Page 75 of Convict's Game

Tyler nodded. “I’ll be here.”

Arran turned our steps to the nightclub. “You seem tight with Mila.”

“We are.”

“The game does that. I’m glad for you. You know, you were around when I originally came up with the concept. You had suggestions for others. If you still want to try them, have at it.”

I hiked up my eyebrows. I enjoyed playing games with Mila. Looked like that was something I’d carried over from my past life. “Do you remember any of my ideas?”

“Sorry. Hopefully they’ll come back as your memory returns. Seeing a doc for that, by the way?”

“I’m over hospitals. Not being dramatic, but I’m only going inside one again if I’m dead. Again.”

We entered the club, the wall of sound stealing our conversation. At the steps to the VIP area, a bouncer in a black skeleton crew t-shirt hurried to unclip the rope and make way for us to climb to the next level. There, an exclusive bar and dance floor spread out with black-and-silver private booths to one side, club skull logos glowing in neon pink, and the noise level not so overpowering.

Instantly, I spotted Mila. She had her head close to Cassie’s and Lovelyn’s as the latter said something that had them laughing. Genevieve made up the fourth in their party. Fair hair, coffee cocktail on the table, I knew her straight away. Hated the pain that came with that memory.

I touched Arran’s arm then gestured to his woman. I needed to make amends. His lips flattened, but he nodded understanding.

On our approach, the four women glanced up, and the crew watching over them, Manny and Riordan, slunk back into the shadows. Mila eased out of the booth and came to me, melting into my arms like it was the most natural place for her to be. Her gaze took in mine, and she visibly relaxed at whatever she could see. I kissed her forehead in reassurance. Her fingers twisted in my shirt at the small of my back.

Damn if I loved having someone to hold on to.

Genevieve joined Arran, the same worried expression in her eyes.

I formed a polite smile for the woman I’d hurt. “Congratulations on the wedding. I’m sorry I missed it.”

Genevieve tilted her head. At her throat, a jewelled choker sparkled. If I knew Arran, and I was starting to, that diamond band was bulletproof.

“I’m sorry you did, too. Can we talk for a moment?”

She directed me away a few feet. “I’m so glad to see you back. When we heard about you, I thought Arran was going to break down. He nearly did. A lot of what happened to you was because of me.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“He was trying to protect me. I feel guilt over it.”

“If one more person apologises to me, I might quit the crew just to get some peace.”

This made her laugh. “Okay. Friends, then?”

She stuck her hand out, and I shook it.

This evening felt like a reprieve. I could’ve lost everything yet I hadn’t. I returned to Mila and walked her backwards to the silver barrier which overlooked the dance floor below. I stole a kiss, then another, and pressed her body to mine. A decision lodged inside me.

I’d wanted my position in my crew so badly it had overtaken how much I wanted her. Now that was settled, the need to keep Mila became my solitary goal.

She returned my kiss with an energy that matched mine. Publicly, barely decently, and hot as fuck. If it was fake, I didn’t care.

I tore my lips from hers to speak in her ear. “Don’t hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“My job is secure. I can offer stability.”

A line formed between Mila’s eyebrows. “I wasn’t going to leave you if tonight had a different outcome.”

I clung to those words. Turned them over in my head. Then I laughed. “Holy shit. You like me.”