Page 95 of Convict's Game
Small pieces of memories slid together like a puzzle. Facing off against a teenager with dark-blond hair and bloodiedknuckles. Brawling and landing punches which made us laugh. Sitting in a tattoo chair…
I lurched for him. Wrenched up his t-shirt to reveal his side and a tattoo of a skull wearing a bandanna. Same as the one that had been on my arm.
Arran let me look then shoved me away. “We were skeleton crew before we even had the name.”
My heart sank, but I tore up my sleeve to brandish my disfigured arm, waiting for the disgust in his face. “Not anymore. Mine was burned away on the night of the fire. Guess I deserved that.”
Anger came swift to his features. “No you didn’t.”
I had no reason for my instant fury with Arran. He was my friend. The one person who had consistently been there for me. Until he hadn’t. I battled with the hurt that came from his rejection.
He grabbed me by the shoulders and held me steady in front of him. Meaning flashed in his eyes. “I’ve said it already, but I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you. I can’t change the past but I can ask for forgiveness, and I can make life as easy for you as possible now.”
I couldn’t speak. He hugged me, too hard, then thumped me on the back and pushed me away.
Neither of us spoke for a long minute. Only continued our walk down the edge of the water, slowly frosting over in the freezing North Sea wind.
As soon as I could manage it, I gave him the truth. “I think Mila will leave me when our time is up. We made a deal that she’d honour the rules of the game in exchange for me helping with her family problems.”
I was a thug, I thought with my fists, but I didn’t want to be a liar right now.
Arran swallowed but inclined his head. “Have you told her you love her?”
“No.”
“But you do.” He didn’t ask it as a question. “It isn’t a rule, but some contestants make a point of saying it from day one. Some from the moment they make their claim. It’s powerful. Having someone love you is,” he searched for the words, “fucking everything.”
I knocked down the surges of emotion that wouldn’t stop coming. From his revelations, from his promises, from thoughts of Mila.
“That’s the only thing I want besides my place in the skeleton crew. Her. I need her.”
“I know exactly how you feel.”
I watched the black sea, my head thick with stories and half-formed memories. My need to have Mila in the forefront of my life, even as I was miles away from her.
It was then that I realised what I was looking at.
I stopped dead and stared at the ship across the water, a huge vessel painted red and white with cargo containers on the back. Across the side read ‘MARCHANT HAULAGE’ then the ship’s name,EDEN, further along.
“That’s one of Mila’s family’s ships.”
Arran said something, but it was lost to my mind summoning a more recent occurrence. I knew that boat. I’d seen it before. Maybe within the past few months.
I focused hard, but the recollection slipped and fractured. Fuck my broken brain. I didn’t know if that was real or if I was hallucinating from the night I’d researched her while she’d slept in my cam girls’ room.
From my pocket, I found my phone and went to search the same thing I had that night, checking if this ship appeared as a picture.
A notification pinged on my screen at the same moment. My tracker, set up according to Shade’s instructions. Mila was moving through the city, fast. My gut dropped like I’d been punched.
“Mila’s left the warehouse.”
Arran swore and brought out his own phone. “Genevieve, too.”
I slapped him on the shoulder, urging him to go. Right as a crack rang out and the Marchant ship exploded in a rain of fire, bright in the pitch-black night.
Her name, her family, her fucking inheritance. Going up in flames.
Chapter 32
