Page 93 of Convict's Game

I nodded. She’d mentioned a block of flats when I’d asked to meet up, though we’d ended up making the arrangements over the phone.

“Excellent. That plus a chat with the other women who were in the auction with you is a must to give us intelligence. Who bought them, what did they know of the deceased, and what rumours have they heard since? I feel a field trip coming on. Charge your glasses, ladies.”

A clamour of answers started, Everly crying off at leaving the warehouse, Lovelyn excited about investigating the police angle,and Cassie narrating the text she was sending her boyfriend who’d act as our security.

She winked at me. “If Convict freaks out, tell him it’s part of the Skeleton Girls curriculum: Field Trips and Fuck Yous.”

I stared between them. “Wait. How will Convict know that I’ve left?”

Cassie snickered, and Genevieve covered her mouth. Even a queasy-looking Everly smiled.

Cassie gave me the answer. “If he isn’t tracking your every move, then he doesn’t deserve the title of skeleton crew. Trust me, he’ll know.”

Chapter 31

Convict

The drive to Edinburgh took us through dark countryside and lonely roads. Arran had to take a call for the first stretch but was done by the time the route spat us out in the suburbs. We skirted the city and followed the signs for Leith.

Arran tapped the steering wheel. “I spent time pulling my memories together to help you get back yours. A lot of it I’d blocked out. It wasn’t the best time for me.”

I wanted to ask why, but I kept my mouth closed. I needed everything he could give me, and if I spoke, I might break the spell.

“Do you know where you’re from?”

Slowly, I shook my head. This evening, I carried a blade. We both did. I toyed with mine.

“Here, but you moved around with most of your time in foster care in England, hence the lack of a strong accent, but you were born in and came back to Leith more than anywhere else.”

He turned onto Salamander Street, and I peered out at the mixture of modern blocks of flats and old stone industrial buildings with deep yards on the other side of the road. A memory flickered. Of being a kid and sneaking under the gates at night, or climbing walls. Probably up to no good.

“It’s changed,” I mumbled.

“The whole area is booming. Gentrification,” he said like a dirty word. Arran eyed me. “Is it coming back?”

“A little.”

A car swung out of a junction without pause. Arran laid on the horn, and the driver of the blue BMW gave an answering angry blare before shooting off.

“We met here as teenagers, but you shared candid stories of your upbringing. I think because I was so obviously fucked up, you did it to show me there was life on the other side of everything breaking apart.”

I couldn’t smile. “Trauma bonding.”

“Something like that. What you told me isn’t great, so you have the choice over hearing it all, or a basic version so you don’t have to relive it.”

“For fuck’s sake. All of it.”

Arran inclined his head, and after a couple more turns, parked up on a junction with Ocean Drive. We climbed from the car.

Wind whipped us, carrying with it the salt of the sea and trying to steal his words.

He pointed to a block of flats on the corner of the street. “The Glasshouse pub was here. I didn’t know it had been razed and built on. Fuck developers for taking this memory from us both.”

I heaved a breath. “Can’t stab a planning committee, but I’d give it a go.”

He dragged his gaze off the ugly block and back to me. “The first night you came, you were dropped off by your probation officer. You were seventeen and had done a stretch in a youth offending centre, then for the last couple of months, they’d housed you in an adult jail in order to deter you from offending again. Such a fucking joke. I was sat in my car and saw the guy arrive with you. He told you with your track record, you’d neverget a job. Your best bet was to earn money with your fists. You had nothing. Not even a bag of clothes.”

“Shit. At seventeen, I bet I thought I’d live forever. Just didn’t think I’d suck so badly at it. Did I have a home to go to?” I regretted the words, even as I asked them.