Chapter 22 - Porter
I t's the faint sound of someone squealing that gets my attention. I'm just buckling my belt when it echoes off the walls. The unusual sound makes me tilt my head in confusion.
Someone squealed.
Like a kid being given a bucket of candy.
Charlie doesn't squeal. Unless I'm forcing orgasms from her but I've never heard her squeal in joy about anything.
Someone squealed and I don't like it.
Charlie .
Not bothering to put a sweater on, I take the eight-inch knife from under my pillow, nicking my finger on the reverse serrations along the spine.
I'm a sucker for a dual purpose weapon, which is one of the reasons I like to sleep with this knife. The way it slides into a person so perfectly they would almost miss that it was there. It causes minimal bleeding when inserted, and the blade is so sharp it feels like a small pinch going in. What makes it my favourite though, is when you pull it out. Even the smallest amount of upward pressure causes the serrated spine to tear and claw at the once smooth flesh. It's like a saw as it hacks at the skin over and over with each tug of the handle.
Hurdling down the stairs from my apartment, I slam open the door to the bar and see the arms of a man wrapped around Charlie. Her long hair covers his face as he holds the back of her head in a tight embrace.
Without thinking I stalk toward them, my teeth bared to the man, a low growl coming from my mouth. A faint glint from the man's eyes are visible through the gaps in her hair as he watches me come closer towards them. I can hear Charlie talking muffled words as he holds her tight. It's only as I get closer I’m able to take stock of him sitting on a bar stool, pressing himself against what's mine. Wool coat, black brogue dress shoes with a mirror shine and the gold ring on his pinky finger from when we played gangsters as kids.
Pressing my knife against his neck, just under his jaw bone I take a deep breath as I feel the cold metal of his gun against my side. I expect nothing less from him, almost proud of the man he had to become.
“You shouldn't be here,” I say to him. To my past. “You were never meant to find me.”
Charlie tries to pull her head away but he holds onto her.
Bastard.
“Don't move, sweetness,” he whispers, “My brother has a knife to my throat and I don't want you getting hurt.”
Gasping, she tries to push away from him again, no doubt picking up on the word brother . I’m forced to pull my knife from his jaw because even though we’re in the middle of a fucked up family reunion, I don’t want to accidentally hurt her. Yanking her back to me, I try to pull her as far away from him as I can.
“What the fuck is going on,” she yells, her eyes darting between the two of us, taking another step away, she comprehends what’s happening.
“Dimitriy,” I growl at the man sitting in front of me. One who should have stayed in my past.
My little brother.
“Ya skuchal po tebe, starshiy brat [5] ,” he says, as a wave of sadness comes over me for everything we lost. We were once inseparable, and now we’re both shells of the men we were. I don't know if it's possible to condense everything I felt over these past years.
I missed him too.
Every day.
Lila wasn't the only person I lost when she died. My whole world crumbled and my little brother was a casualty of it.
“What's going on? Dimi? Porter? Someone tell me what the fuck is happening and PUT YOUR GODS DAMN WEAPONS ON THE GROUND!” Charlie yells.
“Yesli ty prichinish' yey bol', ya ub'yu tebya [6] ,” I say back to him.
“Nikogda [7] .”
He spits the word at me like I offended him with my threat.
“AND CAN YOU SPEAK GODS DAMN ENGLISH SO I CAN UNDERSTAND YOU. It feels like you're talking about me and I hate it.”
“She's not a pawn in some game Dimitriy. If you hurt her—”
“I wouldn't have asked her to marry me if she was a pawn, brother . A lot has changed since we last talked. Our world is not like you remember it. Dad died, there is a war coming.”
For a moment I see the weight of the world on top of his shoulders, the small dip in them giving away his true feelings.
“You asked her to marry you?” I growl.
A fire raging inside me at the thought of losing her.
A small gasp comes from Charlie, “Wait, your dad died? Dimi I’m sorry. I know there was tension but he was still your dad.”
She tries to pull away from me to go to him but I’m not convinced of anything right now and I can’t, with absolute certainty, rule out that he’s not here for something else.
“Of course, that's your takeaway from what I said. Dad died, Pasha. I'm in charge now and I've been making a few changes. I won't live like him. The choices he made, what happene—”
“I have no father. WE NEVER HAD A FATHER!” I shout, frustrated that he's suddenly bringing him up.
After all these years the last thing I want to do is think about that man. He was a tyrant, a dictator. A man-child playing games with real people.
“Did he suffer? Did he get the death he deserved at least,” I can't help but ask, wondering if someone else was able to do the one thing I chose not to.
“He drowned in a bowl of soup. He was extremely paranoid after ... after what you did. He’d sent the staff home for the night. They think he had a stroke and drowned in the soup he was having for dinner.”
“Good. A pathetic death for a pathetic man.”
“We need to talk about what happened, there's a rumour going around that you missed one Pasha. That he's been tracking you down—”
“Are you two engaged?” I spit out.
“Stop cutting me off this is importa—”
“Are you two engaged!” I snap, ignoring everything he was trying to say.
That man was nothing but a poor excuse for everything a father should have been. I wasted enough of my life seeking his acceptance so I'm not giving him a second more than I need to.
What matters now is whether or not my brother is going to survive these next few minutes. I have no doubt he's learnt a few tricks since we last sparred but this fury I'm feeling. This rage. I won't be able to hold it back if another thing of mine has been taken from me.
“Porter?” A small warm hand touches my forearm and like a lighthouse in a storm, my anger fades, my world calms and all I can see is her.
Charlie.
“Can I explain?” she says calmly to me, glancing over at Dimitriy for a moment and frowning at him.
Leaning down, I pick her up from her thighs. Her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her away from my brother to the end of the bar. To the unassuming spot we made that is just ours. Placing her on the bar top, I don't move from her.
I can't.
I need her touching me, centering my existence.
Reaching up I gently touch her throat, pressing my fingers in sightly until I feel the life force pulsing through her.
She's real.
She's mine.
“Tell me.”
My voice so low only the two of us can hear it. Snuggling into her neck I keep one eye on my brother through the mirror behind the bar as she tells me of how her and Dimitriy became friends, their kiss and reassures me that it will never be more than a brother, sister type relationship.
“His life. Your life. That world doesn't scare me, Porter,” she says, holding on to me. “It didn't scare me then and it doesn't scare me now, even though you've not said anything to me about it. I know something happened. Something life changing for you. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Someday, I hope you trust me enough to let me in and know that it won't change how I think of you. That I’ll still want you.”
She's so sincere in her words that I can't quite believe I’ve been granted this second chance. That I would meet someone who would be so patient with me.
“Thank you, for telling me everything. The person I was back then has gone. I died along with ... when she ... I'm not that person anymore. I'm Porter, a small town bar owner. That's who I want you to see when you look at me, that's who I am now.”
“Okay.”
“ Okay?”
“We're only at the start, Porter. We have as much time as we want to be together so if I have to wait, that's okay. I’ve had things happen in my life too and if you were suddenly demanding things of me I wouldn't like it. I don't want to push you away in trying to get close to you.”
Holy fuck.
How is this even a reality for me right now? This woman is everything. Understanding, kind, respectful. I can't help but lean into her, press my face to her neck and feel her warmth invade me.
Centre me.
“I'm still trying to figure things out in my head. I never thought I'd be in this position again, but I lost someone and it broke me. I don't know if I'm on the other side of that yet,” I say, looking at her.
I don’t know if I will crumble or detach from her in trying to give her something to hold on to. I'm the strong guy, the impenetrable guy, so even letting this small amount of my past out … to say it out loud is borderline too much for me.
Gently pushing me away, her hands find my face and she tenderly strokes her fingers across my cheeks, eyes and over my head. The calming sensation working its way down my whole body.
“I like you Porter, I like your company, I like how protective you are of me. I like how we just seem to fit together, how easy it is despite everything else,” she says, lightly kissing across my face and along my ear. “And I like your cock,” she whispers.
Rearing my head back, her face is radiating, the overhead light shining in such a way she practically glows. I can't help but grin. Yet again, I'm allowed to continue my existence with this woman.
“Careful, baby. I might have to take you right here on the bar and show my little brother how a real man satisfies a woman.”
“Satisfies huh, you might have to work on that later tonight then,” she says, a beautiful smile on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows at me. Lightening the mood but not ignoring it.
Gods, I could love this woman.
Shaking my head at the thought. I don't know if I can let myself get there with someone again. If I can let someone in enough, knowing what it feels like when everything can go wrong.
“I'll take you so hard later you'll struggle to walk tomorrow, but for now I think I owe my brother a little welcome gift.”
Kissing her lips quickly, I cup her cheek for a moment and take in the way she's looking at me. I don't think anyone, not even Lila looked at me like she does. Everything about her says it's going to be alright and I just have to let it.
Maybe tomorrow, I'll have the courage to do it.
Walking over to Dimitriy, he tilts back his head taking the almost third of a glass full of liquor into his mouth and swallows. I've forgotten how similar in height we are. Gone is my little brother, my best friend, replaced by this hardened man in front of me. One I knowingly let take my place the day I became a ghost. The day I became Porter Anderson.
“It wasn't easy to find you, you know. I never gave up that you were alive. I didn't believe the stories about how you died. I searched and searched but I never got anywhere. Every time I thought I had you, it was just another dead end.
It was only because Charlie all but confirmed you were Vdovets when we were talking that I knew it was you. She's not bothered by our world and as much as I tried to convince her to join me at the top, she doesn't want it. Love her starshiy brat, [8] and let her love you back. It's okay for you to move on.”
“Don’t ... just don’t. It's not that easy.” I grit out.
The weight of my past creeps in again, threatening to take over and reveal itself. The notion that my little kid brother knows my woman better than I do, for him to understand her enough to talk about her like that.
I'm livid.
That should be me enjoying her smiles and laughter. I hate that he said that to me, but I appreciate that he did, at the same time. It's reassuring to know that for the time he's known her, she has at least been safe.
I've kept up with what's been happening in my old life and I know that as soon as my father disappeared from public view Dimitriy took no prisoners. Sure, everyone was told he was second in command but I knew better. My brother always had a flair for the dramatic, so I paid attention when bodies started turning up tortured by unusual methods.
Boiling tar, drawn and quartered, even old fashioned burning at the stake. The news reported it as a modern day witch trial when bodies started appearing all over the city burned to a crisp, but I knew it was him. He tried to prove to our father over and over that he wasn't a weak man, a weak son. So while I enjoyed the hunt, my baby brother enjoyed the kill.
Without thought, I rear back my arm, closing my fist and punch him square in the face. The feeling of his nose crunching giving me a little satisfaction. Charlie calls out from behind me, yelling to show her where the first aid kit was. The whole reason we were down here before opening time.
He knew why I did it.
And as I drew back my arm once more he just stood there, grinning at me, blood spread across his mouth, waiting for my next blow.
“That was for kissing my woman, and this is for asking her to marry you,” I say, crashing my fist back into his face.