Throne of Truth

“He’s strong. He’s been strong on his own for a long time before we came along, Elle. Don’t take it to heart. He’s only doing what’s natural.”

“Natural? Shutting down is natural?”

“It is to him.” Larry sighed. “Think about it from his point of view. For years, he only had himself to rely on. He was hungry? He had to go steal or beg. He was cold? He had to find shelter or come up with a blanket. He was sick? He had to search for medicine or seek a place he could rest unmolested. He couldn’t feel down and let another carry his troubles for a while. He couldn’t hurt himself and expect someone else to feed and clothe him while he got better. It’s a coping mechanism.”

“I understand how it would’ve been imperative to keep his emotions in check when he was homeless, but he has us now. We’ll get him medicine, we’ll find him food, we’ll give him shelter—”

“You don’t get it, Elle,” Larry said softly. “Even though he’s placed his entire trust into our hands—his life and future, and he does believe we’re doing everything we can—he can’t help but expect to spend the rest of his life in there. Twig will try his hardest to make that come true. Greg will testify against him. His own past will throw away the key.”

“But...he can’t shut us out.”

He can’t shut me out. Not now...

“He can, Elle. If that’s what he needs to do to keep himself alive and stay above the severe depression that prisoners succumb to, he can do whatever it takes. We’ll stand by regardless if he’s the confident, slightly egotistical man we’ve come to love or a cold-hearted, standoffish son-of-a-bitch. You can’t give up on him.”

I marched to my desk and threw myself on the chair. “I’m not giving up on him.” My eyes fell onto the screen currently open on my laptop. A web browser I’d brought up this afternoon on a stupid whim.

I hadn’t expected any results...only...

“Wait a minute...” I pulled myself forward, clicking on the link. Information spewed forth, giving me a different kind of hope. If Penn was shutting down, he needed reminding of why he needed to stay very much alive. He needed to be touched, kissed, given the age old cure of a hug.

Guards wouldn’t allow that.

Visitation would only make it worse.

But there was one way.

A smile spread my lips. A sexy, sultry, entirely seductive smile, already imagining how incredible it would be if I could make it happen. “Larry, I have an idea.”

* * * * *

“I can’t believe you talked me into arranging this.” Larry rolled his eyes, but beneath his over-puffed drama, excitement and relief glowed.

He knew as well as I did something had to happen to get Penn back. We needed him with us to continue fighting, and hopefully...I could be the one to remind him of that.

“Sign here.” The prison guard pushed a form toward me. The fine print and pages of disclaimers were enough to put anyone off from signing.

But not me.

I grabbed his crappy pen and scrawled my name.

Honestly? I couldn’t believe this had happened. I hadn’t told Dad, Steve, or even Fleur. The only person who knew about my little quest and tonight’s accommodation was Larry, and even discussing it with him had been nerve wracking.

It had taken two weeks.

Two very long weeks since Larry had given me the contact details of the person I needed to hound and then together, we didn’t stop. Morning, afternoon, evening. Email, call, text, messenger, even tweet.

Over and over, we hounded and hounded until finally, we got an email giving us access with the firm instruction never to contact them again.

Never was a long time—especially if Penn’s court date remained forever locked in the future. But I wouldn’t worry about that now.

We’d won.

We were here.

At eight p.m. on a Wednesday, signing into the jail after visiting hours.

According to the prison roster, all inmates would’ve eaten, enjoyed rec time, and now be in their respective cells ready for lights out. Bedtime was early in this place. Morning alarm was even earlier.

Every man would be most likely stretched out on his cot, reading or passing the time in his imagination.

But not Penn.

Penn would be taken somewhere different. Somewhere he’d probably argue about and wonder why the hell he’d been separated and locked up in an unfamiliar place.

“Do you have all the necessary belongings?” The guard looked at my plastic see-through Hermes that held a change of clothes, my toothbrush, and other nighttime required accessories. The security processing had already x-rayed my things and cleared me.

“Yes, I’m all ready to go.” My voice pitched slightly higher with nerves.

“You’ll collect her first thing tomorrow?” The guard looked at Larry.

Larry gave my shoulder a squeeze as if I was about to go into a cage with a lion to tame it, instead of entering a cage with Penn to seduce him. “Yes, I will. Eight a.m. On the dot.”

Knowing he knew what I’d be doing tonight made me blush, but the experience at having a night alone with Penn made me bounce on the spot.

Thanks to my online research, I’d learned that only four states allowed conjugal visits and one of those states was New York. I also learned that only medium and lesser security prisons permitted them, and were entirely dependent on prisoner behavior. The lesser infractions the inmate had, the better chance of being granted one of three conjugal options: six, twelve, or twenty-four hours.