Page 33 of Convict’s Game (Skeleton Crew #1)

Something ticked over in his vision, the intensity sharpening. “I was thinking about when we were kids, fighting at the Borders club in Newcastle. Do you remember Big Al, the doorman?”

Vaguely, I remembered fighting. I remembered Arran as an angry teenager. The rest of it was a mystery I needed to lie my way out of. “Sure, huge guy, worked the door. What of him?”

He sat back and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Because you’re full of shit. Tyler was right.”

And now he’d caught me lying. I shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the judgement he was about to give. This was over. He was done with me. And rightly so.

On my lap, the damn cat purred, reading the room all wrong.

Arran’s heavy focus landed back on me, full of exasperation. Not hate. Not loathing. “Big Al doesn’t exist, nor does that club. You have amnesia, don’t you?”

Oh fuck.

It hit like a punch. The falsehood, the failing memory, the fact I’d come here hoping to fake it through. I wasn’t a ghost, I was a copy of a man everyone else remembered, except me.

I tried and failed to form an answer.

In all my preparation, I’d expected to blag my way through our shared history. I didn’t want him to know what was wrong with me. In the same heartbeat, I was so damn relieved I had to pass a hand across my face to hide my emotion.

Arran stood and crossed to sit on the sofa next to me. He shoved my hand away from my face then tilted my jaw so he could see my scar. Lightly, he touched the edge of it.

“Is that cracked skull healed?”

“Mostly.”

“Yet you can’t remember anything?”

“It’s coming back. Just slower than I’d like.”

He swore again. “I’m to blame for what happened to you. You were undercover on my orders and because I was so fucked up that I was taking out my anger on one of the closest people to me. You were six months out of jail. I should’ve been more careful with you.”

Six months. “What did I do to land the prison time?” There was no point pretending. At last, I could ask about myself and get real answers. Relief sank my shoulders. The cat purred louder.

“That time? Assault. You’re handy with your fists. You got three years. They made you serve two. Is all of that a blank?”

I managed a small nod. “So what’s my problem? Am I reckless or just really bad at not getting caught?”

Arran twisted his lips to one side. “Reckless is one word. I’d use relentless.

I’ve known you for over a decade, and you haven’t changed.

When you have a task, you do anything to see it through.

Nothing stops you. That tunnel vision carries the risk of not giving a fuck about the cops. A last-man-standing kind of deal.”

“I’m boneheaded.”

He shook his head. “You’re loyal and determined.”

“Am I?” I stared at him. “Because I can’t handle the thought that I let you down.

That I let my crew down. I know from Dixie that I entered the game against your orders.

I earned your anger, and rightly so. What I don’t know is the second part of it.

Dixie told me I’d done something else except she didn’t have the details. Can you tell me?”

Arran stood and crossed to the kitchen. From a shelf, he took glasses and a whisky bottle. He poured two shots and returned, handing one to me and staying on his feet.

He tossed his back and grimaced. “First, the game incident. You broke the rules by going into it, but my reaction was unjustified. It centred on the fact it was Genevieve you hunted. Like you, she wasn’t supposed to be in there.

I was already fucked up over her, just as I’m even more fucked up over her now we’re married.

I’d kill for her. At that point in time, I didn’t understand it. ”

“I get it. If anyone touched Mila, I’d find myself in prison again, this time for murder.”

He snorted. “That’s what Tyler told me. You and she were something, but she entered the game and needed rescuing.

I understand the feeling. But back to the first time.

After my bad reaction, I pushed you to the edge of the crew and gave you the task of monitoring the Four Milers.

Not every part of it went to plan. I discovered you fronting for them and beat the living shit out of you.

I didn’t take the time to listen or even think about how my friend who’d spent years of his life behind bars was coping.

No discussion, no reprieve. I hate myself for that. ”

I swallowed my drink, relishing the burn. What a fucking mess. “Don’t. I no doubt deserved it. Is that when I went undercover?”

He explained how he’d publicly thrown me out of the gang, and fresh flashes of memory came of being snapped up by the Four Milers who’d thought me fair game.

Arran continued. “Know what haunts me? You asked to come home, and I said not yet. You have no idea how badly I’ve regretted that.

I let down one of my oldest friends because of changes in my life I couldn’t begin to get to grips with.

That’s on me, and it won’t happen again.

When I tell you I’m sorry, I mean it. I’ll make it up to you. Whatever you need is yours.”

I hadn’t expected this. The emotions inside me surged, and I couldn’t meet his eye. Only at the cat cuddled up to my chest and giving comfort I barely deserved. Arran wasn’t kicking me out. It gutted me to think of the disconnect between us. I’d created that.

“The only thing I want is your friendship back. And maybe a little help remembering who I am.”

Arran grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet and into a hard hug that felt so familiar it hurt. Rosie the cat slunk away, her work done.

“Consider it yours. Now, come with me. I want to walk around the club with you so people can see us together. They’ll need to know we’re both still breathing.”

Together, we made our way out of the apartment.

“Any particular reason they’re expecting bloodshed?” I asked.

Arran sighed. “After you arrived, I had a barrage of texts from various crew members, all offering encouragement to basically not be a dick.”

He called the lift, and I lightly barged his shoulder with mine.

“What if we come out swinging? Give them something to stare at?”

He gave me an indulgent look. “This is why I love you. You have every right to despise me, yet here you are, your usual self.”

“Love you, too, brother. That’s one thing I never forgot.”

We travelled down in the lift. At the ground floor, Arran slung a casual arm around my neck.

I shoved him off me, grinning. Multiple people in skeleton crew t-shirts or the pink-and-black strip club uniform openly gawked then busied themselves at their tasks, stealing glimpses and poking others to take in the show.

At the entrance to the office, Shade and Tyler swapped a clearly relieved glance.

Arran gave a short laugh. “Put away the knives. We’re good.”

Shade cocked his head. “I was going with a straitjacket, actually.”

Tyler’s gaze stuck on me. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He meant my memory. No use hedging around it now. “And appear more of a fuck-up? No, thanks. Listen, if you’re sticking around, I’ll find you later with Mila.”

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.”

She tried to pull away. “Stop.”

“You do, though. For more than just my dick.”

Mila batted at me, but I dove in and stole another soul-searching kiss, earning the same heat in return.

Maybe somewhere in that, I had options.

Arran had told me I’d dreamed up my own games. With Mila at the centre of them, if I fucked her and loved her enough, maybe, just maybe, I could make her fall for me in return. That was the point of spending thirty days together.

Arran had also warned me that I was relentless when it came to doing what needed to be done.

Mila wasn’t just the prize. She was the whole damn playing field. And I was done playing by anyone else’s rules.