Throne of Truth Read online

  I wanted to kick him in the balls, but slowly, I inched closer.

  Once I was standing in front of him, he spun his finger in the air. “Turn around.”

  I swallowed a retort and did as he asked. Instantly, my spine crawled. I didn’t like having him behind me, unable to see.

  His fingers latched around my wrists.

  I tensed, then relaxed a little as the tight twine slowly loosened, sliding off one wrist altogether.

  I looked over my shoulder, waiting to be freed completely, but he tied a new knot around one wrist, tugging it until I turned back around to face him.

  His teeth flashed in the golden light bulbs. “Can’t have you running now, can we?”

  I glowered at the leash he’d formed, binding my arm into his control, tethering me to him while giving my other arm the relief of coming forward and working out the kinks in my shoulder.

  “I won’t run.” I itched with the need to undo the knots imprisoning me.

  “Don’t take it personally, but I don’t believe you.” Pulling me forward, he grinned as my body pressed up against his, my arm forced around his waist with the aid of the rope.

  Lowering his head, he nuzzled my neck.

  I shuddered with repulsion.

  “Now that I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go, Elle.”

  Doing my best to breathe slow and steady, rather than give into the overwhelming desire to scream, I said, “You don’t have me, Greg. You’ll never have me.”

  “Well, I don’t see anyone else here claiming you.” He kissed my cheek. “You’re mine, and you’re not going anywhere.”

  “I don’t need someone to claim me. I claim me.” The CEO in me came out. I looked down my nose with arrogant authority. “What do you hope to achieve here, Greg? You can’t keep me prisoner for long. They’ll find me. Whatever sick and twisted idea you have of marrying me to gain access to Belle Elle is riddled with flaws. Even married to me, I’d never give you part ownership of my company, and no judge would ever grant you my property if I said you forced me.”

  My mouth ran away with things I’d promised myself I wouldn’t say. “And what about our fathers? Do you honestly think they’ll let you get away with this? My dad will either have you murdered in your sleep or thrown in jail, and your dad will have to live with the shame of what you’ve done.”

  My free hand swooped up. I tapped him in the temple as if he were a simpleton and needed a good slap to wake up. “Think this through, Greg. Release me now, and I won’t press charges. I’ll tell our fathers to let it go. I’ll inform everyone that you had to get whatever jealousy you felt about Penn out of your system and then everything can go back to normal.”

  His face didn’t change from the cordial playboy I knew and tolerated. His dark blond hair cascaded over one eye, giving the illusion he was easy to play and manipulate. “Normal, huh?”

  I nodded. “With no repercussions. Think about it.” I tugged my wrist, jiggling his hand where he held the other end of the rope. “Release me, take me home, and we’ll forget about all of this.”

  He pursed his lips as if contemplating my proposal. Then a dark veil fell over his eyes. “Too bad for you, I don’t like normal.”

  Stomping forward, he jerked me through the kitchen and out the backdoor. Stumbling down the steps toward the forest edge, I swallowed my fear as his stride headed straight toward the looming forest.

  What the—

  Where is he taking me?

  The cabin wasn’t wanted, but it was a damn sight better than traipsing through a jungle late at night.

  “Greg—”

  “Shut up, Noelle. You’ve had your little speech; now, shut the fuck up.” He yanked a small flashlight from his pocket and turned on the ray of illumination as we crunched through bracken, entering the world of looming leafy giants. “You think you have me all figured out, huh? Bet you thought I was a fucking moron for bringing you to my dad’s cabin.” He laughed coldly. “Bet David is already on his way here. Too bad for him.”

  He laughed harder as he broke into a jog, dragging me behind him. “I’m not a fuckwad, Elle. I’ve been planning this for months.” Beelining toward an old shed tucked up against ancient trees, he skidded to a stop.

  Looking back with victorious smugness, he wrenched the unlocked padlock off the rickety doors and slithered the chain from around the wooden handles.

  The rope leash lashed tight around my wrist each time he moved, giving me no slack to run. Cracking open the doors, he pulled me through and shone the flashlight onto the one thing I didn’t want to see.

  Another car.

  Clean and new—something that would guarantee to work and not break down in exhaustion.

  A black Dodge Charger.

  Pulling me around to the passenger entry, he opened the door and shoved me inside. “We’re only half-way there, Elle. This was the decoy. The real destination is where no one will guess. A place only I know. A place where we’ll finally get to know each other.”

  My heart switched from pissed off to manic.

  Greg slammed the door in my face, locking me inside.

  Oh, God, what should I do?

  Jogging around to the driver’s side, he hopped in as if we were honeymooners about to explore. Inserting a key into the ignition, the car woke up with a loud grumbling growl.

  He placed his hand on my knee. “A place where we’ll get to know each other very well.” Throwing the car into gear, he shot forward and rammed the shed doors wide, not caring about marking the vehicle or ruining his father’s retreat.

  We fishtailed on the mulchy ground as the engine roared. He stomped on the accelerator and drove rocket-ship style through the small trail, past leering trees, over broken branches, and exploded onto a dirt track, leaving all phones, cars, and well-known cabins behind.

  Penn wouldn’t find me.

  David and Dad wouldn’t find me.

  I truly was on my own.

  Chapter Two

  Penn

  I THOUGHT THE night couldn’t get any worse.

  I was wrong.

  Served me right, seeing as my entire life I’d had the shittiest luck of anyone. If I took a risk, it backfired. If I spied an opportunity, it was a con. If I saw hope, it was always false.

  So why I thought tonight couldn’t get any worse after Elle ran from the charity function, didn’t answer her phone, and refused to come to the door when I drove over to her place, I didn’t know.

  This was my normal. I had to get used to it instead of being constantly surprised.

  I’d returned home confused and fucked off with the entire world. I’d entered my building and climbed the steps to the renovated unit that I’d keep as my own while doing up the rest of the apartments for people transitioning from an existence on the streets back into the rat race we called life.

  I had great plans for this place.

  The chipped walls and leaky pipes didn’t faze me. I had the funds to invest in its foundation and décor, and I couldn’t fucking wait until the building crew had finished their current project in lower Manhattan and could work exclusively on mine.

  My thoughts bounced between my past and Elle as I stalked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of vodka on the rocks.

  Carrying my drink to my bedroom, I didn’t bother to undress. I merely kicked off my shoes, shrugged out of the silver blazer, and unbuckled my belt. The rest—a white shirt, silver tie, and metallic slacks remained on as I climbed onto the bed, sipped a sharp mouthful of liquor, and pulled the bag containing Elle’s lingerie and sex toys from our first night together toward me.

  I couldn’t fucking wait to use the toys on her, but now, she’d run away. She’d run before I could tell her, then refused to have anything to do with me. Her door remained closed, her phone unanswered.

  If I was honest, the anvil wedged where my heart should be made me ache. But I’d known we couldn’t have a future. I’d banked on it. I’d hunted her knowing full well I would take what I want
ed and then leave.

  But that was before the chocolate mousse and the limo and the gala.

  Each time I saw her, it got harder and harder to keep my emotions from spilling.

  The fake engagement, the bullshit...all of it was gone. Just like Elle.

  Fuck.

  Exhaustion from all the years I’d been planning this finally caught up with me. I swigged the rest of my drink before my eyes could close.

  I would rest tonight.

  Tomorrow, I would apologize, accept her verbal lashing, and then walk out of her life for good.

  The plan wasn’t a good one but having it helped calm my messy thoughts.

  I reclined against my pillows and vanished into sleep, just as Elle had vanished from my life for the second time.

  * * * * *

  Sleep began quickly and ended suddenly.

  Just like I should’ve expected more shitty things to happen, I should’ve seen this coming.

  But I hadn’t because I was a fucking idiot.

  I woke to a fist to my jaw, jarring me from chaotic dreams into manic reality.

  Another fist landed on my solar plexus, stealing my oxygen, making me gasp.

  Another fist to my jaw followed by a double jab to my stomach.

  What the fuck?

  Two men, four pummels, one of me.

  I curled up on the mattress, protecting my head while they fucking beat me. Hip, chest, ribs, temple.

  Wash and repeat.

  I lost count how many blows they delivered or how many aches flared into being from new injuries and old. My past meant I’d taken a beating a few times while others I’d done the nasty work.

  Bones never forgot, though.

  They heated some nights in remembrance. They ached on others in punishment.

  I was a walking shambles of bones and lies, and these cunts had let themselves into my place to attack me while I was unconscious.

  There was no way to retaliate without being knocked out. So I waited, grunting with agony, as they struck again and again.

  Finally, when I didn’t move or threaten to kill them, the bastards stopped their rain of pain, whispering to each other as I lay in my stupid little ball.

  Spying an opportunity to fight back, I pushed aside the blazing discomfort and launched upright.

  I always could move fast.

  They didn’t see it coming.

  I landed an uppercut on one asshole’s jaw and a side-kick to the other dickhead in the groin. “You fucking come into my place and hurt me?”

  They stumbled backward, holding body parts.

  I half-leapt, half-collapsed off my bed, fists raised. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”

  The bigger guy of the two cracked his neck, rearranging his beefy body. He swiped at his lower lip where his teeth had sliced him from my uppercut. “You’ll pay for that.” He launched himself at me.

  I met him head-on, fists to fists, kicks to kicks, but they’d already stripped my strength, and there were two of them.

  His punches landed too often, whittling away my power.

  “Hey, fucker,” the smaller guy said with a balaclava over his face. “Lie down, or we’ll knock you out.”

  The larger grunted something I couldn’t hear, his face covered with acne scars and a chin strap. He decked me hard, ringing my skull with church bells, swiping my balance until the room spun.

  I wobbled backward against the mattress.

  I tried to blink it away—to keep fighting. But a solid punch to my chest sent me soaring into horizontal.

  The smaller guy leapt on top of me, his knees pinning my chest to the bed. “Gonna stay down?”

  I kicked, but the big thug grabbed my legs. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  I glowered. “Get the hell off me.”

  “Say the magic words.”

  No fucking way was I being polite to these bastards.

  “What do you want?” I spat. “Money? Too fucking bad, I don’t have any here.”

  “Oh, we’re not here to steal from you.” The big guy chuckled. He motioned for his minion to get off my chest then planted a meaty hand on the same place he’d punched just a few seconds ago.

  My ribs screamed as he pressed heavily, activating bruises. “Now that we have your attention, I’ll give you the message.”

  “What message?”

  He tapped my cheek in warning. “Ah, no talking back, got it?” He glanced at his buddy, rolling his eyes. “They never learn.”

  I bit my tongue with all the hate I wanted to spew. They broke into my place, beat me up, then had the motherfucking audacity to roll their eyes at me as if I were the idiot.

  The second they left, I’d have them arrested, then ask Larry to ensure they never left the penitentiary system.

  Assholes.

  “Nope.” The balaclava dude laughed. “I can hurt him more, if you want?”

  “Nah, the orders were to rough him up not hospitalize him.” The brute climbed off me, brandishing his fist in my face. “You have a message.”

  “From who?”

  “Not gonna say who.” He smirked. “Message is to stay away from her. She’s mine. She’s left you to marry me. So fuck off, and screw some other blonde.” He cracked his knuckles. “Got it?”

  Oh, hell yes, I got it.

  That bastard Greg Hobson.

  The guy I’d hated from the moment I first met him and not just because he was the competition. I despised the way he watched Elle. It bordered on obsessive.

  “He hired you to scare me off.” I laughed, hacking up a mouthful of crimson spit. “He’s fucking delusional.”

  “Don’t care what he is. Those are the terms.”

  I pressed my bloody nose, checking for a break. My eyes watered. “She’ll never agree to be with him. He’d lost before I took her.”

  The big goon crossed his arms. “Don’t care about the fine print. We’ve done our job and delivered the message.”

  My mind raced, boycotting the image of Elle ever agreeing to be with Greg. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  Unless...

  Shit!

  I stood up. The room swam. My head pounded.

  What if Greg hurt her? What if that was why she hadn’t answered the door or picked up the damn phone?

  Elle.

  Shooting forward, I dodged the guys as they tried to hit me again.

  “Hey!” They gave chase, but even bleeding and beaten, I had a lifetime of running on my side. Years of sprinting to save my skin. Decades of avoiding death.

  I didn’t look back.

  Bolting from the bedroom, I skidded into the living room and slammed into the sideboard where I’d tossed my car keys.

  My bare feet slapped on the hardwood, my trousers loose from no belt. But thank Christ I never undressed.

  What I was about to do would’ve been severely inconvenient while naked.

  My fingers hooked over the key chain as I propelled myself forward, ducked under a swinging fist, and bowled out the door before they could catch me.

  I was gone before they managed to huff down the second flight of stairs.

  Chapter Three

  Elle

  FROM ONE CABIN to another.

  The décor and building materials were the same (pine everywhere), but this was smaller with a cozy living room, tiny kitchen, and narrow hallway to the bedrooms. However, judging by the car headlights that’d glinted off a body of water as we pulled down the long drive and stopped outside the quaint dwelling, we were now on a lake rather than buried in a forest.

  The clock over the higgledy-piggledy stone fireplace said we’d been here an hour. A full hour since Greg tossed me onto the red and navy plaid couch, grabbed a bottle of gin from the fridge, and made us both a cocktail.

  I’d accepted it and actually drank the sour liquid, doing my best to relax and let the liquor take away my fear so I could concentrate on the best way to get free.

  My attention refused to l
eave the clock.

  Four a.m. yet my eyes were wide and brain zapping with awareness rather than scratchy with sleep. We’d been traveling for hours. It felt like days since I’d seen Penn or Larry or Stewie. Months since I’d heard my dad or stroked Sage’s soft fur.

  Too damn long being Greg’s little captive.

  Greg groaned as he reclined on the single seat next to the couch; the twine from my wrist dangled over the arms of the chairs, forever joining me to him. “God, it’s good to sit down.”

  “You’ve been sitting while driving.”

  He sipped his cocktail. “Driving is tiring.”

  “And kidnapping is wrong.”

  “Who said anything about kidnapping?” He smirked, bringing the glass to his lips again. “Last time I checked, you weren’t a kid anymore.” His gaze dragged up and down my body. “In fact, you’re very grown up.”

  I fought the desire to slap him. My hands curled around my drink.

  We stared for the longest minute, full of war and battle for authority.

  Breaking the contest, I threw back the rest of the gin and planted the glass loudly on the wooden coffee table. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “So demanding.” He stood, waiting for me to pull my aching body into standing. “But I can’t have you being uncomfortable now, can I?”

  “Just being in your company makes me uncomfortable.”

  His forehead furrowed. “Careful, Elle. That tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble.”

  Yanking on the rope, he marched forward, dragging me with him. He escorted me (for lack of a better kidnapping word) down the hallway to a single bathroom with a shower over the bath, an autumn leaf decorated shower curtain, and shell basin that had seen a few decades too many.

  He sidestepped, letting me overtake him. “Don’t try anything.” Shoving me toward the toilet, he grinned and waved the string, pulling it with him. “I’ll be right outside.”

  With his threat lingering, he shut the door.

  If this had been a ploy to climb out the window or find a weapon in the medicine cabinet, the leash and my bladder would’ve made it impossible. The twine barely gave me enough room to fumble with my dress and back up onto the toilet to do my business.