“David, tell them to let him go.” Elle whirled toward him, looking to him to fix this. He might’ve stopped Elle from being arrested three years ago, but he hadn’t done it for me then, and he wouldn’t do it for me now.
His jaw tightened, his dark skin hiding stress and anger better than Elle’s pale complexion as he moved to her side. He didn’t touch her. Professional until the end. “Greg woke up and pressed charges. Mr. Everett hurt him. He’ll have to suffer the consequences.”
Elle growled, “Greg kidnapped me. He was seconds away from raping me. Penn stopped him.”
The officer with red hair mumbled, “Greg will be taken in for questioning, too, once he’s been cleared at the hospital.”
“Hospital?” Elle threw her hands up. “Are you kidding me? He’ll have a few bruises. He’s over-acting the entire thing.”
The office shook his head. “Reports of a bruised larynx and broken ribs have been confirmed by the doctors. It’s a serious matter, Ms. Charlston, and both parties will be dealt with.”
At least I’d hurt him.
He deserved to be in pain.
The rookie sidled up to Elle. My hackles rose as she said, “When you’ve returned home and eh, recuperated.” She looked at the state of Elle’s undress. “You’re required to come to the station to submit your statement about how Greg Hobson took you, what his intentions were in the cabin, and any outstanding issues we need to be aware of.”
Elle spasmed with anger. “I can tell you all that right now. In exchange for letting Mr. Everett go.”
I chuckled. “Come on, Elle. You know from experience they won’t do that. Just leave me like you did the first time.”
Her hands wedged in her stomach as if I’d physically hit her. “Do you think I’m that heartless?” She moved closer, dragging my gaze to her perfect body and just how fucking much I suffered when it came to her. Love her. Hate her. Adore her. Abhor her. I could never win.
Because I wasn’t telling the truth.
The truth was I’d never felt like this for anyone.
Ever.
I’m in love with you, you chocolate-kissing, night time stealing, gorgeous girl. And I’m pissed as hell about it.
My shoulders straightened. I would never tell her because she hadn’t earned my truth. The only person who had was Larry.
Fuck, Larry.
I had to talk to him the moment I was allowed a phone call.
The ginger officer guided me toward the stairs. “Time to go.”
“Penn, please!” Elle wrung her hands. “I believe you. Don’t punish me for fearing the worst.”
Was it wrong of me to want her to hurt just a little? To make her feel how awful it was not to have someone trust you.
Tears brimmed in her blue eyes, begging me to relieve that hurt.
I cursed her. But I couldn’t let her suffer.
Tugging against the cop’s pressure, I said, “Go into the kitchen. Above the fridge is a safe deposit box. Combination is 0619—19thof June.”
Elle half-gasped, half-sobbed.
Before she could say anything, I added, “Inside, you’ll find things that will answer some of your questions, but you’ll also find my emergency details. Call Larry Barns.”
“All right, enough chitchat.” The officer pushed me.
My feet descended the stairs. “Tell him I need his services again. Tell him I know I fucked up but he better come.”
Elle nodded, her hands grasping the banister as she stayed on my floor, and I slowly headed below. “Can you say it out loud? Admit what happened between us that night. Please...I need to hear that, Penn...”
Even now, she still had a splinter of doubt puncturing her trust.
Fuck, that hurts.
I smiled harshly. “The fact that you have to ask is all the answer I’ll give you.” I glanced down, judging how many steps to go. How many steps before I was trapped behind barbwire and bars again.
Tears welled in her gaze. “So you are Nameless?”
I shrugged. “I’ve never been called Nameless. But if you’re asking who I am? How can I tell you? How can I make you see what you don’t want to see?”
“But I do want to see. I’ve been dying to see for three years. I’ve been trying to find you, Penn. I—”
“Stop, Elle.” I didn’t want to hear her declarations of hardship. Of the occasional half-hearted search while she lived in her crystal tower and I rotted in a cell.
We reached the landing, ready to turn and vanish from Elle’s line of sight. I gave her all I could. I finally admitted my truth. “I can’t tell you who I am because I never told you my name. I could give you any name, and you would never know it was real because you never knew me.”
The officers prodded me. “Get going.”
I ignored them. “All you need to know is how I made you feel. What did you feel when I kissed you on that baseball field? How did you feel when I gave you the only food I’d had in days? How did you feel when you walked away from me and didn’t look back?”
Her tears broke her disciplined wall, turning from sorrow to sob. “God, I felt something huge, something I’d never felt before. I fell for you when I didn’t even know what that was.” She whirled down a few steps, only for David to stop her from chasing me. “Penn, I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Her apology didn’t fade the pain I’d carried for so long.
I sighed sadly. “Glad to know it wasn’t just one of us who fell that night.”
The rookie shoved me forward.
I didn’t look back.
Just like she hadn’t three years ago.
Chapter Fifteen
Elle
APARTMENT HALLWAYS HAD a habit of causing damage to furniture edges and being scuffed by human traffic, but I never thought it had the power to hurt knees and palms.
Until I slammed to all fours under the colossal weight of despair.
“I can’t tell you who I am because I never told you my name.”
How many words in that single sentence? How heavy the truth in that string of confession? Enough to steal the remaining energy in my limbs and throw me headfirst into faintness.
I wasn’t a woman anymore. I was sharp breaths, swirling thoughts, and lost bearings. Falling forward as if in prayer, begging the world for a better answer delivered in a kinder way, I pleaded for a do-over.
I’d dreamed of finding Nameless. I’d had fantasies of loving him, saving him, proving to myself that what I’d felt that night wasn’t some silly teenage fling but the start of something raw and terrible and utterly undeniable.
But that was before he’d looked at me with pain so deep-seated, so long lived with, he couldn’t stop the flash of disgust in his eyes.
He blamed me.
He blamed me for not finding him, for not doing exactly what I’d promised myself I’d do and didn’t.
Oh, God.
I hugged my waist, ignoring the bruises from Greg and focusing on the bruises on my heart. I needed to touch him, promise him that I believed now. That I trusted now.
But how flimsy was that?
How awful of me to doubt and accuse, unable to see that my wishes had come true and I’d done nothing but fight against him since he came for me.
To finally find Nameless.