Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(40)

Fate had been so generous and kind to me. It had been an absolute bitch to Penn.

How can I make it right?

Once again, I had dreams of protecting him, cooking for him, caring for him the way I knew he would care for me if only he could forgive my doubting.

Sage waltzed over my desk, sprawling on her side on my notepad, unapologetically asking for cuddles while my mind whirled.

Automatically, my fingers sank into her soft fur. I blinked at my office in Belle Elle’s tower, returning to the present rather than dwindling on awful, awful imaginings of what Penn was going through.

“Yes,” Larry said. “The previous times he was arrested.” Something banged as if he’d closed a desk drawer. “For example, the night in Central Park—when he was with you.”

I froze. “What about it?”

“He was sentenced to eight years for aggravated robbery, armed assault, and attempted rape.”

“But that’s a lie!”

“Doesn’t matter. He had no one to fight for him then. Neither did he have support when he was first arrested and held in an adult penitentiary, even though he was a minor. He didn’t commit the crime, but he paid—purely because of bad luck and similar facial features to another.”

My mind cartwheeled, growing dizzy. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, Elle, the first time he served thirteen months and was out early for good behavior. The state didn’t ask him if he had a home to go to, family to see, or a job to earn a living. They just kicked him out with nothing—not even the lint from his pockets because he didn’t have any lint when they’d arrested him.”

“That’s...awful.” I didn’t want to hear anymore.

Tears wobbled in my gaze, making my office dance and Sage turn into a gray blob. Belle Elle suddenly wasn’t a tower of servitude but a pillar of strength. This was my core asset. This company had made me rich and powerful.

It’s time I used that wealth in other ways—freeing innocent men ways.

Larry chuckled with pride. “He made do. He’s a resourceful lad. He stole—he’s not innocent on that account—but he only did it to survive. The second charge was betrayal by a so-called friend and the result of bad luck, bad timing. He got time for theft and for knocking out the house owner and molesting his wife.”

I gasped. “That can’t be true. He would never—”

“Of course, he wouldn’t,” Larry snapped. “He was framed.”

My fingers tightened on my phone, falling more into the tangled tale of Penn’s past. “How?”

“Penn happened to be walking back to his current bed for the night when he saw his so-called friend entering the house in question. He followed. Tried to talk some sense into him, only for the wife to get confused and think it was Penn who’d touched her and the man to wake up groggy and brain-bruised and accuse him. The real perp had run before the police arrived. By the time Penn was processed, he had heard the news and personally oversaw Penn’s arrest. By that point, it was too late.”

Chills scattered down my spine. “He?”

Larry made a hate-thick noise in the back of his throat. “Arnold Twig.”

The name alone made me shudder with anger and the need to scratch out his eyes for being the cause of Penn’s misfortune. “And who is Arnold Twig?”

“Sean Twig’s father. Penn’s nightmare.”

*

I couldn’t stop replaying the strange conversation over and over.

Larry had been forthcoming but cryptic at the same time.

How had this Arnold Twig got away with framing Penn?

Why had nothing been done about it?

Why hadn’t Penn himself been a whistleblower and shouted to the world what had happened?

Why had I never been contacted to testify about the rape and assault charge the night he was stolen from me?

The man in the hoodie from the alley had honor and backbone. He didn’t let me get raped because he morally had to help. That strong ethic code would stand up for himself, too, surely?

With my questions keeping me constant company, the day passed like all the others.

But it didn’t feel like the others.

It was different.

Strange.

However, the calendar hadn’t changed.

I had.

The second I’d wandered into Belle Elle after heading downtown with David and Dad to answer police questions and provide my statement about Greg, I’d had no mental capacity to work.

Even Fleur had frozen in shock and demanded to know what I was doing there.

I’d given her the socially acceptable response that I was head of this empire and I’d already had a few days away. I wouldn’t miss more.

That was a lie.

The real reason was I couldn’t sit at home on my own anymore. I couldn’t raid Penn’s safety deposit box and stare at the handsome passport photo of a slightly younger man with aged wisdom and persecution in his gaze.

The same prettiness that had beguiled me now broke my heart that I couldn’t pick up a phone and call him or knock on his door and hug him.

He was untouchable, unreachable, and it hurt so damn much.

The only good thing was the knowledge that Greg had been questioned. He was under arrest pending discharge from the hospital. On the flip side, Greg had submitted his own statement about Penn’s treatment and wanted him punished to the fullest extent possible.