Chapter 38 Mila Days passed of calm. Convict's crew had apparently settled on a strategy to grab Jan Salter, but not the chance to do it. I only became more distracted and lost to my thoughts. As if he could sense my distress, Convict stuck close. I needed him near. On the sofa, with the sunset painting blood-red streaks across the sky, I picked up the family photograph my grandfather had given me years ago. The one with the first group of relatives Marchant Haulage supported and the ship behind them. To myself, I muttered, "How many of you were ever in real need? How many just took advantage of a good man?" Convict moved to the back of the sofa and dropped a kiss to the top of my head. "Is that the Eden they're in front of?" I linked my fingers through his, anchoring us together. "It is. There's still no police report available, according to Lovelyn, which is so freaking frustrating. The meeting is coming up in just a few days, and I have more questions than answers." "What's the most pressing?" With my head back on the sofa, I gazed up at him, my stomach tightening with anxiety and a building sense of dread. "Exactly how much I don't know about my family." On the coffee table, my phone rang, and I set the photo aside and picked it up, blinking in surprise at the name on the screen. "It's my mother." I loved my mother and stepfather, but we weren't close. My stepfather had brought two young children to the relationship, and they'd kept my folks busy enough not to worry about me. I hadn't talked to them at all about the Marchant family business. I'd invited them to the funeral, but only out of courtesy. They hadn't been able to make it, which was fine. I hadn't needed their support. I swiped to answer but kept hold of Convict's hand. "Hey. This is unexpected. How are you?" "Emilia, how are things with your grandmother?" Mum's familiar voice was strained. "It's nice of you to take an interest. She's...as you might expect after her loss. Keeping to herself, though I'm doing all I can to support her. How are you? Are Jeff and the boys okay?" "When you say 'support her', are you sure you're doing all you can?" "I... What do you mean?" Mum took a breath. "I don't mean to interfere, but your Uncle Wallace popped by and asked me to speak to you. He's deeply concerned." My jaw dropped, and from Convict's matching expression, I knew he could hear the other side of the conversation. Wallace hadn't answered any of my calls or texts. I'd invited him over for dinner. I'd asked for a quick chat whenever he had time. Nothing. "Wallace visited you?" Mum continued. "We had a lovely cup of tea. I always said I'd have nothing to do with Marchant family affairs, none of my business, but I'm worried about you. I don't want you to throw away the opportunities your grandparents gave you." "What exactly did my uncle say?" "He encouraged you to do everything you could to make this transition easier on your grandmother. I have to say I'm surprised to have seen him. He had a lovely tan. The family meeting is soon, I believe?" I released a breath of pure surprise. There was no reason for my mother to know about the meeting. I probably should have phrased my next sentence carefully, but I was rattled. "Did Wallace by any chance come bearing gifts?" "As a matter of fact, he did, though it wasn't planned. That sweet man asked all about Jude and Mitch then made a very generous offer to support their clubs for the next year. It was completely out of the blue." I sighed. "No, it wasn't. He was trying to bribe you to have this conversation with me." "Surely not. Why on earth would he? He was just being nice." My mother's world was so far apart from the Marchant life. There were no deals, no business manoeuvres. She lived in a nice three-bed semi, just down the road from the hairdresser's where she worked, with Jeff right next door in an estate agent's office. The boys went to a well-rated school nearby. The four of them played family tennis together on weekends. Explaining the situation I was in suddenly felt exhausting. I closed my eyes. "No, you're right. Sorry. Did Wallace say anything else?" "Only that he's worried about his mum and he wants all the business drama to be over and done with soon." "Of course he does. We all do." With a few more platitudes, I got off the call. Convict circled the couch to sit next to me. "Are Wallace's actions a threat?" "I don't think so. He isn't vicious in any way. If you met him, you'd see what I mean. I just don't understand why he won't pick up my calls yet he'll set my mum on me." "Cowardly." An idea sprang into my mind. Two, in fact. I needed more information to work with. There was no point in me complaining about being in the dark when I hadn't tried all the ways to turn on a light. Throwing my leg over Convict, I settled on his lap and rested my elbows lightly on his shoulders, drifting my fingers through his too-long hair. "Will you come with me to do something illegal?" "Always. When are we leaving?" I loved that. I loved his instant readiness to be whatever I needed him to be. If I needed space, he gave it to me. When we hadn't been talking, he'd made sure I was fed. Even before we were together, when I was out on a limb and doing dangerous things for questionable reasons, he'd been watching over me. Since his confession of all the bad things he'd done, I'd only started seeing the good, and it was building up to a conclusion I wasn't ready to accept. I could, however, give in to the urge to start taking care of him in the way he did me. "After nightfall. Maybe in a few hours." His dark gaze held mine. "Whatever will we do with ourselves until then?" I leaned in and kissed him softly. "You need a haircut." "Can you do it while riding my dick?" I was pretty sure that was inevitable for us. We set up in the bathroom with a kitchen stool and an old towel. The scissors made a soft snick as I clipped a lock of Convict's dark hair. With his shoulders relaxed and chin tipped down, he kept one hand on me when I moved around him. Always touching me somehow. The bathroom mirror reflected us in golden light. Him, shirtless and calm, and me, trying not to fall apart while my priorities battled and changed. "Let me fuck you while you work." I tutted. "Not yet." "We'll make it a game. You give me a haircut, I give you an orgasm. First one to mess up loses." I rolled my eyes and moved on. His hair had grown out silky and thick, curling slightly at the ends. I combed it with my fingers and worked carefully to crop it back, shorter at the sides and blending it to longer on top. It was strange how familiar he'd become. The faint freckle behind his left ear, his ink, the raised scar on his shoulder he couldn't explain, and the exact spot on his neck where I could drop a kiss that would make him shiver. I landed my lips there. He hissed and tugged me around to the front to claim my lips. I let him, just once, then pulled back and continued my task. I took my time over getting it right, and dusting the loose hair away so it didn't tickle his skin. It was a journey of discovery, of sorts. I was seeing him differently. Not just as the lost boy who'd made me a deal, but as more. More than thirty days. More than temporary in my life. When I came around the front, his gaze filled with hunger and longing. "On my lap. I'll hold you. Just let me warm my dick inside you." Heat surged in me. My hesitation condemned me. Convict seized the chance and ran his hands under my skirt to wrangle my underwear off me in a move than had me gasping. Then his jeans were wrenched down, and he picked me up, settling me over his lap. He pushed inside me in slow, torturous inches. "So wet for me. Your cunt is my happy place, know that? You feel so good." My heart pounded. I draped against him, my eyes closed and the scissors held at bay. I tightened my legs around his waist, the way he filled me lighting up pleasure centres that stole my thoughts. Yet he didn't take it further. "Just keep trimming. I'll stay right here, balls-deep in my emotional support girlfriend." "You expect me to work like this?" "Come on, businesswoman of the year. Let's see you handle a hostile takeover." The haircut was close to being finished, but continuing while being filled with his considerable length took every ounce of presence I could summon. Yet he'd made it a challenge, and I could leave him a mess. Opening my eyes, I fought through the lust and continued cutting. Minutes passed, and my heart calmed, my focus returning to me. I liked simply warming his cock. There was an intimacy to it I hadn't anticipated. Far from the frantic, clawing sex that was more of our norm. When I was done, I traced my fingertip over the pale scar that led back from his temple. It was the visible reminder of his amnesia which had mostly been hidden beneath the longer strands. That scar worried me, more than I let on. One of his hands cupped my ass while the other flirted with the hem of my thin, strappy top. "What is it?" "What if one day you remember something about your old life that changes you?" sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. He shrugged a bulky shoulder. "Pretty sure I know all the important things. Anything else is just background detail." "What if you had a girlfriend?" "I didn't. Kind of love the direction of your concerns, though. Keep going on your trip down insecure alley." I scowled and tried to lift off him, but he grabbed my thigh and held me down. Inside me, his cock throbbed. Heat flared in his expression. "You're worried about me falling out of love with you." I made an off sound, pretending to focus on his hair again, though I'd already set down the scissors. "You are not in love with me." He tipped my head down to link his gaze to mine. Nothing but sincerity shone in his dark eyes. "After coming out of hospital, there were very few things I could be certain of, but from first sight, I knew you." He took my hand and placed it on his chest so I could feel the fast beat. "My heart was yours from that moment. No hesitation, no doubt. Remember how sure I was that we'd met?" I slowly inclined my head. "Nothing from my old life could ever change that connection. I've been regaining memories every day, but this thing? It's only getting deeper." I kissed him. Not hard or fast but the kind of kiss that held meaning, because everything he'd said had shaken me up and settled me down exactly as I'd needed. In the midst of chaos, he was the one person I could rely on. The eye in my storm. Convict stood and lifted me onto the counter, my thighs wide around him so my skirt rode up. His mouth landed on mine again, then my neck, his hands finding my breasts. I matched his urgency. When we moved together, it was as much relief as desperation. The slow grind of his body, the way he filled me, owned me, erased the noise in my head until I came with his name on my lips. When he finished, his forehead pressed to mine, breath heavy and his words on repeat, I didn't say it. I couldn't. But I was certain I was falling in love with him, too.