The officer stepped aside and then there he was.
The man I no longer understood or knew. The man who held the life of another in his rotten little paws.
“Five minutes,” the officer said, dragging a hand through his short blond hair.
“Five minutes is all I need.” Turning the doorknob, I looked back at David.
He ground his teeth, his head slightly cocked. “I’d ask if you wanted me to join you. But I think I already know the answer.”
“You do.” I patted his arm. “I want to be alone with him.”
He scowled but accepted it. “Scream if you need me.”
I laughed under my breath. “Got it.”
Inhaling deep, I pushed the door and traded the sharp smell of disinfectant and giggles of nurses for the more subtle smell of a man I’d grown up with hidden beneath medicine and bleach.
Sudden gratefulness filled me. The last time I was in the hospital was to stay vigil at my father’s bedside while he recovered from his heart attack. We’d walked out together, and I wouldn’t be here today visiting Greg if it wasn’t for him.
I’d called the police station and asked for a meeting but had been laughed off the phone.
I’d asked Larry to arrange it—believing he’d have contacts that would make it easy—but he had no jurisdiction over a felon who wasn’t his client.
That left me near tears and furious when Dad walked in to bid me goodnight. I’d spilled my frustrations, and he’d mentioned he’d ask one of his friends to see if he could help.
Up until this morning, I had no hope that anything would come of it.
But the minute I walked wearily into my office, Dad had announced I had a meeting arranged thanks to Patrick Blake.
I hadn’t managed to spend much time with Dad since my reassurance and the many hugs after my abduction, but I squeezed him so damn hard when he gave me the news.
Apparently, Patrick Blake—fishing buddy and fellow golf enthusiast—was actually a judge.
Belle Elle hadn’t been free of its own lawsuits and court appearances over the last few decades and thankfully, Dad had befriended a few people along the way.
He fished with a high judge. He played golf with a district attorney. He had friends who had held his hand while grabby people tried to sue for ridiculous things like incorrect sizes offending their snowflake personalities.
He hadn’t once asked for favoritism or help fighting such claims. But for me, he’d requested approval and managed to give me the five minutes I needed to try and save Penn’s life.
Not that I told him it was for Penn.
He would’ve said no.
He’d approved of Penn before this nightmare, and I hoped he’d stand by him while incorrectly incarcerated for something as noble as saving me. However, what he wouldn’t approve of was Penn’s prior convictions or his unsavory background.
He was a good man, my father, but a snob through and through. Only the best of the best could marry his daughter and run Belle Elle. Which was hypocritical when he put so much energy into getting me together with Greg, only for him to be the worst of all.
Greg opened his eyes as I shut the door with a harsh slap, getting his attention.
“Shit...Elle?” He sat higher in bed, shuffling against the mountain of white pillows, his skin rosy with health not white with sickness. “Came to visit. You love me after all, huh?”
His smirk made me rage.
I hated that he was here being pampered while Penn was in jail going through who knew what.
My hands curled, holding back my temper. “Shut up, Greg.”
His forehead furrowed. For a moment, it looked like he’d retaliate and a small frisson of fear bolted into my legs remembering how it felt to be washed unwanted by him. To be naked in front of him. Cook for him. Such normal things but it left a terrible taste in my mouth that could never be washed away by mint toothpaste.
He’s a creep. Nothing more.
Stalking toward the bed in my high black heels, I stopped close enough to glower but far enough not to touch.
My eyes fell on his wrist on top of the starched sheets. A silver handcuff attached him to the steel frame of the bed.
That was karma. A few days ago, I was the one in cuffs. Now, he had the joy.
I smiled before I could school myself to be cold and aloof. “I see it’s your turn to be imprisoned.”
He bared his teeth. “It won’t stick. I’ll get a good lawyer. I’ll—”
I held up my hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any more of your delusions, Greg.” Before he could launch into another tirade, I said, “I’m here for one thing and one thing only.”
His eyebrow rose, his body relaxing into a flirt. “Oh, yeah?” His gaze traveled over me. “Come to finish what we started?”
I hid my shudder. He wasn’t worth my retaliation. “Withdraw your statement about Penn.”
“What?” His green eyes flashed with surprise then darkened with anger. “No way. Look what that bastard did to me.” He raised an arm, showing a few bruises. “He fucking broke me.”
“I see nothing but a spoiled brat milking a stay in the hospital before he goes to jail.”
He froze. “I’m not going to jail, Elle.”
“I say otherwise.”
The metal handcuff jingled on the bed frame as he shifted again—uncertain but still trying to dominate the situation. “He broke my ribs and bruised my throat. I’ve had a headache since—”
“Oh, spare me, Greg.” I waved a hand at his prone body. “All I see is a boy who never grew up. You’re an adult. You have to take responsibility for the things you’ve done and the people you’ve hurt.”
Moving closer toward the bed, I growled, “I won’t ask again. Revoke your statement about Penn. Drop the charges.”
“Why the fuck would I?”
“Why?” I bared my teeth. “Because you kidnapped me, tried to rape me, and attempted to steal my company. Yet here I am being civil to you, asking you politely to be the bigger man and let Penn go.”
His face turned nasty. “He’s not going anywhere.”
My skin crawled, fighting quicksand—a losing battle. Why did I think I could come here and negotiate with Greg like he was a sane, logical thinking adult?
He wasn’t. He had a screw loose or ten.
Fine, you leave me no choice.
Looking over my shoulder at the door, I moved closer. Close enough that he could touch me if he wanted but close enough to hurt him if I did. “Drop the charges.”
“Fuck off, Elle. If I can’t have you, no one can—including that asshole.”
I didn’t respond, focusing on my task. “Drop the charges or else.” My voice mimicked a general giving the orders on a firing line.
“Or else?” He laughed. “Who are you trying to be? A CEO who actually has the balls to threaten?”
“I’m being myself. And I do have the balls to threaten.” I held up my finger. “I will ruin you—”
The door cracked open, followed by David’s command, “Ms. Charlston, step back. You have two minutes remaining, according to our friend out here.”