Page 15 of Convict's Game
Maybe I was an obsessive kind of man. But from first sight of Mila, I’d only wanted more, and now we’d spoken, that interest was turning into something else.
I had no idea if that was good or very, very bad.
Chapter 5
Mila
“I’ll leave it to your imagination over what my body does when I see you. Or, apparently, speak to you.” Convict’s voice was thick with sleep. Like he’d crashed out wherever he’d escaped to, then the first thing he did on waking was call me.
My mind leapt to a bed somewhere, and to the tall, dark-haired lost boy stripped down to his underwear.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I was suddenly, startlingly hot. So much I squeezed my thighs together in search of any small relief. “I want to know.”
“Tit for tat, love.”
Meaning if he was going to confess to me, I’d need to share something about myself. “I can’t tell you much.”
“You a cop?”
“No. Is it your heart that beats faster when you see me?”
“That’s one very minor part of my reaction.”
My breathing caught. “Your…?”
“Say it, and I’ll confirm it.”
I groaned but stifled the sound. There was no reason this should be so hot. So he was pretty? That didn’t mean he was a nice guy.
I blurted my next question. “What are you? I mean what type of person?”
I heard the shrug in his voice. “No fucking clue. Amnesia, remember? I work for good people, though.”
“I thought you were in a gang?”
“You assumed that. I never confirmed it. Does it automatically make me bad if I am?” At my lack of an answer, he continued. “What do you know about the gangs in Deadwater?”
“Not much, only their reputations. I grew up here, but that side of it isn’t my world.”
He snorted an unfunny laugh. “I know. Which makes no sense why you’re there in that room waiting for fuck knows who. At best, it’ll be some jackass gangbanger, which means you’re risking your skin for what I hope to be a fucking solid reason.”
I rubbed my forehead. Was I that transparent for him to have seen through me in two brief conversations? “Why did you leave your phone with me? Are you hunting these people? If so, that’s not helpful to me.”
“Figured that. Perhaps I just wanted to hear your voice again.”
I closed my eyes and lay back on the bed. Throughout the conversation, I’d stayed alert for any other sound in the house, but the music had shut off at some point while I’d slept, and the place had been silent since. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but no one had arrived yet, which meant I had to stay here until they did.
I should feel vulnerable. Yet strangely, the lifeline of this conversation was keeping my nerves under control. The stranger on the other end of the line was oddly more of a friend than any person I knew in real life right now.
“I’m not a bad person either,” I breathed out in a rush.
“Good to know I’m not into a villain.”
“Into?”
“We’re back to the parts of me that are interested in you.”
