Throne of Truth
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.