Page 112 of Convict's Game
That didn’t explain the feeling in my chest. The draw to him that was so strong it was overpowering, and the connection a rope, towing me back to his side.
Cassie hadn’t denied herself the same feeling for Riordan. From what she’d described, she’d embraced it and ran with the ball.
I had a whole lot to rethink.
For a moment, I sat back in my seat and just let myself enjoy the rush, and it felt so, so good.
Chapter 37
Mila
Days passed of calm. Convict’s crew had apparently settled on a strategy to grab Jan Salter, but not the chance to do it. I only became more distracted and lost to my thoughts. As if he could sense my distress, Convict stuck close.
I needed him near.
On the sofa, with the sunset painting blood-red streaks across the sky, I picked up the family photograph my grandfather had given me years ago. The one with the first group of relatives Marchant Haulage supported and the ship behind them.
To myself, I muttered, “How many of you were ever in real need? How many just took advantage of a good man?”
Convict moved to the back of the sofa and dropped a kiss to the top of my head. “Is that theEdenthey’re in front of?”
I linked my fingers through his, anchoring us together. “It is. There’s still no police report available, according to Lovelyn, which is so freaking frustrating. The meeting is coming up in just a few days, and I have more questions than answers.”
“What’s the most pressing?”
With my head back on the sofa, I gazed up at him, my stomach tightening with anxiety and a building sense of dread. “Exactly how much I don’t know about my family.”
On the coffee table, my phone rang, and I set the photo aside and picked it up, blinking in surprise at the name on the screen. “It’s my mother.”
I loved my mother and stepfather, but we weren’t close. My stepfather had brought two young children to the relationship, and they’d kept my folks busy enough not to worry about me.
I hadn’t talked to them at all about the Marchant family business. I’d invited them to the funeral, but only out of courtesy. They hadn’t been able to make it, which was fine. I hadn’t needed their support.
I swiped to answer but kept hold of Convict’s hand. “Hey. This is unexpected. How are you?”
“Emilia, how are things with your grandmother?” Mum’s familiar voice was strained.
“It’s nice of you to take an interest. She’s…as you might expect after her loss. Keeping to herself, though I’m doing all I can to support her. How are you? Are Jeff and the boys okay?”
“When you say ‘support her’, are you sure you’re doing all you can?”
“I… What do you mean?”
Mum took a breath. “I don’t mean to interfere, but your Uncle Wallace popped by and asked me to speak to you. He’s deeply concerned.”
My jaw dropped, and from Convict’s matching expression, I knew he could hear the other side of the conversation. Wallace hadn’t answered any of my calls or texts. I’d invited him over for dinner. I’d asked for a quick chat whenever he had time. Nothing.
“Wallace visited you?”
Mum continued. “We had a lovely cup of tea. I always said I’d have nothing to do with Marchant family affairs, none of my business, but I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to throw away the opportunities your grandparents gave you.”
“What exactly did my uncle say?”
“He encouraged you to do everything you could to make this transition easier on your grandmother. I have to say I’m surprised to have seen him. He had a lovely tan. The family meeting is soon, I believe?”
I released a breath of pure surprise. There was no reason for my mother to know about the meeting. I probably should have phrased my next sentence carefully, but I was rattled. “Did Wallace by any chance come bearing gifts?”
“As a matter of fact, he did, though it wasn’t planned. That sweet man asked all about Jude and Mitch then made a very generous offer to support their clubs for the next year. It was completely out of the blue.”
