I waited for some resemblance of contrition. That his money-hungry brain would put self-preservation first rather than screwing over another just because Penn had things he didn’t.
For a second, I thought I’d won. His shoulders fell, his pout turned into questions.
But then he looked up, locked eyes with me, and something changed. Hard-edged contempt replaced his petty, childish greed. He snickered. “Oh, Elle.”
It sent sharp claws down my back, shredding me.
He murmured soft and sultry as if we were in bed together. “Guess you’ll find out in court. Won’t you?”
The world slowed down.
I’d come for a conclusion. To free Penn and finally uphold my side of the debt. But instead, all I got was uncertainty. The open-ended, unresolved fear that Greg wouldn’t do what I demanded. That he would willingly gamble with his life if it meant destroying Penn’s. That he would force me to lie under oath and join him in his manipulative game. That it might all backfire and I’d be the one behind bars for committing a crime.
This was stupid.
I hate him.
“How dare you—” I seethed.
The police touched my elbow, making me jump. “Ma’am, time to go.”
“This isn’t over, Greg.” Fury stole the rest of my voice as the officer guided me from the room while Greg blew me a condescending kiss.
I’d come to save Penn.
I’d failed.
I’d screwed up.
Again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Penn
FOUR DAYS IN hell.
I still had the cell to myself, which at least gave me some privacy. Recreational time and meals, I kept my head down and behavior impeccable. I didn’t brown nose or try to make friends, but I didn’t answer back or act like a dick if someone spoke to me.
I knew the rules. I stuck to them.
Larry told me to hang in there and stay focused on getting out. He pumped me with confidence only he could—thanks to the previous miracles he’d worked on my behalf.
I didn’t let the thickening anxiety drown me because he was on my side.
He said he was working on my case when I’d been given a phone pass two days ago. Visitation rights were still pending and probably wouldn’t be granted for a while. Remand prisoners sometimes got better rights than our convicted cousins, but most of the time, we got worse.
They liked to claim visits and phone calls were detrimental to remand prisoners because evidence hadn’t been provided to the court yet and no verdict had been granted. Documents and information pertinent to particular crimes had a way of going missing, but at the same time, fact building and truth collaborating stalled because communication was denied.
An unwinnable situation.
But hopefully, my lawyer and benefactor of not just money but friendship and happiness would find a way.
Like he always does.
Besides, phone calls were better. At least, I didn’t have to sit across from Larry and see the fucking disappointment in his eyes. It would kill him to see me back here, and I’d already spent last year fearing he’d die. I didn’t want to be the cause of his stress all over again.
Not to mention, I couldn’t think about Elle in a place like this. I couldn’t call her because it ripped my heart out knowing I couldn’t touch her, kiss her, look her in the eye and tell her everything she wanted to know.
She knew who I was. She didn’t know my past. Would she still apologize to me after I’d told her everything? Would she still trust me...or at least learn to trust me?
We were forced apart, and we would remain apart until I was a free man again.
And if that never happens?
I coughed with pain.
Well, I guess it’s over then.
I wouldn’t let her waste her life waiting for me while I festered in this hellhole.
Shuffling forward in the line for lunch, I handed over my tray as the men on kitchen duty slopped a runny taco with the barest amount of cheese. I pursed my lips in disgust then moved on to collect a bottle of water and a rosy apple.
Taking my food to the table squashed against the wall, I climbed over the bench and sat heavily. The prior times I’d been here, I didn’t remember being so fucking down. Sure, I wasn’t happy, but at least I still had a laugh with one or two of the guys I had become friends with.
I still had the motivation to go to the library or work hard on assigned tasks throughout the week.
This time? Fuck, I felt so tired. My body hadn’t gotten over the beating. My joints were still hot and swollen, reluctant and stiff to move. I hadn’t slept well with the occasional nap while glaring at the ceiling, and I had no desire to make friends, even while I knew it was safer to be liked than ostracized.
I just didn’t fucking care about anything anymore.
Maybe it was because I’d tasted what true happiness should be? I’d been wealthy, working toward a good cause, and falling in fucking love with a girl I’d wanted for three very long years.
To have that stripped away...it hurt. A lot more than being told I had a bed and regular food after months of roughing it in a New York winter.
“Hey.” A guy with black dreadlocks and a spider tattooed on his cheek sat opposite me. His long legs looked like a praying mantis as he clambered over the bench. “Name’s Scoot.”
I took a bite of my apple, extending my hand like civilized society demanded. “Penn.”
We shook then released. Scoot dived into his taco while I worked my fruit.
“You in for long?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Could be.”
“Me, I’m here for seventeen. Served three. Not even half-way there yet.”
I nodded in commiseration, placing the apple core to the side.
As much as I should chat and get to know this new crew, I found my mind slipping backward to a few years ago.
To the day when Larry came for me and I was able to leave as a free man.
* * * * *
TWO YEARS, THREE MONTHS AGO
“We’re leaving.”
I did my best to control my heartbeat as it fucking leaped. However, I couldn’t stop my mouth from hanging wide in utter fucking surprise. “Are you serious?”
For three months, Larry had been a regular visitor. Between representing Gio and me, I guessed he spent most of his life behind bars. The only difference was he got to go home at night, and we stayed inside.
I shook my head, not daring to believe. “How?”
“Lack of evidence and too much circumstantial hearsay. You’re free to go.” He grinned, waving with his briefcase to the door.
The door.
That was open.
The room where we always met had become a safe haven for me. I didn’t know where in the prison it was located or how many steps I’d need to take before I traded locks for freedom but just the words free to go made my blood pump faster, feeding limbs speed and power, ready to bolt and never fucking stop.
“But—I have so much time left.”
“Time that was never yours to serve.” He leaned forward, whispering, “I wasn’t able to point fingers at Sean Twig this time, but I’ll continue to work on the case. I’ve had a few interesting leads pop up, so I’ll follow those and see where they go.”
I couldn’t...
How the fuck did he do this?
Why had he helped me?
What made me so damn special?
Larry had achieved the impossible. Not only had he freed me but he’d also kept me away from Arnold Twig’s hatred by not targeting his son. To this day, I had no idea why Twig hated me so much. Was it because I tried inherently to be good despite doing bad things? Because his son was a fucking idiot, who committed crimes because he was bored? Or had I mistakenly pissed him off at the beginning, and he’d had a grudge ever since?
Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.
Free.
I’m...free.
I almost fucking came
with how sexy that word sounded.
“What will you do with the information once you’ve got it?” I tried to keep my voice disinterested when really I panted for knowledge. Would he go after Sean? Would he give me an even greater enemy in Arnold?
He cleared his throat. “I guess that’s up to you.”
Most of me wanted them to pay. To do the time I’d been forced to and steal parts of their lives in return. But a part of me was still terrified of Arnold. He had the power to lock me up all over again.
I should run and disappear.
Leave New York.
So he could never touch me.
Larry followed my thoughts. “As far as I’m concerned, this is over unless you want vindication. You’re free to do whatever you want.” He grinned. “If in the future you want justice, and decide to go after Sean and his father, you’ll have to promise me one thing.”
After everything he’d done for me in the past few months? Everything he’d listened to? The judgment he didn’t give? The kindness he delivered? The updates he gave on Gio in Fishkill? The visits he gave Stewie in Child Protective Services? The decision to apply for temporary custody of a kid who wasn’t his just because he clicked with him and wanted to provide a better future than the one he had?
Fuck, I’d give him anything he asked for. “I promise.”
“You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“Don’t need to. You’ve done me a solid, Larry. Name it.”
He smiled, and it was full of friendship and respect rather than demeaning and cruel. “Promise me you won’t end up here again.” His face shadowed. “If we do go after Sean and you end up back in here...God knows what Arnold Twig will do or how far he’ll bury you.”
Goosebumps spread under my prison uniform. That wasn’t a hard promise to keep. I’d keep it for me, not just him. “I have no intention of ever ending up here again.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” Larry placed the paperwork I just signed, accepting my release and terms of my parole, back into his briefcase. “Let’s go then. I think a burger and fries are the first points of business, don’t you?”
My mouth watered to have junk food while surrounded by air and no bars in sight. “You’re on.”
Marching toward the door, I paused on the threshold, expecting a hand to clamp on my shoulder or an order to return to my cell.
Fear crashed over my thoughts of burgers, believing for a split second that this was a dream and I’d wake up in my cot with years left to serve.
But nothing happened.
No commands. No punishment. No opening my eyes and seeing the same gray cell.
“What are you waiting for?” Larry pushed past me into the hallway. “Come along, I’ll have to leave you now while you’re processed, but I’ll meet you out front.” He patted my back. “You okay, kid?”
I swallowed the nerves, excitement, terror, joy. “Yeah, I’m good.”
* * * * *
This is all so surreal.
Eating in a fancy-ass dining room; listening to the conversation between Larry, my lawyer turned guardian angel, and Stewie, Gio’s baby brother—I couldn’t get a grip on reality.
I liked Larry. I loved him for what he’d done for me. But we were still lawyer and client, not friends—we were on our way, but people like me didn’t let their guard down easy.
For years, I’d lived alone on the streets. Scrapping for safe sleep spots, fighting over good quality dumpster food, arguing over the best corners to beg at.
Making friends in that situation wasn’t easy, so I avoided everyone. If someone smiled, I took that as a threat. If someone followed me, I took that as war.
For Larry to open his house to me—a fucking thief—and make me welcome. Well, that made me feel like a real shitty person that I didn’t have his class and trust.
It also made me ache inside with a heart that’d long since stopped looking for affection when he and Stewie grinned at each other.
Their relationship was totally different from ours.
Theirs was pure and uncomplicated.
Man and boy. Tutor and student. Father and son.
They laughed with each other. Joked. Stewie giggled with intelligence that I’d never seen him show on the streets, and Larry poked fun at him, throwing corn kernels, not caring if he got food on his expensive dining room rug.
I didn’t say much that first night.
I couldn’t.
I just soaked it in, waiting for life to interrupt this wonder and say ‘you asshole, get back on the streets where you belong.’
Instead, Larry offered me a place to stay until I got on my feet. He told me I could earn my keep by helping him with other cases. That I could go with him when I was ready to visit Gio and maybe let bygones be bygones and become friends, thanks to Stewie.
To him, the offers were so simple. But to me, they were the motherfucking world.
Before retiring to the guest room where a queen-sized bed and navy striped linen invited me so much better than scratchy single bunks, Larry called me into the drawing room where he and Stewie were playing a game of Chutes and Ladders.
I doubted Stewie had ever played games, let alone board games with no other purpose than social fun. His fun had been lighting fires with Gio to destroy evidence. Probably a pickpocket or two.
“Penn, before you crash, Stewie has something to give you.” Larry looked pointedly at the kid with slightly protruding ears who stared at the game board as if he could magically make the dice roll so he could avoid all the chutes and climb all the ladders.
When he didn’t look up, Larry prompted. “Stewie, remember what you wanted to give Penn? You spoke about it this afternoon when I said he was coming to stay with us for a while?”
Stewie’s head suddenly sprang up. “Oh, yeah!” Pushing up from the coffee table where he sat on his knees on the thick carpet, he bounced over to me, pulling something small from his pocket. “Here.” Handing it to me, I flinched as the cold slither of a necklace fell into my palm.
A sapphire star.
It might’ve been nine months since I’d seen her, but I remembered everything she said. How Gio and Sean had run off with her necklace. How her father had given it to her as a nineteenth birthday gift and how she’d forgotten to ask for it back. She’d also said it wouldn’t have been hers anymore but mine for saving her.
I’d told her no fucking way would I accept her charity. And yet, somehow, the necklace had ended up in my possession anyway.
It’s not mine.
I’m not keeping it.
It has to go back.
“How?” I cleared my throat. “Why do you have this?”
Stewie dug his foot into the carpet. “Gio gave it to me when he got snatched.”
Larry came over, holding a glass of amber liquor, looking content and completely relaxed even though he had two thieves living under his roof. “He asked Stewie to keep it for him, so he didn’t get charged for the robbery and attempted rape you were currently serving time for.” He lowered his voice. “That would’ve been highly inconvenient to Arnold Twig if evidence came to light, and the girl in question testified that it wasn’t you who’d accosted her in that alley.”
My heart pounded. This one piece of evidence could clear my record of that misunderstanding. All I’d need would be for Elle to collaborate my story. I could have vindication.
But then I’d also have two vicious enemies.
Sean was still out there...who the fuck knew what he would do if he learned I was free and ready to start fighting rather than remain the easy scapegoat.
“You didn’t return it to her?” I looked up, fingering the sapphire as if the jewelry could magically transport her to me.
“No.”
Stewie reached for it. “It’s mine. I gotta look after it. Keep it safe.”
It’s not yours.
I held it up, just out of reach. “Do you mind if I borrow it for the night?”
Larry met my eyes over Stewie�
��s short height. He tilted his head, trying to understand why I wanted to keep something so unusual and unimportant to me.
But he was wrong. It was important. So fucking important.
I wouldn’t say it out loud. I wouldn’t admit that the plan to head to bed and sleep safely for the first time in forever had been put on hold for a few more hours.
But somehow, he knew.
He smiled, full of secrets as if he’d stolen mine and made them his own.
I’d told him a little about Elle. It’d been a mistake. I’d been down one day and didn’t want to talk court cases and potential freedom, so he’d brought up girlfriends. I’d snorted and said, of course, I didn’t have one, but then slipped as I mentioned the girl who’d kissed me in Central Park.
The entire story had come out.
Including the saga about the missing sapphire necklace.
“Uh, I dunno.” Stewie chewed on his lip. “I’m not supposed to let it go.”
I ducked to his height. “I know. And I won’t do anything bad with it. I promise.”
The lie burned my tongue, but I loved how easily it came. How swiftly I was able to bullshit. Was that my first real lie? The practice run for the torrent about to come?
Larry moved forward, placing his hand on Stewie’s shoulder. “Let Penn borrow it. He’s heading out, but he’ll be back soon. Won’t you, Penn?” His eyes were serious, intent on hearing my assurance.
How does he know?
“Upper East Side. Number twenty-two on Cherry Avenue.”
I didn’t need to ask who the address was for. Just like he didn’t need to ask what I was about to do.
Not looking at Stewie—unable to see the unwillingness to part with the necklace—I nodded once at Larry. “I’m coming back. I promise.”
“You’d better.” He tipped his glass in a salute. “I’m counting on you to keep that promise.”
“You can trust me, Larry.”
With Elle’s necklace clenched in my fist, I jogged to the front door and disappeared into the night.
* * * * *
Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than before.
Throne of Truth Page 15