Page 140 of Watched

“Rome,” Isla’s voice carries down the corridor, and she sprints toward him, a black and white scarf around her neck and his jersey on, black and white pom-poms in hand. Her parents, grandmother and Rome’s family, including his grandfather, trail behind her. He growls and lifts her up. “I wore your jersey.” She beams, that star-struck expression glistening in her big blue eyes.

“I can see that,” he laughs.

I twist around to introduce myself, blowing out a breath.

“What’s wrong with you?” Isla’s grandmother, who I now know as Delilah, asks.

“I was shot,” I mouth.

“Oh, God,” Cathy breathes out, her husband’s eyes growing wide.

Delilah laughs and hits my shoulder. “Not even Satan wanted you.”

I shake my head, extending my hand to Rome’s grandfather. “Pleasure to finally meet you, sir.”

He takes my hand with a half-arsed shake. “Rain Weston, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I knew I should’ve smuggled in my gun,” he grumbles quietly to Delilah.

“Grandpa,” Rome chastises.

“Dad,” Lucy scolds, gently hitting his shoulder.

Kilah and Indie step up, wrapping their arms around their grandfather’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Grandpa,” Kilah narrows her eyes on me, “we’re keeping a close eye on him.”

“He’s not as bad as he seems,” Indie adds.

Rome sighs and places Isla down before kissing my cheek and whispering in my ear, “Will you be okay?”

“Baby, I’ll be fine. Go beat the fuckers.”

Grinning, he backs away and salutes as the group chants their support. Once he disappears, Isla glares up at me, palm up. “Swear jar.”

“You aren’t conning me out of money, kid.”

Rome’s grandfather clears his throat, with an arched brow. I release a breath and slide my wallet out, slapping a five-pound note into Isla’s hand.

“It’s always the billionaires who are cheap,” Delilah grumbles.

I pin Delilah with a glare before adding a £50 note to Isla’s still outstretched hand.

“Swears are worth a lot,” Isla snickers, trying to coax more.

“Certainly not more than £55,” I counter.

“Cheap wanker,” Rome’s grandfather mutters, pulling Indie and Kilah towards the stairs.

Lucy steps beside me with a reassuring smile. “She cons everyone out of at least £20. Everyone except for Rome—apparently, he can swear like a sailor, and she waives the swear jar fee.”

A smile touches my lips as I crook my arm, and Lucy slides her hand in to take my elbow.

“I’m so excited,” Isla growls from the seat beside me, shaking her pom-poms.

“Can I have one?” I ask.

“No, get your own.” She hugs them to her chest.