“Ma’am?” David played with his gun holster, touching the handle of his weapon. He kept his gaze on Penn. “Let me take you home. Your father and Steve are on their way here. I dropped them off at a local establishment before finding you. I refused to let them come to the crime scene, in case—” He coughed. “Anyway, the important thing is to call him and say you’ll meet him back at home. I’ll arrange transportation for him to meet us there.”
Dad.
I needed to check his heart was okay from this stressful night. I needed to do a great many things. I should nod and follow David to the Range Rover and never look back. I should file a police report, tell Steve as gently as I could that Greg was fired and if he ever got within a few hundred feet of me he’d be arrested, and spend the evening soothing my dad’s nerves.
And Sage—I need to feed Sage.
But something about Penn bewitched me once again. He stood there with his hand shaking slightly, his invitation unanswered.
I tilted my chin, ignoring David and asking questions of my own for once. “Why should I go with you, Penn? You’ve done nothing but lie to me. I’ve been so stupid up until now not to dig into who you truly are. To force you to tell me what you’re hiding.”
He didn’t move, merely cocked his head in agreement. “You’re not stupid. You trusted me. There’s a difference.”
“I never trusted you.”
“You did. Just like I trust you to come with me now and give me the courtesy of letting me explain myself.”
“The courtesy? Where was your courtesy when you hid who you truly are?” I moved closer, rage replacing my fear from the past few hours. “Where was your courtesy when Stewie dropped my sapphire star necklace at the charity gala and told me he’d kept it for you to reduce your robbery sentence?” My voice rose. “Where was your courtesy when you hurt me in that alley?”
David stiffened, his weapon coming back out as my voice throbbed with unresolved hatred and pain.
Penn didn’t move. His hand stayed up, waiting for me to accept him. His eyes remained unreadable, but his lips softened as he murmured, “My courtesy is now. I came for you, Elle. I didn’t save you from Greg so I could leave and never see you again. I came for you so you could give me a second chance.”
I huffed. “I’ve already given you a second chance. You blew it.”
“Third chance then.”
Shaking my head, I wrapped arms around myself, suddenly cold in the ridiculous negligée. “I’m done with lies.”
“Good, so am I.” Penn stepped closer. “I promise you on that alley three years ago that I won’t touch you, I won’t hurt you, and I’ll drive you home the moment we’ve talked.”
“So you admit you were there. On the 19thof June.”
David glanced at us, watching our conversation with steely concentration.
Penn nodded. “I admit it. Just like I want to admit all of it. If you agree to come with me.”
Answers were so close. I was desperate for them. Hungrier for closure and truth than I’d ever been. It didn’t matter he was just as handsome as when he’d taken my virginity. It didn’t matter he was just as silver-tongued as when he’d coerced me to say yes to his seduction.
All that mattered was ending this, finishing the clues, and closing the story on this so-called romance.
David stepped closer, already knowing my decision before I did and ready to change my mind. “You can talk at a later date. Let me drive—”
I held up my hand, never looking away from Penn. “All right. I’ll go with you, Mr. Everett, if that is even your real name.” I stormed toward him, not caring he was dressed in blood and gore and so many unspeakable things from his past. A large bruise marked his cheek, his nose slightly swollen, his lip cut on the bottom. Despite all that, he was just as pretty as that night in the club when I’d said yes. “But the minute you’ve told me, I never want to see you again.”
His jaw clenched. “Understood.”
He moved toward the door. “Let’s go. The sooner I tell you, the better.”
I cringed at the bitter nastiness in his voice.
I couldn’t help the sting.
He wanted to put this behind us, too. Whatever physical connection we shared wasn’t enough to climb over the chasm of misdirection between us.
Good truth or bad.
Penn and I were over before we even began.
Chapter Fourteen
Penn
AN HOUR INTO the drive and we hadn’t said a word.
I had so many of the bastards to say yet not a single sentence formed in my head.
Elle didn’t help matters.
David had given her his blazer to sling over the gold thing she wore, and she sat with her arms and legs crossed, glaring at the road, the trees, the passing cars—anything but me.
Stopping for gas didn’t make it any better.
While I pumped fuel into the hungry vehicle, she climbed out and entered the service station—not caring what she wore, making me fall even more with the aloof beauty she wielded.
Once I finished filling the Merc, I found her slipping into a pair of pink diamanté flip-flops and braiding her tangled hair with a rubber band. She stood in perfection, surrounded by chip packets, cold drinks, and smutty magazines.
Such a mundane store in a mundane world but Elle fucking took my breath away. She stood so strong, even after what that cunt had done to her. She still moved with authority even though I’d done my best to strip her of it.
She was older, wiser, and more supreme than she’d been that night in the alley but just as intoxicating.
I should probably buy some shoes too, but all I could think about was her.
Unable to tear my eyes off her, I walked into a display holding promotional chocolate bars, dislodging a sign and splattering it to the floor.
Her head jerked up, her lips pulling into half a smile as I spun around and marched to the counter to pay for the gas.
Shit.
The attendant swiped my card just as her electrical presence appeared by my side. My skin instantly rippled with chemistry, need, and heavy frustration that I’d been with this woman. That she’d let me into her body and started to open her heart, and now, I had no claim on her.
She wasn’t mine standing in the middle of the gas station in a nightgown and bodyguard’s blazer. She was free to be looked at, flirted with, and seduced.
I punched the credit card machine with fury.
“Can you pay for these, too? I don’t have my purse with me.” She dropped the price tag of the flip-flops and a bottle of water onto the counter, giving me a pointed look. “I’ll pay you back.”
I knew she’d pay me back. She was generous that way.
“I don’t want your money. Call it a gift.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”
How was she supposed to know buying her something—even something as simple as shoes and a drink—gave me more fucking pleasure than I’d had in years?
I wouldn’t let her take that pleasure away from me.
I nodded, allowing her to think she’d won, not trusting my voice. Not trusting my body when she was around.
Every inch of me craved to grab her and just hold her. I didn’t need to fuck her to feel close to her. I didn’t need to kiss her to feel the supernova sensation I already drowned in.
Smiling at the attendant, Elle took her bottle of water and padded out of the station in her new shoes. I watched her go, drinking in the sight of her toned legs and the way the blazer skimmed beneath her ass.
The cashier cleared his throat. “You’ll have to swipe your card again. I’ve put the new amount in.”
It hurt to trade the vision of her with him, but I did and paid the eight dollars she’d cost me before pocketing the receipt and leaving the store.
Elle had already climbed into the passenger seat, sipping on her water.
The way her throat moved.
The way her hair fell over her shoulder.
<
br /> Goddammit, I needed to get myself under control so I could have a civilized conversation with this woman. Knowing Greg had touched her—kissed her—caused a dominating urge to crawl through me. I had to replace the last man who’d had his hands on her with me.
But what was the point?
She’s going to leave the moment she knows anyway.
Then there’d be other men. Men much better than me in every way.
Hiding my sigh, I yanked open the Merc’s door and slid behind the wheel.
I needed to let her go once I’d found a pair of balls big enough to tell her who I was. But sitting with her in the small space, inhaling her smell, wishing I hadn’t been such an asshole...it hurt.
She wasn’t wearing perfume but her natural scent alone was enough to make me rock fucking hard and going out of my goddamn mind.
Turning the key and throwing the Merc into gear, I revved the engine and rejoined traffic.
Glancing at her, I said, “Are you going to be silent the rest of the drive or are you going to talk—”
She held up her hand, taking another sip of water before screwing the cap on. “Not a word, Penn. Not one word until you can give me your undivided concentration.”
“I can talk and drive at the same time.”
“But can you tell the truth and look me in the eye?” A droplet lingered on her lower lip, making me suffer with the desire to wrench her close and kiss her so fucking hard she only felt lust, not anger.
But I kept my hands to myself—just like I promised and fell silent.
She wanted to wait?
Fine.
I would wait.
The next few hours would give me time to formulate how best to tell her everything that’d happened to me, everything I was, and everything I would never be.
And I hoped to fucking God she didn’t walk out the door the moment I’d finished and refused to see me again.
* * * * *
The drive that’d taken me all night and most of the day to find Elle only took a few hours in the opposite direction. Mainly streamlined by knowing the address and direction and going a more direct route.
New York glittered on the horizon, welcoming me back with hardship, promise, destitution, and wealth. I’d lived on two extremes. Poor and rich. Lost and found. Safe and scared. Most of the time, my new world was a thousand times better than my old one.
But that was before Elle.
Before I fucked everything up.
Pulling into the parking space attached to my apartment block, I turned off the engine and gripped the steering wheel with all the frustration and regret I couldn’t show. Emotions I couldn’t let her see if I was going to be honest tonight.
She had to think I had no shame. That I had accepted the consequences and wouldn’t beg like a pussy for forgiveness.
The sun had gone down.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept, and I doubted Elle had managed any either.
She’d been kidnapped and mentally tortured. If she wasn’t so damn strong, I would’ve expected her to cry and nap the entire journey home.
But she hadn’t.
She’d watched the view but never relaxed. Not once. Then again, neither had I.
Fuck, I really should’ve driven to her apartment and allowed her to take a shower, have some painkillers for her black eye, and rest before I dumped this shit on her.
I wasn’t any better than Greg was by holding her hostage at my place.
However, Elle didn’t seem to care. Climbing out, her pink flip-flops smacked the pavement in the direction of the front entrance. She hadn’t waited for me to hold her door. She didn’t need my help in any way.
I followed, making sure to lock the Merc, glowering at the tire marks on the street from the night I’d peeled after her when that bastard jumped her.
I knew his situation was a shitty one. I understood his pain.
But that didn’t give him the right to touch what was mine.
I’d thought sleeping with her wouldn’t change my steadfast plan to taste her and then move on. That was why I’d kicked her from my place only moments after being inside her. I needed space to clear my head and school my stupid fucking heart.
But that was before I found out she was a virgin.
Before she trusted me enough to give me that first time.
In an odd way...she’d waited for me.
And fuck, that twisted me up inside.
I hadn’t deserved that gift. Not in the slightest. If she knew what I’d done, who I truly was...she wouldn’t have let me anywhere near her, let alone inside her.
You didn't give her a choice. You stalked her. You infiltrated her life. You befriended her father. You’re the worst kind of bastard.
I jogged (painfully) in front of her before she got to the front door. Inserting the key, I didn’t make eye contact, didn’t reach out to touch her.
I couldn’t.
My bones bellowed from Greg’s henchmen beating me awake and the recent fight with Greg himself. I suspected a rib might be broken, and my nose had definitely earned a new bump.
I was sick of the crusty blood on my knuckles and the throbbing in my joints. I wanted to rip off my dirty clothes and have a long hot shower, a triple shot of expensive vodka, then pass out cold in my bed.
But I couldn’t do that either.
Because Elle came first. Just like she always had and always fucking would. She didn’t have a clue what she meant to me and how much I’d thought about her, cursed her, and bargained with my fate over her.
For years, I’d hated her. I’d planned ways to make her pay. But now that she’d been in my arms, now that I’d tasted her, listened to her, fucked her...that hate? Shit, that hate had turned into something so much worse.
Elle didn’t look over her shoulder as she entered the building. Her footsteps were weary as she placed one on the flight of stairs, preparing to haul herself to the twelfth floor.
“Wait.” I strode to the left where the foyer bent in a crescent, hiding the two elevators that served the building. I’d had them repaired and ready to use. “This way.”
She huffed but followed. The slap of her flip-flops sounded like an accusation.
Pressing the button, an elevator opened, and I held the doors while she ducked under my arm and jumped in. She kept her gaze on the old-fashioned round buttons as I stood beside her and pressed my floor.
The only floor renovated so far, and the one I would move out of once the building was ready for inhabitants. I’d rent each apartment and buy another for myself.
The doors closed, and the clunking of mechanisms filled the space.
Elle stiffened.
The atmosphere around us thickened. If there weren’t so much unsaid shit between us, I’d shove her against the wall, haul up that ridiculous nightdress, and sink inside her. I’d force her to say hello to me, to see me, to truly listen.
But I’d lost that right.
I merely clenched my hands and counted the eternally long seconds in my head, so I didn’t terrify her by slapping the emergency stop and forcing her to listen to me with no way out, nowhere to run, and no way to ignore me.
She shot out the second the elevator stopped and the doors slid open with rusty groans.
I followed, ducking around her to unlock the door. Stepping inside the art deco delight, I had no sense of comfort or relief at being back. My blood decorated the floor from the nosebleed I had as I barreled from the bed with thugs chasing me. The interior design company who’d modernized and styled the place had bought the furniture, so there was nothing of me in the walls or appliances. Nothing of me in anything because I’d been taught to be so transient in my world. To only covet that which I could carry. To only steal that which I could use. To only befriend those who wouldn’t kill me.
The three cardinal rules.
Too bad, I broke all three the night I met Elle three years ago.
I’d coveted her when she wasn’t mine to take. I�
�d stolen pieces I wanted because I had no choice. And I’d befriended her even when I should’ve kept my distance.
Elle kicked off her flip-flops by the door and padded barefoot to the black couch on chrome legs that made it look as if it hovered in the living room.
She sat demurely, her legs crossed, eyes narrowed with focus. She didn’t ask to use the bathroom or beg to rest before we began.
She was all business.
“We’re here. We’re alone. Speak.” Her chin came up. The loose braid she’d done in the gas station looped over her shoulder, begging me to fist it and drag her upright to kiss me. To take what I was desperate to take before she walked out the door and disappeared.
Not replying, I headed into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses, and filled them with water. Popping a few Advil—two for her, two for me—I took my haul to where she sat and waited until she held out her hand for the drugs then took the water.
We sipped silently, swallowing the painkillers as I sank into the chesterfield armchair at a right angle to where she sat on the couch.
She reached forward to put her half-empty glass on the coffee table, watching me carefully.
I didn’t give up mine.
I kept it as physical support, tracing the droplets on the sides, smearing it with grime from my hands. I needed something to hold. Something to touch. I just wished it could be her.
“Are you going to spit it out, Penn, or do I need to leave?”
I brought the glass to my lips, buying another few seconds as I swallowed a cold mouthful.
She shifted impatiently, her thighs tight and fingers clutching the couch.
Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I said quietly, “Where do you want me to start?”
She flinched as if I’d shouted. Her shoulders stayed around her ears as she snapped, “How about the beginning?”
“There are too many beginnings to know which one you mean.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop with the riddles and spit it out.”
I inhaled hard. “You want to know about the alley.”
She nodded, her tone sarcastic. “Obviously. If that’s where you want to start.”
I risked looking at her. Our eyes locked, heat and fire and brimstone. Passion and lust and denial. So much denial. She looked at me as if I wasn’t worthy of being close to her even though I’d saved her life.
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