Undercover (Boyxboy)

Chapter Seven

Harry

The day of Lawman’s grand opening came faster than I’d liked. I had tried to get out of going, but firstly, Ethan wouldn’t hear of it. Secondly, it also was one of the most important events in our mission to date – Dawson would probably be a little peeved if I stayed home watching Grey’s Anatomy instead of attending.

Tonight was the night where all of Lawman’s contacts would be on full display to us. All of our neighbours were attending and this would also give us the opportunity to suss out who they were networking. Operatives from the agency had already rigged the club with undetectable cameras – this footage would show us exactly who the people Lawman and also Grant Jefferson associated with. These were our two main suspects and they needed to be monitored accordingly.

The event started at nine sharp and it was already six. The drive to New York City, where the club was located, took at least two hours. Allowing for traffic and parking, that gave us half an hour to get ready. Ethan was still in the shower and I was running around the master bedroom, trying to match outfits. Nate Foxx didn’t leave the house in just anything. I was still trying to uncover how we had let ourselves get so far behind on time – it was especially unlike Ethan to be so last minute. Then again, he’d been distracted lately.

The days since the confrontation between Ethan and I were tense to say the least – even with Georgie here to relieve some of the awkward silences and to receive the butt end of the jokes I’d been building up since we arrived in the Hamptons.

I’d been relieved beyond words when Georgie came sauntering out to me that day when I was in the pool. He was the much needed distraction that allowed Ethan and I to avoid any topic of the fight – which was marvellous. I could sense that I was the only one who held this opinion, however. Ethan was struggling to keep his annoyance and frustration in check – this was evident from the duration of his evening runs.

He used exercise as a distracting mechanism – running seemed to be his preference these days. He’d be gone for almost three hours some times. I couldn’t fathom how exercise caused anything but more grief – I could practically feel the disgusting, sickly sweat on my back whenever he returned, wheezing for air. No thank you.

Georgie was scheduled to come only twice a week for two hours maximum. The first day he’d arrived, the three of us were able to laugh and chat for a while, under the guise that we were helping him ‘settle in’. He came again yesterday however, and this time a mere five minutes was spent in the kitchen chatting before he went out into the garden.

Those were the only times when Ethan and I properly had a conversation this week – either with Georgie or about him. We’d made a few appearances around the neighbourhood, meeting and chatting with the neighbours that we happened to bump into. We also took the cars out for a couple of hours a day, allowing people to believe we were on business trips to New York City and so forth.

In reality, I would just drive and drive, letting the thoughts I struggled so hard to ignore take over my mind. Ethan had suggested that we do something together on these days, saying it was silly that we were taking two different cars. I had declined, citing ‘I had shit to do’.

I hated whenever Ethan and I fought, but now knowing that he knew all this shit about me, it made me feel so weak and vulnerable. I didn’t know how to properly act around him anymore. Was he psycho-analysing my every move? Did any fleeting emotion that crossed my face make him pity or judge me more? Did Ethan laugh along at my joking behaviour but secretly make a mental note of what I’d just said, in case it was relevant to any future breakdown I may have? Had our entire relationship been built on concern and pity?