Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(87)

“What? That she’d be reassigned?”

“Yes,” Rebecca admitted. “Here’s the coffee shop. His apartment is upstairs.”

Aspen didn’t respond. She pulled the truck onto a side street and turned off the engine.

“How do we get up there?” she asked once they were balancing my weight on the sidewalk, just below a lone streetlamp.

“Follow me.” Rebecca pressed the button marked Travis.

A moment later, Charlie yelled through the intercom, “Yo!”

Leaning toward the box, I said weakly, “It’s Brinley. I need Porter.” I moaned. “It’s an emergency.”

“Oh,” he replied.

“Hurry!” Aspen screeched into the intercom.

Buzzz.

Rebecca held the door open and the two women carried me to the stairs. Slowly, we climbed, my knees weak, every step causing pain to shoot through my ribs.

The thunder of footsteps came rushing toward us. When I saw Porter and Charlie round the corner of the staircase, all my emotions came bubbling to the surface, and I began to cry.

“Brin?” Porter’s head jerked back. He froze, staring down at me as his mouth fell open. Charlie nudged him, snapping him back into action. He ran down the remaining steps. Rebecca moved out of the way, and he wrapped his arm around my waist. “What happened?”

Charlie supported the other side of my body and they carried me the rest of the way. I sobbed as we walked. Porter demanded again and again for me to tell him what happened, but I couldn’t speak for wailing.

“She’s still in shock,” Rebecca said. “But she’ll be okay.”

We entered the apartment and the men carried me to the couch. I lay on the couch with two pillows supporting my head and neck while Charlie scurried off to find their first aid kit.

Porter kissed my forehead, then studied my face. His face clouded as his anger built, and I knew that soon he’d explode.

“What the f*ck happened to her?” he demanded, looking at Aspen, who’d grown silent in his presence. “And who the hell are you?”

“My name is Aspen.”

“The pain-in-the-ass sister wife?”

“Porter!” I grimaced, knowing that Aspen didn’t deserve that title. Not one bit. “Stop. She saved me.”

“From what?” he asked, kneeling down beside the couch. “Who did this to you?”

“It—it’s a long story,” Aspen answered.

“I’m serious, Brin. Who the f*ck do I need to destroy? Was it Lehi? Did he do this to you?”

I nodded through my tears. Porter’s face hardened and his breathing grew ragged. He’d reached the end of his fuse.

“Rebecca,” Aspen said, her voice controlled, somber. “Clean Brinley up. I need to talk to Porter.”

“I don’t have time to talk,” Porter said, jumping to his feet. “I have to go.”

“No!” I screamed, attempting to sit up. Searing pain shot through my ribs and I fell back to the couch.

Rebecca rifled through the first aid kit that Charlie handed her, then applied antiseptic to my cuts. I winced at the pain as Porter paced.

“He has to pay for this, Brin. I’m not gonna let him get away with it!”

Aspen stood opposite Porter. “It’s taken care of.”

“The f*ck it is! I’m gonna f*ck him up so bad he’ll wish he’d never touched a hair on her f*cking head!” Porter’s chest heaved, the skin of his face and neck splotchy.

“Listen to me, please,” Aspen begged. “You can’t go back there. You’ll only make things worse.”

“I’m not afraid of that *. I’ll f*cking kill him!” Porter shot toward the door of the apartment.

“Listen to her, man,” Charlie said, jumping up from his seat and blocking the hallway that led to the door.

“Get out of the way!” Porter yelled, shoving Charlie in the chest.

“No.” Charlie softened his tone, going for calm. “If you go back there, you’ll regret it.”

“What the f*ck do you know about anything?” Porter demanded, turning his fury toward his roommate, pushing him aside and storming to the front door. He gripped the handle and ripped it open, the doorknob punching a hole into the drywall it slammed into.

“You’re making a mistake!” Charlie yelled, chasing after Porter. He grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back into the apartment.

“Porter!” I yelled, alarmed. My mind conjured up visions of Porter . . . Lehi, dead beneath Porter’s feet. Porter in handcuffs, slumped over in the back of a police car. Porter never returning to me, never being a part of my life. I’d be here, in the outside world, finally. But he wouldn’t be here with me. The thought sent daggers through my fragile heart.

“Look, man,” Charlie yelled, his grip on Porter fixed and determined. “You’ve wanted her for months—you’ve wanted her here, wanted her to be free.”

“So?” Porter looked past Charlie and met my gaze.

“So, she’s here, man. She’s what matters. Not him. Not any of them.” Charlie shook his head as Porter’s eyes remained on mine, his expression softening just a touch. But it was enough. “Just . . . calm yourself down. Focus on her, man. Focus on Brinley.”