Page 10 of By His Side

“I never said that!”

I cursed myself for making the shutters come down. The last thing I wanted was to bring out the combative Felix, especially within the confines of my car. “Anyway,” I said breezily. “That’s good news, right? I’d assume it’s a far nicer place to live. I know you were never keen on the idea of staying at Benedict House.”

“Do you blame me?”

It was a loaded question. The honest answer was no, but that was hardly a glowing recommendation for the rehabilitation system that I was a part of. Saying yes, though, would be an out and out lie. “No,” I eventually admitted after too long of a pause. “I don’t blame you. Not if there’s a better option.”

To give Felix his due, he didn’t call me on it, just accepting what I’d said without comment.

I spent the rest of the journey going through when I needed to meet with him and my expectations for how things would go in the first few weeks. Felix was far easier to talk to when I had an excuse not to look at him. He wasn’t particularly forthcoming, the conversation mostly one-sided with the occasional grunt from him.

When we drew up in front of his mother’s address in Hampstead, I was surprised. I’d expected a house split into separate flats, but it was a single residence. A property like this so close to Hampstead Heath would cost millions. Had I cocked up and put the wrong postcode in the sat-nav? “This is where your mother lives?”

Felix turned cool gray eyes on me, and I was struck anew by how pretty they were. They were ringed by dark lashes that any woman would have been envious of. Hell, I was envious, and I was a guy. “What? Do you think every convicted criminal should come from poverty?”

“No, of course not. But this is a long way from poverty.” About as far as you could get. Only a stately home could have cost more.

“My father had shares in oil. He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Felix didn’t respond. He didn’t make any move to get out of the car, either. For someone who’d been adamant he’d be staying here, he didn’t seem keen to get on with doing that.

“Is your mother at home?” I asked.

Felix continued to stare at the house. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have a key if she’s not?”

“No.”

His voice was flat, but I sensed a tsunami of emotion floating beneath the surface. “If she’s not here, how are you going to get in?”

“I’ll break in.” Felix left a long pause before shooting me a sly look. “I’m joking, of course.”

“I knew that. You weren’t inside for breaking and entering.”

“No, I was inside for murder. Maybe I should just murder the neighbors and take over their house instead.”

“Accessory to murder,” I said absently, most of my attention on the house.

Felix didn’t need to say anything about the correction for me to sense it pleased him as he climbed out of the car. I guess if it was me, I’d appreciate the distinction as well. When I joined him on the pavement, he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I need to come in with you.”

“Why?”

“Because the arrangements were too last-minute for me to carry out a home visit prior to your release. I need to check it’s a suitable place for you to live. I would have got someone else to do it, but I got badly burned on that in the past, so I do it myself wherever possible.”

Felix started toward the house, and I fell into step beside him. “What would make it unsuitable?” he asked.

“Cannabis farm in the attic. Someone tied up in the cellar. Base for a money laundering operation. You know, that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing,” he said drolly. “I dare you to ask my mother those sorts of questions and see how she responds to them.”

“I’m not that brave.”

There was a moment of awkwardness when we reached the front door, Felix not seeming to know whether to try the handle and walk in if it was unlocked, or knock. In the end, he settled for the latter, raising his fist and rapping on the glass. I hung back a few steps, figuring the least I could do was not put myself front and center for the emotional mother and son reunion.

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