Chapter Four

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Ethan

Harry and I stayed in a hotel that night. When Harry got moody over the fact that he wouldn’t be seeing his ‘new home’ straight away, I had to calmly explain that we wouldn’t have arrived at our new house in the Hamptons until about ten at night, once everything had been covered. (Hidden cameras and microphones were scattered all over the house – we were being constantly monitored.)

Arriving at that time of night would only attract suspicion – not a great start to an undercover assignment.

Harry was grouchy after his nap on the jet – his usual wit was subdued and I knew straight away that something was bothering him. Whenever I asked, however, he would just stick a false smile on his face and roll his eyes.

“Stop worrying about me, love. I’m just anticipating our first night in the sack of our new house, eh Hilary?” He’d nudged our air-hostess suggestively, waggling his eyebrows as we departed the jet. She turned a shade of crimson. This was his response the first time I’d asked him if he was alright.

I hated, hated when he did this. Hiding away his emotions; he claimed to be the open book in our relationship, but in actual fact, he was the most reserved person I knew. I didn’t feel the need to air my every emotion – but when something was bothering me, hell, I told him!

He was the only person I told about my problems, and I was getting more frustrated at getting nothing but bad jokes and uncomfortable silences whenever I mentioned his.

The hotel we were at was five stars – this was in case we bumped into any of our future neighbours and acquaintances. If we were seen in anything less than this luxurious and overly-priced establishment, it would raise questions.

Once we reached our room, Harry turned to the porter who was wheeling our bags. A wide, fake smile on his face, he brandished a twenty dollar note.

“For you my good man – better service I have never witnessed!” he winked and placed the money into the embarrassed guy’s hand. Once he’d unloaded our bags and wheeled the cart away, Harry’s smile dropped from his face as the door closed to the hotel room. He was overwhelmed looking and his face was pale, lacking the usual optimism and mischief. Keeping up appearances on days like today was Harry’s number one priority – once nobody knows I’m hurting, it’ll be okay. That was his motto.

“Everything okay?” I asked for the fifteenth time that day. I knew that it was hopeless asking him. But I wouldn’t stop trying.

Just as expected, he smiled tiredly. “Of course I am, Moore. Jesus you’re like a broken fucking record. I’m just tired. A good night’s sleep will do the trick!”

I didn’t even respond to him. We’d already fought twice about this today and I wasn’t looking for a hat-trick.

Once we’d settled into our bed, Harry fell asleep instantly. He truly was exhausted, but I knew there was much more wrong than simply fatigue. Unable to sleep with worries of Harry and our upcoming mission in my head, I pulled out my notes and lay them across the covers.

I had memorised our every target, right down to the pets in each family that lived in our vicinity. Our neighbourhood consisted of five, huge houses. These estates of five mansions were dotted all over the area. We believed that the drug dealing began in the neighbourhood we were about to enter. The illegal substance abuse was slowly, but surely, spreading across the other prestigious neighbourhoods and containing it was near-impossible.

I gazed over at Harry’s sleeping form. We were both sleeping in a double bed – now that we were in the Hamptons, we were no longer Ethan and Harry. We were now going to be known as Nate and Rob – I, being Rob and Harry being Nate. He was still struggling with the concept. Therefore, getting a room with two separate beds would be strange for a married couple who were ‘madly and passionately in love’, as the briefing put it.

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