Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(50)

But then I’d also have two vicious enemies.

Sean was still out there...who the fuck knew what he would do if he learned I was free and ready to start fighting rather than remain the easy scapegoat.

“You didn’t return it to her?” I looked up, fingering the sapphire as if the jewelry could magically transport her to me.

“No.”

Stewie reached for it. “It’s mine. I gotta look after it. Keep it safe.”

It’s not yours.

I held it up, just out of reach. “Do you mind if I borrow it for the night?”

Larry met my eyes over Stewie’s short height. He tilted his head, trying to understand why I wanted to keep something so unusual and unimportant to me.

But he was wrong. It was important. So fucking important.

I wouldn’t say it out loud. I wouldn’t admit that the plan to head to bed and sleep safely for the first time in forever had been put on hold for a few more hours.

But somehow, he knew.

He smiled, full of secrets as if he’d stolen mine and made them his own.

I’d told him a little about Elle. It’d been a mistake. I’d been down one day and didn’t want to talk court cases and potential freedom, so he’d brought up girlfriends. I’d snorted and said, of course, I didn’t have one, but then slipped as I mentioned the girl who’d kissed me in Central Park.

The entire story had come out.

Including the saga about the missing sapphire necklace.

“Uh, I dunno.” Stewie chewed on his lip. “I’m not supposed to let it go.”

I ducked to his height. “I know. And I won’t do anything bad with it. I promise.”

The lie burned my tongue, but I loved how easily it came. How swiftly I was able to bullshit. Was that my first real lie? The practice run for the torrent about to come?

Larry moved forward, placing his hand on Stewie’s shoulder. “Let Penn borrow it. He’s heading out, but he’ll be back soon. Won’t you, Penn?” His eyes were serious, intent on hearing my assurance.

How does he know?

“Upper East Side. Number twenty-two on Cherry Avenue.”

I didn’t need to ask who the address was for. Just like he didn’t need to ask what I was about to do.

Not looking at Stewie—unable to see the unwillingness to part with the necklace—I nodded once at Larry. “I’m coming back. I promise.”

“You’d better.” He tipped his glass in a salute. “I’m counting on you to keep that promise.”

“You can trust me, Larry.”

With Elle’s necklace clenched in my fist, I jogged to the front door and disappeared into the night.

*

Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than before.

My heart hit a stop button and hung love-struck in my chest.

Noelle Charlston.

The girl from the alley.

The name seared into my mind thanks to her identification card with the logo of Belle Elle—the largest retail chain in the US.

She thought I hadn’t noticed. That I didn’t believe her when she said she was an office worker at the one place I could never enter without a security guard throwing me out. My wardrobe told them all they needed to know and the fact that the last time I snuck inside I’d taken a nap in the houseware department didn’t help my case.

I found it sexy that Elle worked there. I had fantasies of her working hard, renting a tiny studio, making something of her life while I looked up from squalor below.

I respected her for her tenacity to better herself. I was attracted to her for her lack of confidence or willingness to talk about her life when minimum wage made her so much richer than I was.

I’d become infatuated with her from the start. It turned to an obsessive need to know her the longer we walked back to her home. And when she mentioned it was her birthday, and she wasn’t even out of her teens yet, I had the disgusting desire to be the first to welcome her to adulthood.

I’d taken her to the park to see how far her limits would go. A sheltered little girl out for a thrill. But then she’d agreed to follow me.

To break into the park with me.

To trust me.

Then she fucking kissed me. And I no longer wanted to test her but steal her to be mine forever. I’d lived in pure happiness for an hour out of so many years of loneliness.

That was before the night ended, and I never saw her again.

Until now.

She sat in an overstuffed armchair with a gray cat on her lap, stroking it with languid pets while her shoulders remained tense. Her long blonde hair that I remembered filled with leaves and grass clippings from rolling around on the baseball field, draped over the back of the chair while her eyes locked on the three males in front of her.

Two older, one around her age.

Their lips moved, faces speaking with animation that I couldn’t hear.

The closed windows were air tight; the occasional whir of traffic and murmur of dog walkers meant I couldn’t distinguish any other noise but the city buzz.

The sapphire burned my hand, demanding I knock on the door and give it back. To say ‘hi, do you remember me?’ To kiss her if she’d forgotten and remind her if she hadn’t.

I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt about why she hadn’t come looking for me. Why I’d thought about her for nine long months, but she’d moved on and dismissed me.