Throne of Truth

That one simple touch made me wet in an instant.

I trembled, eyes hooding. “Please...”

Us was a word connected to love, companionship, and family. Please was a word belonging to a request, a plea—a blatant demand for connection.

I hadn’t meant to moan it.

I didn’t mean to press against his fingers as if he could take away the unbearable desire in my blood with a simple touch.

But he felt too good.

Too real.

Too warm.

Too Penn.

All my remaining questions evaporated as he stroked me again, breathing, “Fuck, I want to kiss you.”

Larry cleared his throat in warning as a guard looked over at us. He didn’t care how passionate or reckless this conversation had become. He allowed Penn to sweep me away and believe for just as second we weren’t in a prison, we weren’t facing separation, we had all the time in the world to talk and build a bridge over the whitewater of our past.

Penn licked his lips as I ran my finger along his.

I completely forgot Larry sat beside me as I moaned, “I’d give anything to kiss you.”

That one piece of honesty allowed the rest to flow unhindered.

We tumbled over each other as I said, “I’m so sorry for not believing in you, Penn. There’s no way you could’ve been anyone else. I hope you can forgive me.”

While he said, “You hurt me, Elle, but fuck if I don’t care anymore. The past few weeks with you...I want more. I want to tell you who I am. All of it.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “You go.”

“No, you.”

We laughed, our hands inching tighter, brushing pinky to thumb.

“Hey!” A guard pointed at us. “No touching.”

I yanked my fingers back but couldn’t swallow my smile. “We’re going to get you out of here. And then we’ll talk.”

“Then we’ll do a shitload more than just talk.” He smirked a little; moving from intense connection to lighthearted joking, a genuine smile breaking his lips. “Going back to my safety deposit box. I always knew you were nosy.”

I laughed softly. “Only where you’re concerned. And only because you never tell me anything.”

“He’ll tell you now, though, won’t you, Penn?” Larry asked, deadly serious, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Just like you’ll tell her the reason why you have Gio’s license is because you’re listed as his next of kin and agreed to keep his possessions safe.”

Larry turned his black-rimmed glasses onto me. “Gio and Penn have become friends thanks to me taking custody of Stewie. It was complicated for a while, but we’re all on the same side now.”

I liked how he barely knew me, but he was on my side as much as he was on Penn’s. I’d never met anyone so unbiased and willing to trust than him.

Penn’s forehead furrowed. “I know that must sound idiotic seeing as Gio hurt you that night and I roughed him up pretty good. But we’ve shared the same upbringing too long to turn away when the other needs help.”

I blinked away the memories of my clothes being torn in the alley. “I agree. Enemies can become friends. Sometimes, they make better friends as you know the worst.”

Penn shrugged. “I suppose.” His features shadowed, thinking of things that left a strain around his eyes. “A couple of years ago, I was your enemy.”

My heart skipped unhappily. I had no idea what he meant. “You were?”

His desire to talk faded. He reclined in his chair, hiding everything I needed to know. “Shit, I have so much to tell you but I can’t do it here.” He kicked the table leg, making it rattle.

A guard pointed at him in warning. “Quit it or you’re back in your cell.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “Plenty of time to talk later. Don’t get yourself riled up.”

Penn raked both hands through his hair. “This place makes me insane.” Stark panic filled his brown gaze. “How long, Larry? How fucking long do I have to keep everything bottled up so I don’t screw myself over even more?”

Larry consulted his notepad, void of scribbles but filled with whatever processes he’d already put in place. “You know I can’t give you a time. I don’t like dangling promises because they hurt like hell when they don’t come true.”

“I know.” Penn sighed. “Fuck.” His shoulders tightened, masking the truth that he was nervous and had no one else to trust but us. Trusting someone and then trusting someone were different things. He had no power over what we did on his behalf. He merely had to let Larry arrange dates and file paperwork while I went after Greg and fought for his assurances that he’d retract his statement and redeem himself by doing the right thing.

It was heartbreaking as well as chilling to play God with another’s life.

Penn gave me a sad smile, wordlessly apologizing for ruining the remaining time we had left.

Larry took over, murmuring about strategy and evidence.

Penn and I never took our eyes off each other. Desperately aching, constantly seeking for a way to erase this mess and be together.

The thirty minutes went far too fast, and it physically killed me when a bell rang and the inmates said farewell.

No hug.

No kiss.

Nothing but a tear-filled grimace as Penn disappeared all over again.

* * * * *

“Ms. Charlston! Over here!”

Stepping out of the correctional facility, I found a sea of reporters, cameras, and microphones angled toward me instead of a clear path leading toward the black Range Rover and my trusty bodyguard.