Throne of Truth

Reluctantly, I pushed the book away and followed.

Sean would be sorry if he ever showed up here again. Rules or not. I’d punch his motherfucking face in and screw it if it cost me an extra few years.

Punch Sean, and you’ll earn life.

Punch Sean and Arnold would have exactly what he’d wanted since the beginning.

A reason to crucify me.

No, as satisfying as it would be to waste my life on one measly face smash, I had bigger plans.

Someone had to pay.

Somehow, the law had to work.

Otherwise, what sort of fucked-up society did we live in?

* * * * *

“Hello, Penn.”

I scowled, shaking the hand of some old geezer with a canvas jacket slung over a shirt with a cravat and linen pants.

I’d never met him before in my life. “Who the hell are you?”

He grinned as we squeezed palms then separated. Motioning toward the metal table and chairs in a private room (not the welcome hall where normal inmates saw their loved ones), he sat first, waiting for me to join him.

“My name is Larry Barns. I’m your new attorney.”

What the fuck?

“I hate to tell ya, but you’re about six months too late.” I waved around the space. “Look around.”

Larry smirked as if he had a secret, pointing once again to the chair. “Please. Sit.”

I paused for a second, weighing pros and cons, deliberating about being a dick or decent.

Ah, whatever...I have nowhere else to be.

The book would still be there. I was the only one who read them apart from Henry who got released last week.

The guy linked his fingers over a file with my name scribbled on the top.

Penn Michael Everett.

The only thing linking me to my dead father, Michael Everett. My mom died having me, and for twelve awesome years, Dad did his best to care for me, work, pretend to be normal, and hide the depression eating holes inside him.

In the end, the depression didn’t kill him. It was the testicular cancer that he hadn’t checked and never said a word about until I found him dead in bed one day.

Child Protective Services stepped in, and the same sob story that happened to most orphans began. I got shuttled around—different schools, different families—until one day, I never went back.

I vanished into the streets of New York and became an adult rather than a burden on people who didn’t want me.

“I’ve been doing a case study on inmates here. Studying how long between arrest to jury hearings and paroles.” Mr. Barns opened my file. “I noticed you haven’t been granted the same courtesies as other inmates. Do you want to talk about that?”

I crossed my arms. “Nope.”

The beating I’d received still acted as super glue on Arnie's secrets. I hated that asshole with my entire being. But I hated his son even more—the son I conveniently looked like, who shared my height and build, so I was the perfect fall boy for his crimes.

Captain Daddy Dearest couldn’t have a criminal for a son, now could he? So he’d used his power to shift that blame onto me and keep good ole’ Sean squeaky clean.

“You know, I’m not like a normal lawyer.” Larry slid me an icy can of Coke that he must’ve grabbed from a vending machine outside.

Part of me didn’t want to take it as I didn’t want to owe him a dime, but then again, it had been so long since I’d tasted pure sugar.

Snatching it, I cracked open the drink and swigged.

Tart bubbles hit my tongue.

Christ, that tastes good.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I muttered, “Don’t care if you’re not a normal lawyer or not. Not gonna change the facts.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, about that. It’s the facts that interest me.” He lowered his voice. “There are discrepancies in your file that I want to know more about.”

My heart pounded as I glanced at the camera in the ceiling corner. Was this a trap? A test? Was Arnold watching me, waiting for me to slip up?

Wouldn’t fucking happen.

I bared my teeth. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

I stood. “Back off. Leave me alone.”

He reclined in his chair, holding up his hands. “I’m not trying to make this harder for you.”

“Well, you are, so beat it.”

Larry slowly closed the file and matched me standing. His eyes were soft, kind, but sharp with intelligence. “You know, I represent another man who refuses to say anything, too.” His head tilted. “You wouldn’t happen to know a boy named Stewart Steel, would you?”

My knees locked. Violence filtered through me to protect Gio’s little brother.

What the fuck happened to Gio?

Why is this guy representing Stewie?

He was just a kid. He couldn’t be charged with shit like this.

“Why?” I forced between gritted teeth. “What’s that got to do with me? Or you, for that matter?”

He smiled, knowing he’d hooked me.

Bastard.

“I’m representing his older brother. Turns out, Gio Steel was picked up for arson while trying to cover up a robbery. Stewart helped start the fire. It’s a shame really because that kid is impressionable, and I don’t want him to end up where you are.”

You and me both.

“Tell you what.” He clapped his hands. “I’ll tell you everything I know in return for you telling me everything you know. Off the record, of course. Complete confidentiality. Tell me why Gio told me to talk to you. Why he seems to think there’s some conspiracy going on and why he’s begging me to take care of Stewie until you’re released, so you can take care of him yourself. Help me help you, Mr. Everett, and we’ll see where this road takes us.”