Page 150 of Convict's Game

The wonder in his eyes and his smile of happiness nearly broke me.

“I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway.” He tipped his head to the door. “Pull that curtain around and get naked. We have four minutes left.”

I choked on my tears and laughed. “You’ve been out cold for two hours. No way am I getting your blood pressure up again. Or anything else for that matter.”

“I need you. I’ve waited all my life for someone to love me.”

My heart swelled, and I stroked his cheek, flushed red with warmth. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life showing it to you so you never miss out again.”

A knock rattled the door. Arran opened it a few inches without looking in. “The doc’s back. If you’re given the all clear, I’ll get you out of here.”

Convict allowed me to hop off the bed, but I kept his hand held tight in mine.

The doctor entered and ran her critical gaze over Convict. “Mr Locke, I’m glad to see you’re conscious. Tell me what you remember.”

He glanced at me then spoke of getting caught trespassing and tasered by the police. The next thing he knew was waking up in the safe house. The mark on his forehead was from electricity? Nausea churned my belly.

The doctor listened carefully. “I’ve reviewed the results of your scan. Considering the injury, you were lucky. A Taser incident like that could cause a fracture, haemorrhage, or even seizure-like activity. However, I am glad to say I discovered no new fracture and no bleed. You are concussed, though. That is likely the reason for your loss of consciousness. I recommend remaining here in the hospital where we can keep an eye on you.”

Convict shook his head, his lips flattened. “No chance. Tell me what to look out for?”

She sighed though didn’t seem surprised. “Headache, confusion, balance issues, and any other instances of loss of consciousness, then you need to be coming straight back in here. Do you understand?”

He blinked. “Perfectly, thanks. Can I go?”

“Against my better judgement, yes.”

He punched the air.

Arran’s phone buzzed. He read the screen. “What do you know, Detective Dickhead is in the building. Want to say hi?”

Immediately, the doctor stood. “I need to see other patients. Stay out of trouble, Mr Locke.”

I stared after her. She’d been paid off. More and more, I understood the sphere of influence the skeleton crew wielded. But I didn’t get Arran teasing about Chief Constable Kenney.

“We need to go,” I said.

Convict watched his friend. “Or not. Is he here alone or mob-handed?”

“Tyler says alone.”

“Let him come in.”

I swung my gaze between them. “What are you doing?”

Convict squeezed my hand. He’d never let go. “Showing him that the tables have turned. I won’t run scared in my own city.”

The door opened, and Tyler ducked under the frame, his expression stony. He and Arran vanished into the private bathroom. Through the gap in the door, Shade guarded the opposite side of the corridor. I knew Manny and others to be around, too, but that didn’t settle my rising fear.

I’d only just got him back. I wouldn’t let him be taken again.

A stomping came down the hall, then the door burst open. The big police officer entered the room.

On the bed, Convict reclined. “What, no fruit basket? I want my grapes.”

Kenney’s lip curled. He didn’t even glance at me. “We weren’t done talking, as I recall.”

“Didn’t take you for clingy, but I was well over your bad breath in my face.”