Throne of Truth

  “No, it’s an ongoing dream. Even while I’ve been incorrectly imprisoned, the charity has still run and provided for countless of homeless kids.”

  A few jurors looked at each then glared at Greg.

  Score one for me.

  Larry marched in front of the witness box where I sat. “So that night, you and Elle were happy?”

  Goddammit, I wanted to skip over this part.

  It wouldn’t exactly paint me in a good light, but Larry had told me to trust him, so I did. “Not exactly.” Inhaling, I said loudly, “I’d lied to her. I’d entered into a relationship with her all while letting her believe I was a businessman with no ties to her past. She didn’t know I was the homeless man who’d rescued her from two attackers three years ago. I lied because I was hurt that she hadn’t come for me. I was pissed off because I’d developed feelings for her and thought she didn’t feel the same way.”

  “What way is that?”

  “In love.”

  The jury shuffled.

  I kept my eyes averted. Right now, I sounded like a fucking pussy. Greg chuckled while the judge hammered his gavel. “What link does this questioning have to the case in point, Mr. Barns?”

  Larry stormed to the judge, craning his neck. “It’s introducing the accused, so the jury can make a better informed decision, your honor.”

  For a second, I thought he’d overrule, but he reluctantly nodded. “Get on with it.”

  “Thank you.” Larry returned to me. “So that night in question, Ms. Charlston thought she’d figured out who you were and left before you could explain she’d concluded wrong?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you chased after her?”

  “I did.”

  “Only she didn’t answer her door or phone, correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And you gave her some space as you believed she was upset with you?”

  “It wasn’t easy, but yes, that was my reasoning.”

  Larry nodded importantly. “However, you changed your opinions a little later that night, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” I glowered at Greg. “I woke to being beaten by two men Mr. Hobson had paid off to scare me away from Elle. They said she was with him now and to back off.”

  “And was she with him?” Larry asked.

  “No. She’d confided in me that she didn’t want anything to do with him.”

  Larry headed to his desk and collected photos of the day I was placed in custody. Sharing them with the jury, he said, “These are photos of Penn’s condition received by Greg’s courtesy.”

  “Incorrect evidence.” Greg’s lawyer stood up, planting her hands on the table. “Those injuries were given by Greg as he fought for his life while Penn tried to murder him.”

  The judge looked between the two lawyers. “Is that true?”

  Larry shook his head. “No, your honor. I’m sure a few scratches were from the fight, but the majority were from being beaten awake hours earlier. I have doctors reports stating how long the contusions and bruises needed to form and discolor.”

  He picked up another piece of paper and handed it to the judge. “In his opinion, the discoloration on Penn’s ribs, face, and other limbs were six to ten hours old before he had a chance to detain Mr. Hobson.”

  The judge accepted the evidence with a nod.

  Larry turned to me. “In your own words, Mr. Everett, can you describe what happened when you found Mr. Hobson?”

  “With pleasure.” I bared my teeth. “Ms. Charlston was in chains. He had her bent over a couch about to rape her.”

  “Not true!” Greg blurted. “She’d just agreed to go to the bedroom with me.”

  “She knew I was sneaking up behind you, you fool!” I replied before the judge could yell for us to shut the hell up. “She used misdirection so I could incapacitate you.”

  “Silence!” Patrick Blake commanded. “Another outburst and you’ll both be thrown back in the cells.”

  Greg crossed his arms, slouching like a pissed off child.

  I sat taller, embracing fearlessness because I’d done the right thing. I wasn’t the one lying.

  For a change.

  “So you don’t deny you touched Mr. Hobson?” Larry waited patiently, his eyebrow rose.

  I knew the answer he wanted. What we’d schooled over. ‘Yes, I did. But only what was necessary to release Ms. Charlston and put Greg under citizen’s arrest.’

  But I was done being polite. I wouldn’t waste any more time. I’d tell the truth but in my own words, not his. “I didn’t just touch him. I punched him. Multiple times.”

  The court gasped as one.

  I turned my vision to the jury. “He hurt my girl. He was about to rape my girl. I wasn’t going to have a conversation with him and ask politely if he’d stop abusing her. How many of you would have done that, instead of attacking the asshole who hurt your loved one?”

  The jurors broke silence, muttering loudly amongst themselves. The reporters in the back pews started asking questions, adding to the mayhem.

  Court propriety broke down.

  The judge hammered his gavel. “Enough! Quiet down. All of you!”

  Greg stood up, adding to the mix. “He’s lying. She was mine. She loves me. Don’t listen—”

  “Enough!” the court officer bellowed.

  A fight broke out between two jurors for reasons unknown but most likely had something to do with my question about what they would do and their mixed opinions on the matter.

  “Quiet!” Judge Blake boomed.

  The chaos only grew worse.

  Desperate for order, he yelled, “Right, court adjourned. Reconvene tomorrow. Go home. All of you!”

  And just like that, my time in the limelight was over.

  Back to prison I go.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Elle

  LARRY AND I stood on the steps of the courthouse.

  Fleur waited ahead with Stewie, bribing his attention with a stick of chewing gum.

  I’d asked her to. I needed Larry on his own because I had a plan.

  After the disaster in the courtroom, I couldn’t leave things to chance anymore. I couldn’t let my heart gallop and my stomach sizzle with fear that Greg would be utterly vindictive and testify against Penn with every viciousness he had in him.

  I couldn’t watch Penn be handcuffed and marched back to prison like this afternoon. I couldn’t survive with one conjugal visit a year and weekly phone calls.

  Penn was innocent.

  Greg was wrong.

  He had to be stopped.

  Threats wouldn’t work.

  But I knew something that would.

  “You have to get me a meeting with him, Larry. Tonight.”

  Larry slammed to a stop. “Penn? No can do. He’ll be under lock-down now.”

  “No, not him. Greg.”

  His eyebrows disappeared into his salt and pepper hair. “What?”

  “I want to speak to Greg.”

  “I don’t—” He pursed his lips. “Why?”

  “I need to try something. Before his turn to testify tomorrow.”

  Soon, it would be my turn to testify against Greg. I still had that trump card over him, but I doubted that would make him change. He was too naïve to understand what life in prison would do to him. He was too used to being the spoiled little rich boy and given everything he wanted.

  He believed he was untouchable.

  I didn’t have the time or power to show him otherwise, but I could dangle a carrot he valued more than his own life to change his mind about Penn.

  “What are you thinking?” Larry’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tamper with things you don’t understand, Elle.”

  In the past few months of working late and getting to know Larry, I had great affection for this man who had saved Penn. Who had given him money, a home, kindness, a family. A true benefactor in every sense of the word—offering security after a lifetime of none.

  But he wa
s also nosy, and I didn’t have time to satisfy that curiosity.

  “Can you do it or not?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t promise anything. He’s probably been transferred back to corrections.”

  “Can you try?”

  He frowned but nodded. “I’ll do my best.” Gripping my hand, he squeezed kindly then marched back into the courthouse.

  * * * * *

  “Greg?”

  I clutched the phone tight.

  Larry hadn’t been able to work his magic and get me a face-to-face meeting, but he had managed a two-minute phone call.

  No more.

  No less.

  I had one hundred and twenty seconds to make Greg an offer he couldn’t refuse. And do it in a way that didn’t sound like bribery, blackmail, or any other illegal action that could end up with me taking his place in lock-up.

  I didn’t care it would be recorded.

  I didn’t care it could backfire if they decided to pull the records and use it against me.

  Penn’s life was on me. I would do anything I could to save it. Did that make me stupid? Most likely. Did that make me reckless? Most definitely.

  But I was done playing nice, and Greg endangered everything I held as priceless.

  “Elle?” Greg snapped. “What the hell do you want?”

  I didn’t waste time. “Tell the truth.”

  I wanted to barter with him. To say if he dropped his statement, I’d drop mine. That I wouldn’t press charges because I didn’t care about justice for me, just freedom for Penn.

  But I couldn’t—not on the phone.

  Every word was a damn minefield. “Tell the truth, Greg, and I’ll change your life.”

  A long pause then he finally bit. “How? How can you change my life?”

  “I’ll give you fifteen million. I’ll put it into an account that will earn interest until you’re released. You’ll never have to work again.”

  “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No joke.” My fingers turned white around the phone. “All you have to do is tell the truth.”

  Retract that Penn was trying to kill you. Stop saying I loved you. Be a man for once in your damn life.

  “Be honest, Greg. And I’ll send you the bank account number the moment court is adjourned.”

  My heart raced, bucking for his reply.

  Finally, the words I feared I’d never hear came back.

  “Twenty and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  I didn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Penn

  GREG TOOK THE stand the next day, his gaze glaring into mine.

  Freedom practically slapped me on the back and said ‘see ya later, buddy.’

  The way he licked his lips—rubbing his jaw with deliberate poise as if he couldn’t wait to get my ass thrown into jail where I’d never see Elle again.

  His lawyer stalked in front of him like a rickety stick insect, her red lips barely moving as she asked him clipped questions.

  “Did you love Ms. Charlston?”

  “Did you have a happy childhood growing up together?”

  “Did you get along with her father?”

  “Did you kidnap and rape with the intention of forced marriage and company takeover?”

  Such generic, everyday questions...apart from the last one.

  Greg delivered his answers in fluid, concise ways.

  I had to hand it to him. He sounded sane and came across as any hard working individual and not a greed-hungry psychopath.

  “Yes, I did. Still do.”

  “Yes, we did many things together. Picnics, bike rides, you name it.”

  “Of course, Joe Charlston and I go way back.”

  “No, I did not. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

  Time ticked onward. Jurors yawned a little.

  Elle’s eyes seared me from behind, and Larry didn’t move in his chair.

  The courtroom had turned from an explosive kettle yesterday to a stagnant pressure cooker today.

  Tension gathered the longer Greg blah-blahed on the stand. I felt sick just waiting for that one question. That simple phrase guaranteed to launch him into a tirade destined to send me to hell. ‘Did Penn Everett try to kill you?’

  I thought I wanted to get this farce over with. But being this close to a guilty verdict—again for something I didn’t do—turned my heart to icy stone, trying to protect itself before the inevitable happened.

  Already my ears rang with the jurors’ conclusions.

  Guilty.

  Guilty.

  Guilty.

  I froze with visions of the judge bringing his fist down with a life sentence without parole.

  Sweat trickled down my back the longer Greg and his lawyer enjoyed their question-answer dance.

  And then, the question arrived, blaring like a freight train, smoking with authority ready to steal any happiness I might’ve earned.

  His red-lipped lawyer muttered, “And do you, Greg Hobson, stand by your statement that Penn Everett went to that cabin to kill you? That you had reason to believe he’d plotted your murder and intended to carry it out?”

  Greg glanced at me then Larry. His eyes flew behind me, no doubt looking at Elle.

  The sound of fabric shifting on seats itched my ears. The entire courtroom didn’t breathe.

  I desperately wanted to turn around, to grab Elle’s hand and thank her for everything she did and apologize that it wasn’t enough. That my past had ruined everything anyway.

  But I couldn’t tear my eyes off Greg. Some masochist part of me needed to sear this moment into my brain forever. I’d use it as fuel in any prison brawls I had to win. I’d punch and punch and punch some asshole and pretend it was Greg.

  I almost stood up and held my hands out for the cuffs, tasting the inevitable.

  But something fucking miraculous happened.

  Greg leaned back, shrugging like a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You know what? I’ve had time to reflect on what happened that night, and I think I might have got it wrong.”

  Fucking what?

  My chair legs screeched as I scooted forward. Did that really just happen? I needed a replay. To press rewind and see if my brain had fritzed or if this was real life.

  Greg relaxed into his tale, bringing his leg up to cock over his knee as if he spoke to his brethren at a bar not a jury in court. “I didn’t lie—I honestly thought he did want to kill me—but I’m a reformed man and recently been using the downtime to truly assess what I thought and what was real.”

  Christ, he had the jury eating out of his goddamn hand.

  Everyone sat up, the jaded glaze fading from their eyes as if grateful he was about to tell them exactly what they should believe in so this sham could be over, and they could go back to their families.

  Greg sighed heavily, acting the perfect grieving witness. “I won’t deny that Penn Everett hurt me. Shit, I still have the bruises to prove it, and he did put me in the hospital—those are facts.” He smiled at the jury. “My ribs were cracked and larynx bruised. The doctors said I was lucky to still have a voice box.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Fucking, please.

  “But Everett had a point yesterday. I would’ve gone crazy over any dude touching my girl and thrown a few punches, too.”

  My mouth hung open.

  Did I just hear that correctly?

  Wait, that can’t have just happened?

  I’m in an alternative universe.

  I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.

  Elle’s softest gasp sounded behind me, dotting my skin with goosebumps.

  Larry sat ramrod straight, his fingernails scratching into the table.

  I was glad I wasn’t the only one fucking stupefied by this change of events.

  What the hell is going on here?

  “He got it wrong that I was raping her.” Greg’s face turned black with familiar greed then lightened to inn
ocent once again. “We were role playing.” He leaned into the jury as if it was a secret between them. “Ms. Charlston likes a bit of bondage, if you know what—”

  “Stay on topic, Mr. Hobson,” the judge muttered.

  Greg held up his hands. “Hey, kink isn’t on trial here, is it?”

  A juror or two snickered.

  Judge Blake scowled. “Continue without the sexual references that may or may not be true.”

  Greg nodded. “Yes, your honor.” Sitting tall, he added, “Penn was jealous of Elle and me. Elle was going to break it off with him to be with me—”

  Another noise came from behind me. A small keen like a broken kitten. The chemistry between Elle and I exploded as I felt her tension, endured her panic.

  “Overruled.” Larry stood. “We have multiple witness statements from Ms. Charlston's bodyguard, father, and other staff that state that is incorrect. Ms. Charlston and Mr. Everett were engaged to be married.” Larry shot me a quick smile. “They still are.”

  “Sustained. Strike from the record,” the judge commanded. Looming over Greg from his podium, Patrick Blake swiped his forehead as if this entire trial caused him a migraine. “I suggest you stick to the facts and not make-believe, Mr. Hobson.”

  Greg chuckled. “Fine. All I have to say then is Mr. Everett didn’t try to kill me. I revoke my statement.”

  The judge’s mouth fell open. “Are you sure?”

  Greg looked at Elle again. Something passed over his face—half with loathing and half with utmost satisfaction. “I’m sure.”

  Larry stood up just as Greg’s lawyer spluttered, “But—”

  Larry clapped his hands. “In that case, I motion for my client to be freed from the incorrect charges immediately. As for the other evidence about corruption and unlawful imprisonment by Arnold Twig, I’d like to progress with pressing charges at a later date with intentions to expunge my client’s record.”

  My head swam.

  I felt fucking faint.

  Christ, don’t faint like an idiot.

  I couldn’t follow what had just happened.

  I stood up on shaky legs only for the judge to bark at me to sit down.

  I did, swiveling in my chair to face Elle.

  She beamed with a happy smile.

  “Did you do this?” I whispered.