Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(9)



Elle was mine.

I would bring her home on my own.

*

As planned, my cell-phone rang fifteen minutes later when Elle’s father arrived at his daughter’s apartment only to find me missing. “Where the hell are you?”

“Driving.”

“You should be here helping me look for Elle.”

My fingers tightened on the wheel. “I am helping look for Elle.”

“By what? Driving in circles?”

I didn’t bother telling him that Larry had contacts in the NYPD—that he could help me with phone records and credit card statements. I’d wanted a faster way, hoping Joe could provide, but if he was going to slow me down, then so be it.

He’d get left behind.

“Tell me everything you can about Steve and Greg.”

Joe sniffed. “Greg lives with his father a few blocks over from me. However, he’s not there. I called Steve, and he’s as freaked as I am about all of this. He said Greg never came home last night—but that’s nothing new. He has girlfriends who he stays with periodically.”

I ignored the fact that the slime ball slept around all the while trying to get Elle into bed.

I’d kill him just for that.

“Any other property? Known addresses he’d go to on his own?” My car broke the speed limit as I weaved down Broadway.

“Steve bought a log cabin a few years ago out in Rochester. He said Greg might’ve—”

“The address. Now.”

“It’s off the beaten track. Look for a creek called Bearfoot Rapids. The house is tucked away with a carved lumberjack holding a mailbox at the start of the driveway.”

“No street name or number?”

“No, that’s what made it appealing. It can’t be found easily.”

Fucking brilliant.

Holding back my curse, I gritted, “Thanks. I’ll call you when I’m there.”

I hung up and tossed the phone onto the seat beside me.

Rochester was a good five-hour drive away.

Christ, he could do anything to her in that time, and I’d be too late.

The Mercedes snarled as I stomped on the pedal, forcing gas to feed its greedy engine.

Hold on, Elle.

This time, I wouldn’t let her down.





Chapter Five


Elle


SUNSHINE.

A new day.

No sleep.

No rest.

Only panic.

Greg shifted, his arm still locked around my middle, his skin against mine, his body sickeningly close.

Dawn had arrived, and I’d watched every painful minute of it as the sky switched from black to pink then pink to gold, basking the cabin, glittering on the lake through the windows.

It took all my willpower to stay calm and not give in to the panic gnawing at my bones.

How many more mornings would pass before I could get free?

Greg rolled over; the leash tethering me to him jerked my wrist. My skin was red and irritated from rope burn.

I grunted as he forced me to roll over, tucking me against his body. “Morning, beautiful.”

I bit my tongue and didn’t reply.

If I did, I’d spew curses and commands—neither of which would do me any good.

I had to hope that if I remained silent and obedient, he’d let me call Dad and ease his worry, so I remained parented and not an orphan.

The only good thing about Greg taking me was I didn’t have time to stew about Penn and his deception. I only had the brain capacity to currently hate Greg.

Penn will come later.

“I don’t care if you don’t speak, Elle. I rather like quiet women.” Unraveling the rope from his fist, he stood up and stretched. Morning wood once again speared his boxer-briefs.

He smirked, catching me looking. “That’s all yours the moment you’ve had a shower.” He bent over me, pressing his hands into the pillow on either side of my ears. “Can’t fuck you without washing you first. Who the hell knows if that bastard touched you last night.”

I fought the reply plastering itself over my face.

Penn had touched me.

He’d fucked me in the limo before I knew the truth. I’d believed he felt something for me while I felt something for him. I was excited, thinking he’d be honest and forthright and all the mistrust and lies would vanish like mist fading over the lake.

I’d begged for clarity.

Just not the clarity I’d been given.

My necklace had ruined those fantasies.

Grabbing my hand, Greg pulled me from the warm covers and into the crisp morning air. No heating meant goosebumps scattered over my flesh then layered with more as he leered at me. “All this time and we could've been waking up side by side, instead of working on different floors at Belle Elle.” His fingers traced my belly button. “Isn’t it nice?” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine.

I ripped my face away, not only because I had a phobia of morning breath but because he had no right, none, to kiss me.

“Let me go, Greg.” The first words I’d spoken in hours.

He grinned. “You mean untie this?” He tugged the twine, making my arm bounce.

“You know what I mean. Everything. Cut me loose, drive me home. This has gone on long enough.”

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