I’d probably be arrested for touching the defendant.

I’d sat on my fingers, turning my attention from the man who turned my heart molten to Larry.

He’d merely smiled at the judge with his hands crossed politely. “It’s all linked, sir. And I can prove it.”

Goosebumps darted down my spine for the fiftieth time since he’d said that. My mind snapped out of the last few hours in court, slapping me back into the present.

Sitting on plastic seats outside the courtroom, holding a flimsy cup of coffee thanks to Fleur shoving it in my hands, I hoped and prayed that Greg would do the right thing.

I would’ve given anything to speak with him. To find out what his decision was and if Penn would be free or convicted.

There must be a way.

“Court resumes in five minutes.” An employee stuck his head into the hallway where we gathered beneath monolithic arches and portraits of dead judges.

Minglers stood, gathering handbags and finishing coffee dregs.

“Ready?” I smiled bright as Stewie climbed to his feet, shuffling toward the double doors where we’d endure yet more torture while waiting for Penn to be freed.

He shrugged, his eyes large and worried. “I guess so.”

Fleur and I exchanged looks.

My arm found its way over Stewie’s shoulders, hugging him close. “It will all work out. You’ll see.”

He wriggled under my embrace but didn’t push me away. He wore the suit Penn had bought from Belle Elle—a smart little man ready to battle for his friend. “I dunno. Shit happens.”

I didn’t reprimand him for his language.

Because he was right.

We might have every truth and honesty on our side, but at the end of the day...shit happened.

And there was nothing we could do about it.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Penn

SMUG FUCKING BASTARD.

Greg sat next to his zombie of a lawyer, not even bothering to hide his arrogance.

Larry prowled in front, speaking to the court, blocking me from trying to kill Greg with my eyes.

My gaze met Larry’s from the witness stand, remembering this was my time to be cordial and well-spoken, not fuming with fury at the bastard who’d stolen another five months of my life. Five months away from Elle. Five months away from happiness.

Larry interrupted my hate. “In your own words, can you describe that night in question?”

That night.

What night?

Oh yeah, he’d been talking about the charity gala. I sat up straight, glancing at the jury with a soft smile. “Ever since my success, I’ve given what I now have to those who don’t have anything. I know what it’s like to have nothing, and it’s a driving force of mine to give them a chance like another gave one to me.”

I gave Larry a look crammed full of gratitude. It might be years since he’d taken me in, but when I thought about what he’d given me, motherfucking tears almost came to my eyes.

“So the event was your charity?” Larry asked.

“Yes.”

“What is it called?”

Shit.

I glanced at Elle. I hadn’t told her this part. Would she think I was an idiot? I’d gone through so many names for many months. After the penny stock I’d invested in hit an all-time high—going from five cents a share to seventy-five dollars in a matter of months—a majority of the profits were reinvested into the stock, gradually buying more and more until I became the main shareholder of a company that recently got bought out by the CIA for an undisclosed, obscene figure.

After that success, I couldn’t just let the money sit there.

I was set for life.

I might as well help others as well as myself.

I knew I wanted to help people but didn’t have a clue what to call the charity.

I’d discounted the more generic names like Homeless No More. Or Roof Over Your Head. Things that would say what the charity entailed. But the charity wouldn’t have existed without Larry’s faith in me and Elle’s ability to reach into my chest that night and start my heart beating for other things.

Things like her.

Things I could never deserve unless I got my shit together.

I cleared my throat. “It’s called Chocolate Runaway.”

Chocolate for that kiss.

Runaway because if she hadn’t, we would never have met and my life would be so fucking different.

I might not be sitting here on trial, but then again, I might never have gotten free from the last arrest because I wouldn’t have had the gumption to take Larry up on his offer.

I wouldn’t have been ready to fight because I didn’t have anything to fight for. And I definitely wouldn’t have taken him up on his offer to stay in his house and obey his rules. I would’ve run back to the life I knew, not thinking I deserved anything better.

Larry hid his smile. He’d given me such a ribbing when I came home that day with the name registered and proud as fucking punch. I noticed some of the jurors smiling while others rolled their eyes.

My hands curled. “It’s personal. I stand by the name just like I stand by the millions of donations the charity has been able to provide.”

Larry nodded. “It’s an honorable achievement.”

“No, it’s an ongoing dream. Even while I’ve been incorrectly imprisoned, the charity has still run and provided for countless of homeless kids.”

A few jurors looked at each then glared at Greg.

Score one for me.

Larry marched in front of the witness box where I sat. “So that night, you and Elle were happy?”