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Throne of Truth Page 11


  Tears brimmed in her blue eyes, begging me to relieve that hurt.

  I cursed her. But I couldn’t let her suffer.

  Tugging against the cop’s pressure, I said, “Go into the kitchen. Above the fridge is a safe deposit box. Combination is 0619—19thof June.”

  Elle half-gasped, half-sobbed.

  Before she could say anything, I added, “Inside, you’ll find things that will answer some of your questions, but you’ll also find my emergency details. Call Larry Barns.”

  “All right, enough chitchat.” The officer pushed me.

  My feet descended the stairs. “Tell him I need his services again. Tell him I know I fucked up but he better come.”

  Elle nodded, her hands grasping the banister as she stayed on my floor, and I slowly headed below. “Can you say it out loud? Admit what happened between us that night. Please...I need to hear that, Penn...”

  Even now, she still had a splinter of doubt puncturing her trust.

  Fuck, that hurts.

  I smiled harshly. “The fact that you have to ask is all the answer I’ll give you.” I glanced down, judging how many steps to go. How many steps before I was trapped behind barbwire and bars again.

  Tears welled in her gaze. “So you are Nameless?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve never been called Nameless. But if you’re asking who I am? How can I tell you? How can I make you see what you don’t want to see?”

  “But I do want to see. I’ve been dying to see for three years. I’ve been trying to find you, Penn. I—”

  “Stop, Elle.” I didn’t want to hear her declarations of hardship. Of the occasional half-hearted search while she lived in her crystal tower and I rotted in a cell.

  We reached the landing, ready to turn and vanish from Elle’s line of sight. I gave her all I could. I finally admitted my truth. “I can’t tell you who I am because I never told you my name. I could give you any name, and you would never know it was real because you never knew me.”

  The officers prodded me. “Get going.”

  I ignored them. “All you need to know is how I made you feel. What did you feel when I kissed you on that baseball field? How did you feel when I gave you the only food I’d had in days? How did you feel when you walked away from me and didn’t look back?”

  Her tears broke her disciplined wall, turning from sorrow to sob. “God, I felt something huge, something I’d never felt before. I fell for you when I didn’t even know what that was.” She whirled down a few steps, only for David to stop her from chasing me. “Penn, I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Her apology didn’t fade the pain I’d carried for so long.

  I sighed sadly. “Glad to know it wasn’t just one of us who fell that night.”

  The rookie shoved me forward.

  I didn’t look back.

  Just like she hadn’t three years ago.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elle

  APARTMENT HALLWAYS HAD a habit of causing damage to furniture edges and being scuffed by human traffic, but I never thought it had the power to hurt knees and palms.

  Until I slammed to all fours under the colossal weight of despair.

  “I can’t tell you who I am because I never told you my name.”

  How many words in that single sentence? How heavy the truth in that string of confession? Enough to steal the remaining energy in my limbs and throw me headfirst into faintness.

  I wasn’t a woman anymore. I was sharp breaths, swirling thoughts, and lost bearings. Falling forward as if in prayer, begging the world for a better answer delivered in a kinder way, I pleaded for a do-over.

  I’d dreamed of finding Nameless. I’d had fantasies of loving him, saving him, proving to myself that what I’d felt that night wasn’t some silly teenage fling but the start of something raw and terrible and utterly undeniable.

  But that was before he’d looked at me with pain so deep-seated, so long lived with, he couldn’t stop the flash of disgust in his eyes.

  He blamed me.

  He blamed me for not finding him, for not doing exactly what I’d promised myself I’d do and didn’t.

  Oh, God.

  I hugged my waist, ignoring the bruises from Greg and focusing on the bruises on my heart. I needed to touch him, promise him that I believed now. That I trusted now.

  But how flimsy was that?

  How awful of me to doubt and accuse, unable to see that my wishes had come true and I’d done nothing but fight against him since he came for me.

  To finally find Nameless.

  To come face-to-face with him and put aside the three years and pick up exactly where we left off—with passion and purity and no lies or worries.

  That was the stupid teenage ideal, not the night we met. The belief that years later it would still be unsullied and ready to morph into something true.

  It’s ruined.

  It’s over.

  My life had gone the exact opposite of everything I’d wanted.

  Did young-hearted idealism make him my perfect other? Or fate?

  Was he right to look at me as if I was a coward?

  Penn had stared at me, not with happiness and satisfaction at finally reuniting, but with regret and disappointment. He acted as if he couldn’t forgive me for not trusting the nudgings of my heart that his secret was one I’d wanted, not one I didn’t.

  How did I think he was Baseball Cap? How could I ever call him Adidas? Why was I so weak?

  A soft gray blanket fell over my shoulders, smelling of Penn. David crouched beside me, rubbing my back with a warm, heavy hand. Slowly, he took my weight, plucking me from the dirty carpet of the hallway and onto my feet.

  The minute I was standing, he guided me into Penn’s apartment and motioned for me to sit.

  To sit in the exact same place where Penn had sat just moments before. The place where my heart had started to unravel, already hearing Penn’s truth but somehow unable to let go of my anger and finally believe.

  He’d lied.

  He’d been an asshole and covered up any sweetness that existed inside him.

  Why?

  Why be a jerk when I would’ve leapt into his arms the moment he’d told me the truth?

  Why the make-believe?

  Why didn’t I recognize him?

  Why couldn’t I see the similarities between Penn and Nameless?

  Why couldn’t I see past the beard and dirty hoodie?

  Why couldn’t I see past the suits and wealth?

  Why?

  Why?

  Why?

  Ignoring David’s request to sit, I stood and beelined for the cupboard above Penn’s stainless steel fridge. Reaching on my tiptoes, I was able to touch but not grab the small safety deposit box.

  I can’t—

  I tried to manhandle it, but my stupid fingers couldn’t reach. I turned to spy a chair to stand on, but David reached for me and placed the metal navy box on the kitchen counter.

  I didn’t like him all that much currently. He’d prevented me from chasing after Penn. Nameless.

  All along, he’s been Nameless.

  My heart stopped skipping a beat and settled for a jangled symphony instead.

  I might not like David at the moment, but I kept my manners. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The box was heavy but not one to screw into a floor or wall. This was movable, only opened by the combination.

  The combination Penn gave me.

  The combination of the night we met.

  Was that an unnecessary stab at my romantic ideals or had he felt something so strange that night?

  You know he did.

  He admitted it.

  His voice echoed in my head with such delicious words. Words that clenched my tummy, suffocated my lungs, and restarted my heart. “Glad to know it wasn’t just one of us who fell that night.”

  And now, he’d been taken again. Locked up where I couldn’t reach him.

  Holding back more tears, I
inputted the code and spun the dial. Holding my breath, I slouched in relief as the mechanism unlocked, beckoning me to lift the lid and learn its contents.

  Cracking the top, I glanced at the treasure trove Penn had decided was valuable enough to keep safe.

  Inside was his passport, a wad of one hundred dollar bills, an envelope marked stocks and bonds, and another one with the words: ‘In an emergency.’ I opened that one, pulling out what I assumed was Larry’s phone number.

  David passed me his cell-phone before I could ask. His smile was knowing, his eyes obedient, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with what I was about to do.

  I took his phone but paused. “You knew. Didn’t you?”

  He clasped his hands in front of his belt buckle. “I had my suspicions when I recognized him outside the Blue Rabbit.”

  “Yet you didn’t say anything?”

  “It wasn’t my place.”

  “Not your place to protect me?”

  He smiled, chuckling softly. “My place is to protect your body. It was never in my contract to protect your heart.” He motioned to the phone. “You already called me a meddler like your personal assistant. I wasn’t about to risk my job by telling you who or who not to date.”

  Awkwardness fell between us. I’d spent years with David, yet we’d never had a truly frank conversation—especially about my love life.

  “Just out of curiosity.” I turned his phone on, typing in Larry’s number. “Would you have protected my heart if I’d decided to date Greg like my father and Steve wanted?” My thumb hovered over the call button, waiting for David’s answer.

  He smiled, but it tinged with rage that Greg had taken me out of his custody and hurt me. “I would’ve fired myself if you’d announced you were with him.” His lips twitched. “Respectfully, of course, Ma’am.”

  Despite everything—the lies, the police, the fact that Penn was Nameless and he’d just been carted away for the second time—I smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

  I pressed the call button as David said, “For what it’s worth, I do believe he’s a good guy. If you read between the lines, that is.”

  “I know.” I held the phone to my ear. A ring tone sounded. “I saw it that first night.”

  I just forgot to trust it and not let doubt and disbelief get in my way.

  I knew Penn was a good guy—despite his jackass ways the past few weeks.

  In his mind, I deserved that treatment.

  In my mind, I kind of agreed with him.

  “Larry speaking.”

  My questions snapped away, leaving more important things. “Larry, this is Elle Charlston. Penn’s been arrested.”

  He reacted straight away. “Ah, damn, I feared something like this would happen.”

  “Something like this?”

  “Him getting mixed up with you. It’s not exactly good for his temper.”

  I agreed Penn had a temper, but he could also control it. He’d unleashed it twice since I’d known him and both were to protect me.

  He had my back. I hadn’t had his.

  God, I had to stop tormenting myself and fix what was broken, not focus on the reason for it. “It would’ve been a lot simpler if he’d told me the truth from the beginning.”

  “I did tell him that.” Larry sighed. “Did he tell you the truth now?”

  “As the police dragged him away, yes.”

  “And?” Larry prompted.

  “And what?”

  “How do you feel?” His tone cajoled.

  “I...I don’t know.”

  Confused.

  Annoyed.

  Frightened.

  Guilty.

  “What does that mean?” He sighed again, heavier this time. “Look, when I first helped him, he kept his feelings for you a secret. He didn’t tell me about the girl in Central Park. But after a while, he confided in me. When I managed to revoke his sentence and free him, he said he would track you down and see if what you had was a one-night spark or real.”

  He didn’t continue.

  I blurted, desperate for more. “What else...what else did he talk about?”

  “He, uh—he found you.”

  “Obviously.”

  “No, he found you the night he was released.” He waited for that bomb to destroy me. “He found you and then refused to contact you.”

  Tears puddled inside, growing wetter with every breath. “Why?”

  “I’m guessing that’s his part to tell.” He cleared his throat. “I’d better go. I’ll get my ass down to the station and start the proceedings to free him. Again.” Something clattered in the background. “I don’t know how things ended with you tonight, but if you want, call me tomorrow, and I’ll arrange a time for you to see him once he’s been processed.”

  My heart lurched. “Wait, he won’t be released tonight?”

  Larry laughed as if I’d told a hilarious joke. “No, my dear. Where Penn is concerned, the NYPD have a thing against him. They’ll keep him locked up for as long as they can. And they’ll succeed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they have history.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Penn

  I FUCKING HATED bars.

  I hated metal sinks and hard-ass beds.

  I hated the men who were as corrupt as everyone else, getting high off shiny badges and getting hard on screwing over innocence.

  Fair and just, my ass.

  The short journey down to the precinct irritated me. The cops and their radios irritated me. Pedestrians and traffic lights irritated me.

  Everything fucking irritated me because I knew I wouldn’t be treated fairly.

  The moment I was on their turf, I had no power.

  None.

  I sat in fury, listening to my heartbeat pounding and splashing around in pools of regret. For once, the regret wasn’t toward Elle but Larry. I’d let him down. I’d promised him I wouldn’t be in this situation again because it was too fucking hard to get free last time when I’d done nothing wrong.

  This time...I had done something wrong.

  I’d beaten up Greg.

  They had reason to detain me, and the man out for my blood would fucking wring his hands in glee when I showed up. He would ensure Greg would elaborate and collaborate; he’d document my victim’s injuries with pride, and he would once again take great satisfaction in fucking over my life knowing he had me fair and square.

  It wouldn’t matter Greg had been the kidnapper and about-to-be rapist. It wouldn’t matter his crimes far exceeded my own. And it didn’t matter I’d been taken shoeless, moneyless, and with dried blood and gore all over my body.

  It would make an interesting mug shot.

  It would only make his workday that much more enjoyable.

  My head ached with the battle I was about to walk into. I wanted to rub my face, but the cuffs kept my hands tied. New York spat me out like a worm from the apple as the cop car slid through the reinforced gates and into Hell.

  I didn’t make eye contact or listen to the bastards who’d arrested me as they opened the vehicle, let me climb out with my motherfucking dignity, and didn’t dare touch me as we stalked into the processing room.

  And wouldn’t you know? He was there already.

  Him.

  My nemesis.

  His uniform, like always, was iron-creased with starched perfection. His salt and pepper hair cut short on the sides and balding on top. The paunch from too many years spent behind a desk and too much gluttony on the lost dreams of others thickened his middle.

  His hands annoyed me.

  His face annoyed me.

  His entire fucking body pissed me the fuck off.

  I stood tall, bracing my legs. “Hello, Arnold.”

  His chapped lips opened in undisguised joy. “Ah, hello again, Everett. Fancy seeing you here. This is my lucky day.” He bared his teeth with bipolar emotions. “By the way, it’s chief of police to you.”

  “Chief?” I cocked my head cond
escendingly. “Seems, I owe you congratulations. Last time you fucked me over, you were only a captain.”

  He buffed his nails on his shirt, gloating. “Yes, well, I’ve moved up the ranks since then.”

  Not good.

  Fucking so not good for me.

  “So it’s Chief Twig now?” I wrinkled my nose. “No better than Captain Twig, is it? An unfortunate last name you’ve got there, Arnie.”

  His face reddened with anger. “You honestly want to piss me off? You know what happened last time, boy.”

  “I do remember last time. Quite clearly, in fact.” I smirked. “And I have no doubt being polite or begging for mercy will get me the exact same conclusion as being a fucking bastard. So do your worst.”

  I shifted on the spot, spreading my stance. “Oh, and I’m no longer a boy. Then again, keep calling me that if it make’s you feel better, seeing as I could kick your ass back when I was thirteen.”

  The other officers stepped forward, one on either side to teach me a lesson in respect.

  But Arnold waved them off. He enjoyed breaking me too much to let others do it. “I’ll take it from here, ladies and gentlemen. Good work bringing in this violent repeat offender. Coffee’s on me.”

  “Not a problem, Chief.” The officers left, closing the door behind them.

  I wished they hadn’t.

  If they’d stay for the show, they’d finally learn what a twisted, immoral bastard their captain, now chief, was.

  The room turned stagnant with history, slurs, and a past both of us would like to delete.

  “Don’t you mean the donuts are on you?” I glared at his waistline. “Put on a few pounds there, Arnie.”

  His hands clenched into balls, but he smiled tightly. “Keep being a dick and your rap sheet will just get longer and longer.”

  “I don’t need to be a dick for that to happen. By the time I’m out of this place, the protection of a woman from an asshole about to rape her will have morphed into armed robbery, intent to kill, child molesting, and most likely a bank job and grannie murder.” I smiled, even though I felt like tearing the room apart with rage. “Isn’t that right, Arnie?”

  He matched my smile, both of us using a normally kind human response to wield emotion filled with contempt and loathing. “You got it, my boy.”