” I move to grab his shirt but a hand slides around my waist from behind. Her soft body presses against me in a quick hug before she steps around me, directing her attention to Cliff .
Holding her hand out to shake his, I can't help the growl that rumbles through my chest. Looking over her shoulder at me, she gives a small smile before walking away and gesturing for Cliff to sit at one of the centre tables and not a booth. My girl has smarts and I don’t know if it's for her or Cliff’s safety that she sits on the opposite side of the table to him. A chair’s distance separating them as I head over, ready to take their order.