THRONE OF TRUTH
by
New York Times Bestseller
Pepper Winters
Throne of Truth
Copyright © 2017 Pepper Winters
Published by Pepper Winters
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Published: Pepper Winters 2017:
[email protected] Cover Design: by Cover it! Designs
Editing by: Editing-4-Indies (Jenny Sims)
OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS
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Contents
THRONE OF TRUTH
OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS
Throne of Truth Blurb
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Letter from Penn
Letter from Elle
Chapter Thirty-Four
Letter from Elle
Letter from Penn
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Throne of Truth Blurb
TWO YEARS
Since my life changed for the second time and not necessarily for the better. Two years since I traded prison bars for streets and hunted a runaway who I’d met in an alley.
TWO DAYS
Since I forgot how to lie, woke to fists, and chased after the girl who’d been stolen from me.
TWO HOURS
To save her, rescue her, keep my lies intact. She looks at me full of hate. I look at her full of confession.
TWO MINUTES
For our relationship to switch from mutual dislike to floundering with unknowns. I’ve hurt her. Now, she’s hurt me. I guess we’re even.
TWO SECONDS
For her to listen, to see, to finally know who I am. The answer comes with hardship. The answer isn’t what she wants to hear.
TWO BREATHS
For me to walk out the door.
TWO HEARTBEATS
For it all to be over.
Dedication
To every person I’ve ever had the honor of meeting, talking to online, passing in the street, or looking up to. We might have met for a second, but it’s those seconds that make me who I am.
Prologue
Penn
LIES.
They have a life of their own. They multiply, divide, and conquer—not just the listener but the liar, too. They infiltrate the truth. They twist words until false is truer than reality.
I should know. I’d become a master at them.
For a while, lies had been my saving grace. They’d kept me warm on the coldest nights and kept me sheltered when only darkness remained, but now, I have wealth and family, and my lies aren’t giving me power anymore...they’re stripping me of it.
Stripping me of her.
She ran away from me.
She ran before I could tell her the truth.
It didn’t matter the truth wasn’t what she wanted to hear. It didn’t matter I had
so many confessions and only the guts to reveal a few.
She ran.
And then she vanished.
Chapter One
Elle
“GET OUT OF the fucking car, Elle.”
I cocked my chin, glowering out the window.
Get out of my life, Greg.
The slur scalded my tongue, but I didn’t have the balls to say it. My cheek still hurt. Fear still sliced my insides. The view outside the car was foreign and unwanted.
I was kidnapped, hurt, and pissed off.
I hate you, Greg.
I’ll make you pay, Greg.
My lips pulled into a sneer of contempt.
You won’t win, Greg.
“Elle!” He thumped the roof of his graphite Porsche for the third time. The rattle shook the interior, making me flinch. I’d done well for most of the journey.
He’d prattled on while miles slowly crept between me and my home. I’d remained stoic and deathly silent—I didn’t wince when he shouted for a response and didn’t cower when he raised his hand in threat.
I refused to let him affect me, even though I couldn’t ignore my body’s discomfort anymore. My bound hands were numb from the twine around my wrists. My shoulders screamed for mercy, and my butt was flat from the long drive.
For five hours, I’d tried to come up with a plan to either talk Greg out of whatever manic idea he’d concocted or figure out a way to incapacitate him.
My mind kept me entertained with images of knocking him out, leaving him tied to a tree, and stealing his car. I’d drive myself back to New York. It didn’t matter I hadn’t driven since I got my license—all David’s fault for driving me everywhere. It didn’t matter I barely knew how to operate a standard rather than an automatic gearshift. And it definitely didn’t matter I had no idea how to knock out a full-grown male with my hands tied behind my back.
I would do whatever it took to get free from this lunatic who I’d been raised with.
Starting with refusing to cooperate.
“Elle...” Greg growled, thumping the car one last time before ducking to shove his face into mine. The night sky bled with shadows and gloomy clouds. Not one star; no sliver of moon. It was as if we existed in a dead end while the roads of the world were back at a U-turn somewhere.
“I won’t ask again.”
I forced every inch of authority I could into my glare. “I don’t want to be here, Greg. Take me home.”
He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Too fucking bad. We’re here. Now get.”
I didn’t let him undermine me. I didn’t let him see my fear or frustration. “I’m not getting out of the car because you’re driving me home. Right now.”
“Oh, I am, am I?” He laughed harder, this time with a sinister echo. “That’s what you think.” He undid my seat belt and placed his fingers on my thigh. “I’m going to count to five.” He squeezed. Hard. “I suggest you get out before I hit five.”
My heart coughed.
Greg dropped all pretenses and ripped off his mask. He was done masquerading as the boring son of my father’s best friend and my employee. Out here (alone), he showed who he truly was, and I hated him.
I hated him more than I feared him.
But the longer he squeezed my thigh, the stronger my fear grew. I trembled with disobedience, cursing him, wishing the ground would grow teeth and chew him alive.
“One.” He smiled, his fingers climbing up my leg toward my core.
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t let him see how much my skin crawled to have his touch so close to where I vehemently didn’t want him.
“Two.” He crept the final distance, cupping me roughly with a harsh glint in his eyes.
I shivered as he let me go as quickly as he’d grabbed me. His touch slithered upward, stroking my belly, my hip, my waist. “Three.”
I shifted despite myself.
My legs bunched to obey—to climb out on my own willpower to avoid whatever nastiness he had planned. But he wedged himself in the door, not giving me any room to exit.
He knew that.
He nodded slyly, knowing I’d figured out that he’d blocked me. That I didn’t have a choice in what would happen next.
“Four.” His touch switched from my waist to my breast, tweaking a nipple before climbing the rest of the way to my shoulder. His fingers dug into me like barbwire, sharp and steely—ready to rip me apart.
I braced for pain.
I sniffed in retaliation.
Not that it did any good.
“Five.” The grasp he had on my shoulder became a throbbing anchor. Digging his fingernails into my flesh, he yanked with all his energy.
With nothing holding me in the car, I toppled sideways.
I had no way to fight or stop my sideways motion.
I fell out, landing painfully on my shoulder with my legs still in the Porsche and my arms tied behind my back. Sharp gravel dug into my cheek. Wind whooshed from my lungs.
With my face wedged against the ground, I had a perfect view of Greg’s black loafers as he squatted over me. “Well, that’s one success. You’re out of the car.” He nudged me with his toe. “Now, get up.”
I squirmed, wincing as every joint and ligament squealed in pain. My spine hated the way my legs pretzeled above while my shoulders slam-dunked into the earth.
Terror sprouted like weeds in my veins as Greg took a step back. I tensed for a kick or reprimand, but he placed his hands on his hips, waiting.
If I’d climbed out like he’d asked ten minutes ago, I could’ve avoided the shrapnel to my cheek and the new contusions to my body.
You were stupid, Elle.
Was it wise to refuse everything out of principle or obey to save my strength?
I knew the answer even though I hated it.
Doing my best to stifle my moan, I slowly unhooked my ankles from the Porsche and wiggled forward to give my legs room to drop down. Slowly, achingly, I figured out how to slide sideways and push off the ground with my hands behind my back—granting just enough leverage to sit upright.
It took a while, but the moment I sat up, Greg clapped condescendingly. “Finally, you listen to the boss.”
I spat out a mouthful of acrid dust. “You’re not my boss.”
“Wrong, Elle. I am. You’ve been in charge for far too fucking long. Things are gonna be different now.”
I clamped my lips together. I wouldn’t antagonize him further. He was delusional. There was nothing I could say to a crazy person. Let him think he was my commander. I’d correct him when he was in jail.
We held a staring war like children until I cocked my chin and ignored him.
He didn’t speak as I navigated my sore body into movement.
It took a few minutes to figure out how to shuffle my legs beneath me and push off on numb tingling feet to trade driveway for standing, but I managed.
The second I succeeded, Greg captured my elbow. “About time you got up.” Pulling me toward a large cabin resting on the boundary of a dense forest, he added, “Wasting my time, Elle. Gonna pay for that.”
“You could’ve helped me. Better yet, you could take me home.”
He chuckled. “Funny girl.”
The cabin reeked of disappearing CEOs and illegal activity. In any other situation, the cute windows with yellow and brown trim would’ve made any guest feel welcome. In this situation—when I’d been stolen against my will—it was a coffin I had no desire to enter.
Every inch of me did not (with a thousand did nots) want to go into that place. But I was tired, hungry, and emotionally wrung dry. My head still throbbed from his punch at my apartment, and my heart still panged for the lies Penn had told. The glittery blue of my sapphire star dangled in my mind, destroying Penn’s fibs over and over again.
Where had that necklace come from?
Was it true Penn was Baseball Cap or Adidas?
Regardless of the truth, I knew one thing for sure.
All men are assholes.
And unless my father or David could figure out where Greg had taken me, I was on my own.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Greg and his pompous face. Everything about him irritated me to the point of sheer rage.
He’s a moron.
A moron who can kill me with no one here to stop him.
Despite running from Penn and cursing him forever, I wouldn’t be opposed to him hunting and freeing me. He was the lesser of the two evils tonight.
Climbing the porch steps, our footsteps echoed on a stained wooden deck, weathered with a stylish décor.
Greg let me go, fumbling in his pockets for a key.
I didn’t run off or try to bolt into the forest.
My hands were still tied, and I had no idea where I was. I’d never been good at hikes in school and would rather deal with Greg than a bear in the wilderness while incapacitated.
I kept my voice icy. “Where are we?”
Greg grinned as he slotted a key into the antique looking lock. “My father’s cabin.”
I vaguely remembered Steve bragging about buying a vacation place before I took over Belle Elle. He and Dad had gone away for a weekend to do manly things.
I hadn’t asked what those manly things had entailed.
It’s true. He is a moron.
I blinked, forcing myself not to roll my eyes at Greg’s stupidity.
He’d kidnapped me and taken me to a location that his father knew about.
I wanted to thank the nonexistent stars.
Bless him for his small brain. It would only be a matter of time before the cavalry came for me.
I kept my conclusions to myself, nodding respectfully as Greg opened the door and held it wide for me to enter. He followed, leaving me standing in the foyer as he turned on lights to reveal wooden walls, cathedral ceilings, and timber flooring.
It wasn’t called a log cabin for nothing—every single inch, including the kitchen counter, was made out of sacrificed trees.
It was wood overload with a plaid couch, rustic dining room table, and a window seat that could fit ten children more inclined to read than explore the sinister forest waving its shadowy branches by the windows.
The place was big with hallways leading off to bedrooms and a second lounge down a few steps with a giant log fireplace.
Greg shrugged off his blazer, throwing it haphazardly on the back of the couch. He smiled. “Come here.”