“SOMETHING’S WRONG, LARRY. I can feel it.”
I pressed my cell-phone hard against my ear as I paced my office. Sage trotted after me with every beeline from my desk to the door. The same door where Penn made me drop to my knees for him. Where he made me come just by pressing against me. Where he’d come the first time and showed me there wouldn’t be any bullshit between us when it came to how much we wanted each other.
Those first weeks of our relationship seemed shallow now—all based on sex and no emotion. I’d allowed him to entrap me in orgasms and pleasure, keeping his truth hidden because I didn’t have the courage to poke behind his lies.
But that was all over now.
Now, I only needed to look at Penn to know how he was feeling. His dark coffee eyes were so expressive; I doubted how I ever listened to his fibs in the first place. The way he held his stress like a boulder across his shoulders, how his jaw never fully relaxed, how his nostrils flared when he answered questions he didn’t like, how his voice pitched into gravel whenever he told me how much he missed me.
His face was an encyclopedia into his heart. It had dictionary references and thesaurus connotations, revealing what an arched eyebrow meant compared to a tongue flicking over his bottom lip.
He’d never come out and said it, but I knew he loved me. I knew it in the way he whispered his thumb over my pinky when the guards weren’t looking. I trusted it in the way he looked into my eyes, so deep, so pure. Whatever words he’d spoken were irrelevant because ultimately, all he’d been saying was I love you.
His face could even swear eloquently. A tip of his chin or scowl of his forehead was the perfect fuck you to the guards who broke us apart.
All this I knew now.
There was nothing shallow about falling head over heels for a man incarcerated where privacy was a none-given luxury, and physical intimacy was denied at all times.
Penn loved me. I loved him.
And that was why I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Larry yawned, causing me to look at my watch. “What’s up, Elle? What’s wrong?”
It was almost midnight, and I still hadn’t left the office. I couldn’t. I was too wired, researching bits and pieces Larry had tasked me with, putting together a well-thought-out and correctly edited document to read in court if and when Penn was given a date.
I quit my pacing, forcing my heart rate to return to sane rather than crazy. “Penn isn’t doing so well.”
That was an understatement.
How could I expect him to be happy and thrive in a place where violence and misdemeanors were the only forms of conversation and habit?
He pretended otherwise, but each time I saw him, he seemed a little more...empty. As if he’d stuffed every feeling he’d had, every love and goodness, and buried it so deep, he was vacant inside.
“You noticed too, huh?” Larry cleared his throat, giving me his full attention. “He’s losing hope.”
“But he can’t lose hope. He has to stay strong.” Tears sprang to my eyes. My emotions these days were haywire—completely uncontrollable. Most likely from lack of sleep, too many things to juggle, the stress of Dad’s frustration and Penn’s distancing, and my own belief that I should be able to fix this and couldn’t.
I’d tried calling the penitentiary where Greg was being held to ask again if he would revoke his statement—but he refused to take my calls. I requested visitation—he denied my name on his list of approved visitors. He blocked me from finding any relief or answers to ‘will he or won’t he’ try to bury Penn alive?
“He’s strong. He’s been strong on his own for a long time before we came along, Elle. Don’t take it to heart. He’s only doing what’s natural.”
“Natural? Shutting down is natural?”
“It is to him.” Larry sighed. “Think about it from his point of view. For years, he only had himself to rely on. He was hungry? He had to go steal or beg. He was cold? He had to find shelter or come up with a blanket. He was sick? He had to search for medicine or seek a place he could rest unmolested. He couldn’t feel down and let another carry his troubles for a while. He couldn’t hurt himself and expect someone else to feed and clothe him while he got better. It’s a coping mechanism.”
“I understand how it would’ve been imperative to keep his emotions in check when he was homeless, but he has us now. We’ll get him medicine, we’ll find him food, we’ll give him shelter—”
“You don’t get it, Elle,” Larry said softly. “Even though he’s placed his entire trust into our hands—his life and future, and he does believe we’re doing everything we can—he can’t help but expect to spend the rest of his life in there. Twig will try his hardest to make that come true. Greg will testify against him. His own past will throw away the key.”
“But...he can’t shut us out.”
He can’t shut me out. Not now...
“He can, Elle. If that’s what he needs to do to keep himself alive and stay above the severe depression that prisoners succumb to, he can do whatever it takes. We’ll stand by regardless if he’s the confident, slightly egotistical man we’ve come to love or a cold-hearted, standoffish son-of-a-bitch. You can’t give up on him.”
I marched to my desk and threw myself on the chair. “I’m not giving up on him.” My eyes fell onto the screen currently open on my laptop. A web browser I’d brought up this afternoon on a stupid whim.
I hadn’t expected any results...only...
“Wait a minute...” I pulled myself forward, clicking on the link. Information spewed forth, giving me a different kind of hope. If Penn was shutting down, he needed reminding of why he needed to stay very much alive. He needed to be touched, kissed, given the age old cure of a hug.
Guards wouldn’t allow that.
Visitation would only make it worse.
But there was one way.
A smile spread my lips. A sexy, sultry, entirely seductive smile, already imagining how incredible it would be if I could make it happen. “Larry, I have an idea.”
*
“I can’t believe you talked me into arranging this.” Larry rolled his eyes, but beneath his over-puffed drama, excitement and relief glowed.
He knew as well as I did something had to happen to get Penn back. We needed him with us to continue fighting, and hopefully...I could be the one to remind him of that.
“Sign here.” The prison guard pushed a form toward me. The fine print and pages of disclaimers were enough to put anyone off from signing.
But not me.
I grabbed his crappy pen and scrawled my name.
Honestly? I couldn’t believe this had happened. I hadn’t told Dad, Steve, or even Fleur. The only person who knew about my little quest and tonight’s accommodation was Larry, and even discussing it with him had been nerve wracking.