Throne of Truth

He sighed heavily, air expelling from his body, knowing that whatever pleading he’d come to do had backfired. “No. He’d be justified.”

“Exactly.”

My hands curled as my temper worked through me thick and fast. “Greg has to pay for locking up an innocent man—not to mention answer for what he did to me.”

Steve flinched. “As you have every right to do.”

“You keep saying I have a right to do these things, yet your voice says otherwise.”

He looked away, unable to keep eye contact. “It’s hard for me, Elle. I love you both. I hate everything about this. I hate Greg for what he did, but I still have the inherent need to protect him.”

“Just like I have the need to protect Penn.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to talk to your son, Steve.” I leaned forward, my wrists aching from hovering my weight over my desk. “But like you just said, I’m better than he is. He’s a greedy little bastard who thought he could take from me. I won’t stoop to his level. I want Penn’s freedom, and Greg will give me what I want. He owes me, Steve. I’ll get what I want, one way or another, so if you can’t handle that, I can arrange human resources to give you a comfortable retirement package and sever our relationship right now.”

He held up his hands. “No, I can keep this separate from work.” He lowered his voice. “I love your father almost as much as I love Greg. If Greg gets taken away from me, I need to have someone to support. Your father’s heart—I’ll watch over him.”

I twitched a little at his audacity saying I couldn’t look after my own father, but I knew the bond the two older men shared. He wasn’t answerable to his son’s actions. I had to remember that just because blood made family, family didn’t necessarily share the blame.

Penn didn’t share Larry or Stewie’s blood, but they were family, and they would stand by one another regardless.

Just like I will.

Tomorrow, I would give Greg a little visit.

And just like I’d told Steve, I would get my way—one way or another.

Chapter Twenty

Penn

TWO & A HALF YEARS AGO

“YOU HAVE A visitor.”

I looked up from where I was reading. The Department of Correction’s library had come a long way since the previous visits I’d enjoyed, but it still needed some TLC. The torn linoleum was ugly, and a lot of the books had missing pages from bastards not handling them with care. But at least, the government required certain books to be accessible to inmates.

For the past six months on my third stint here, I’d read most of the heavy volumes on law, company structure, and other mind-numbing jargon. Most of the time, they put me to sleep, making me wonder why I fucking bothered.

It wasn’t as if I’d ever get out and have the money to either trade the same companies I’d researched or somehow build a community out of nothing for the homeless kids I’d met along the way.

But I never stopped reading because of that one chance in a million that somehow I’d win the lottery of life, and all of this would change.

It sucked ‘cause a few months before I got locked up, I’d been introduced by accident to Gio’s younger brother, Stewie. We’d met one night behind a pizzeria that donated their end-of-night waste to alley kids.

Gio and I didn’t get along—mainly thanks to his friendship with the fuckwit Sean who used me as his ‘get out of jail free’ card, but Stewie was too young to get caught up in their world.

I had no idea how Sean and Gio became such idiotic friends. The son of a police captain and the orphaned, homeless kid. Just like most of us street rats, the young ones had no family to turn to.

Gio had successfully hidden Stewie and provided for him through crime. Sean was looking for kicks, and encouraged it.

I didn’t approve, but I did approve of the love between the brothers and almost wished I had a sibling to care for like he did.

I liked Stewie. I enjoyed his juvenile naivety that life would get better.

But then I cursed myself for wishing such a shitty existence on anyone—even if it would mean I wasn’t so damn lonely.

“Did you hear me?” The officer kicked the leg of my rickety chair. “Visitor.”

I closed the book on truth and justice and what the court of law was supposed to do and not how it’d failed me, and looked up. “I don’t have any visitors.”

Any I wanted to see, anyway.

Sean I definitely didn’t want to see. And Arnold Twig? Hell, fucking no. They were as bad as each other.

“Too bad. You have one, and they’re not leaving.”

I contemplated making a fuss, hitting this douche-bag over the head with the book to be reprimanded and not allowed visitors for a month. But I had eight years this time. I had nowhere else to be out there, but I was slowly fucking dying in here. I needed fresh air. I needed grass. I needed baseball fields and chocolate kisses with some girl who made my insides change owners and leap to belong to her.

Fuck...that girl.

She’d been a saving grace for me the past six months. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had something good to think about...but that kiss? Man, it warmed me on the nights I was coldest. The feel of her breast in my hand...wow, it gave me good dreams while I lived this fucking nightmare.

The officer rapped the table with his fist then walked away, pulling the proverbial leash that his uniform dictated over my prison overalls.