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He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “They might do.”
I know exactly what he’s referring to and my hackles rise.
“Great. Fantastic. Jesus fucking Christ.”
He gives me a shhh and points upstairs in case she might be listening, and I hold my hands up in silent shock.
“Get in here, will you?” he says, and gestures back through to the kitchen.
I follow him when he marches off this time, my eyes still like daggers when he pours my fucking coffee.
“When did this happen?”
“As soon as I met her.”
“Right, ok.”
He shoots me daggers back. “Yes, right, ok. She’s not the chirpy, elegant woman you think she is. Not behind the scenes.”
“Seems not, doesn’t it?”
His smirk is evil. “Changed your opinion of her, has it? Because she’s not the perfect little angel you expected her to be? Stop being a judgmental asshole.”
I scoff at him. “Of course it hasn’t changed my opinion of her. Who Cass is, is who Cass is, and that’s entirely her choice.” I pause. “So long as it is her choice.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “As long as it’s her choice, that’s her choice, but if it isn’t…”
“Think I’m taking advantage of her, do you? Really?”
I weigh it up, picturing how happy Cass is when she’s around him. How comfortable I’ve seen them together.
“No. I don’t think that.”
“Well shut up about it then and do what I’m asking of you.”
I take my coffee, surprised, even though I shouldn’t be.
“You’ve opened the room upstairs, then?” I ask.
“Yes. Sometimes.”
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him use the den he keeps at the end of the landing. I normally excuse myself from the house while he opens it up to whatever stream of guys want to go in there.
I try to imagine Cass on that mattress, and my stomach lurches. Luckily Ant carries on to distract me.
“Gerwyn, I don’t want people turning up when she’s here alone, and I don’t want her sucked so far into bad habits that she loses control of herself and regrets it. I’ve got enough experience of that myself.”
Fucking hell. He knows how to present himself. I’m backed into a corner and don’t know how the hell to get out of it – but that’s Ant’s mastery. Getting his own way, however he wants it.
There’s no way I’m leaving with my suitcase now and risking Cass being vulnerable.
“I’ve arranged our schedules,” Ant says. “At least one of us will be here with her during the transition period from Berlin. We’ll work it out.”
“And she knows she’s at risk?”
“No. She doesn’t need to. Why freak her out over something that’s probably just paranoia on my part and nothing else? She’s fine, Ger. She loves it. She’s a filthy slut who grabbed hold of the filth from night number one. Do you think we’d be nearly so good together if she wasn’t?”
“Ok, so use a hotel room then. Why is it all about that damn room upstairs and bringing it onto your own doorstep?” I sigh. “Actually scrap that, I don’t really want to know.”
“Good. Because it’s none of your business.”
I laugh a bitter laugh because he’s pissing me off now.
“So your business is your business unless you pull me into it and want me to play along? That’s what you’re saying?”
“No. Stop twisting it and getting your self-righteous panties in a fucking knot.”
“I’m not.”
He faces me full on, eyes like steel. “Are you going to help me help Cass, or not?”
“It’s not black and white like that.”
“It is.”
I should tell him to go fuck himself, not buy into his bullshit way of looking at the world through his lens and nobody else’s but I can’t. Not with Cass at stake. I already care about her too much, so I sigh again, frustrated but resigned to it.
“Of course I’m going to help you and Cass.”
“Great. So there’s no problem, then?”
There are plenty of problems, but I’ll be better placed to help address those if the time comes from the inside and not the outside. A friend, not a spy.
I nod, because I have to. “I’ll do the best I can.”
His smile is back, in that sudden light switch change he always manages.
“Thanks, Ger. I really appreciate it.”
Like fuck he does.
I drink my coffee, then head away to get my case up into my bedroom. I’m almost out of view when he drops another bombshell on me that knocks me for six.
“Cass doesn’t know I’m telling you. She won’t want me to, so keep that confidence please. She’ll tell you if and when she’s comfortable with you.”
Here he goes with more blurry lines of hypocrisy, but I’m done arguing, since it won’t end well.
“Fine. Whatever, Ant. I’ll do what I can.”
It’s Cass’s face I picture as I climb the stairs, and it’s Cass I’m doing this for. Not the controlling, possessive tyrant in the kitchen. I’m done with his games, and his hypocrisy, and his crazy need for control.
