Page 118 of Strangers in my Bed


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“You aren’t going ANYWHERE,” Ant snaps. “You work for ME. You live with ME. THAT’S how it is.”

I get a shiver of goosebumps at the possessiveness in his tone. It brings back the many times in the past that I’ve asked if he wants me to move out. Every time, he brushed it aside like it would be pointless. Every time, he held firm that it would be a stupid idea that’s not even vaguely on the table. But never like this. Never so aggressively.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask him, gently this time. “Ant, is there something happening here I don’t know about?”

“Fuck,” he replies, and there quite obviously is.

All thoughts of his outburst are forgotten in me now that I see him on edge like this. I head to his side and put my hand on his back.

“Ant, talk to me.”

He lets out a breath, then lowers his voice to more of a whisper. “I need your help, Ger, alright? I hate asking for shit from anyone outside of work, but I’m going to need it.”

“Sure,” I reply, all hostility done and buried. “Just tell me, what do you need me to do?”

He shoots a glance towards the hall and staircase, and I guess he’s looking for signs of Cass.

“I’m worried about her.”

“Worried how?”

My brain is churning on overdrive, trying to picture it… because Cass seems great, she seems fine.

“I want someone here with her when I’m not,” he says. “And the only person I trust is you.”

“Someone here with her? But you’ll be here with her full-time soon enough.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I won’t be, and you know it. I’ll be all over the place with this new role, no matter how much I try to base myself in Malvern.”

“But you can cut back from that a bit, and I’m sure Cass will understand.”

“I don’t want her to understand,” Ant says with another hiss of a whisper. “I want her to be looked after.”

My mind is still whirring… because what… looked after from what?

“She has no friends,” Ant points out. “No intelligent ones, anyway. Janie is just a little brat of a kid who is holding her back.”

It makes no sense to me. Janie is really nice and sure isn’t doing Cass any harm, and I’d tell him so, if he didn’t keep talking.

“She eats unhealthily when I’m not here, and she’s drinking a lot more now, and pushing herself with work.”

“Yes, ok, so?”

“I want someone to be around for her when I’m not. I want someone to keep a check on it.”

Here it comes. Control. Possessiveness. I’ve seen this side of him before.

“Please don’t tell me you want me to keep an eye on Cass and report back to you? That’s exactly the kind of thing you just gave me a bollocking for, so don’t be a hypocrite.”

“I’m not being a hypocrite. I’m not about to get trashed and scream at her over it.”

I feel my temper being triggered.

“Fuck off, Ant. That’s being a hypocrite. Double standards.”

“It’s not the same thing,” he begins, but I laugh at him, because it’s so bloody ridiculous.

“Are you out of your mind? It’s exactly the same thing. I’m not a spy and I’m not infringing on someone’s rights of privacy. I may have done it with you accidentally, but I’d never do it with intent.”

“Here we go.” He rolls his eyes. “Infringing on rights, la la la fucking la. Don’t start up with that bullshit, Gerwyn, I’m trying to ask you for help.”

“And I’ll give you help,” I say. “But I won’t be fucking anyone over to do that, and I definitely won’t be reporting what time Cass is going to bed, let alone what she’s eating and what Janie’s been talking to her about at work. Because that’s what this is Ant. It’s about control.”

“Fuck off,” he hisses. “Is it fuck.”

I fold my arms, leaning back against the counter, because the crusader side of me has been set in motion, and I’m not going to tolerate any super spy bullshit at all. He’s done this before – spying on people, judging everything they do, so I’m not going to help him. Not outside work at least, and definitely not with his own girlfriend.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “This dynamic isn’t going to work, and I’m not being some kind of domestic special forces agent, so I’m going to move out.”

He tries to grab my arm on the way past but I shrug him off. I don’t listen to him hissing my name and ordering me back to the kitchen, I just keep on walking towards my suitcase until he says the fated words. Words I should have known were coming.

“I need to make sure nobody turns up here.”

I turn to face him, eyes like daggers.

“I see. And people are likely to turn up here, are they?”

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