It seemed like years ago since Penn had pulled that particular lie over my father and everyone at the office, but for the first time, I found it convenient rather than a nuisance.
He scrubbed his face. “Are you sure about that? I’ve been having doubts about you two. It happened too fast, Elle. After what just occurred with Greg and now court dates and testimonies—I don’t want you getting stressed out.”
“Me?” My voice rose with a perfectly curled question mark. “Me get stressed? What about you? Are you taking the meds your doctor prescribed? I don’t think you should even be at the office. I have things under control.”
All right, that lie was obvious and entirely hollow.
I wasn’t coping. I didn’t have things under control. Mainly because I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting to Penn and Nameless and Penn and prison.
Penn, Penn, Penn.
It was a vicious circle and not one I could stop.
“Don’t you worry about me.” He took my hand, pulling me forward to pat it dotingly. “You were kidnapped by a man who’s been a part of our family for years. You won’t tell me what happened in the cabin. All you’ll say on the matter is that Penn saved you, but then Greg filed charges.” He scowled. “There’s more to that story, Elle, and I don’t like you keeping things from me. Why did you go see Greg in the hospital if he hurt you?”
I sighed heavily. “I’m not keeping things from you, but I am going to keep fighting for Penn. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Ah, yes, about that.” His face fell even further, resembling an unhappy hound. “You can’t be seen visiting inmates, Elle. You have a reputation to maintain. Our company as a whole has to do what it can to stay on the right side of the law with no controversy.”
I laughed a little. “Don’t you think Greg already caused controversy? No matter how we keep that under wraps, details will get elaborated and the story will snowball on its own. The best way to deal with the media is to grant an interview asking for understanding and give them the hard truth, so false rumors don’t destroy everything we’ve created.”
Dad blanched. “You can’t be serious. The right thing to do is stay away from those vultures and just let it die a natural death.” He paused before saying with fatherly authority. “Just like I don’t want you seeing Penn again.”
I gasped. “How can you say that? You liked him. You gave him your blessing to marry me even when I was telling you it was fake.”
“So your engagement is fake?” His features lit up. “Well, in that case, I believe you now. That means you don’t have to do anything reckless when it comes to—”
“Dad...” I shook my head with disappointment. “You don’t get it. It started off fake, but it turns out he’s—”
The man from Central Park.
The words dangled on my tongue, clinging with little claws to stay unsaid. I swayed between delivering them and swallowing them back.
For three years, Dad did everything he could to stop me from looking for Nameless (after he’d been cooperative at the start). When my hunt for him started to interfere with my work, Dad swiftly put a stop to it.
This time, I wouldn’t give him any more reason to block my helping Penn.
Dad had an obsessive desire to keep Belle Elle and me away from less than satisfactory circumstances—including people.
Only, he didn’t understand that no one was perfect. He wasn’t. I wasn’t. The world wasn’t. Penn was no different, and he deserved every chance to prove he was more than just a liar and reveal the truth.
He’s special.
To me. To my life. To my future.
I wouldn’t jeopardize that for anyone.
Including my father.
“He’s what?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Finish that sentence.”
“He’s on his own, Dad. Sure, he has Larry fighting for him, but I want to be there, too. I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I’m not going to stop.”
He slid off my desk, crossing his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be there for him, Elle. I’m not trying to be cruel by cutting him off from emotional support. But sometimes, other things take paramount. I’m thinking of the company. It’s not good PR.”
“Well, we’ll hire a team to reinvent our image after it’s over.”
“Over?”
I nodded. “Yes, Penn will be given a court date soon, and we can finally get the truth out. Then he’ll be released, and it will be over.”
“How long do you think that will take?”
I shrugged. “It depends on the justice system.”
I sounded so much more knowledgeable than I was.
The way he gnawed his bottom lip gave me an idea. “You know...you could help speed this process along, if you wanted.”
“I can? How?” He narrowed his eyes warily.
“By calling your judge friend. Put in a good word. Get a court date, sooner rather than later, so we can all move on with our lives.”
“You want me to tamper with courts and trials now, Elle?” He looked at the ceiling. “What’s become of you?”
“The need to fix everything I did wrong.”
His look was quizzical, but he didn’t ask for a structured explanation of my cryptic reply.
Instead, he kissed the top of my head. “Oh, very well. If it means this will all blow over faster, I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Penn
THE AMBUSH HAPPENED four days later in the recreational yard.
Three men stopped me mid-jog.
After doing my best to come up with a counter attack, I gave up. I had no weapons, no friends to back me up.
I was on my own. And unless I wanted to die in retaliation, I had to let it happen.
So I did.
No matter how much it fucked me off.
Their fists gave me an unwanted ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ rough up. Their feet delivered a well-heard ‘this is our turf, so don’t get any fucking ideas’ kick. Their growls told me exactly how to toe the line and behave.
They seemed to know where a dead zone existed in the security cameras on the jogging track. They didn’t hesitate to gift a beating that activated old injuries, memories, and wounds from my past.
The punch-up only lasted a few seconds, but they knew how to deliver pain.
And I knew how to listen to their message.
I let them get in a few good strikes then exploded and delivered a few myself. I’d let them put me in my place because it meant I wouldn’t be harassed further. But I wouldn’t be a fucking pussy because that was just the start of a worse war.
The tightrope to walk was so damn narrow, but I’d walked it before. I could walk it now.
They were the shit in here. Not me. They thought they’d disciplined me. They hadn’t. Everyone went away slightly happier and settled.
Even if I limped rather than stalked and their punches activated old injuries from Greg’s morning wake-up call the day he took Elle.
I gave up running for the rest of the afternoon and sat on the bleachers tending to a busted lip and bloody nose.