Chapter Six

Ethan

The small white ball steered towards the triangular red flag and I threw my hands up in astonishment.

“You claim to be a beginner but that shot says otherwise!” I accused Hugh as he lowered his golf club that I assumed cost more than I could imagine.

He laughed and shook his head, handing the club back to one of the two caddies who were accompanying us – I had argued that I could carry my own rented golf clubs, but Hugh had insisted. I wasn’t one to turn down an offer like that so I eventually happily obliged.

I could get used to living like this, the lifestyle was rubbing off on me – but I had to remind myself of what many people did to get this rich. Corruptness and greed were two things I hated. These two things were detrimental in gaining a life of luxury, particularly with this crowd of people.

We started walking alongside the huge stunning lake that hugged the edge of the golf course. I had already lost two balls in that damned lake – whoever designed this course ought to be shot.

Hugh and I had organised this outing at the Collins’ a week ago during that night of drinks. I shuddered at the memory – Harry had gotten completely wasted and resulted in the hangover of all times the next morning. Harry and hangovers should not exist in the same sentence.

I was quite surprised at how fast we were able to schedule a match at this golf course – it was highly sought after and many had to book months in advance. Hugh knew the current president, however, making our match quite easy to book. I hated that I was beginning to admire his connections and power. I was a focused person, though, and reminding myself of why I was here made it easy to quench this admiration.

“It’s a pity Nate couldn’t come,” Hugh commented as we neared my ball. I wasn’t a golfer and this was evident in my poor shots. My golf ball had to be a least fifty meters away from his and, embarrassingly, the hole.

“Yeah,” I murmured, my mind clouding over with the mere mention of him.

Things had changed for good yesterday – there was no going back. We had both said things that couldn’t be unsaid – particularly on my part.

“Where did you say he was going today? Manhattan?” Hugh persisted. He had been genuinely disappointed when Harry couldn’t make it. I couldn’t help it – I was starting to like Hugh’s personality more and more as I got to know him. I’d seen him frequently over the past week whenever he wasn’t working and so far, he seemed genuinely nice. I had studied human behaviours seriously over the past few years at the agency, in between cases. I knew when someone was full of shit – and I didn’t think Hugh was.

He didn’t seem the type to be so closely linked to a drug’s supplier. Then again, what is the type? A dodgy looking guy with tattoo’s all over his body and a cigarette in his mouth?

I’d learned to stop believing in stereotypes long ago when working in Milan. I’d learned the hard way when it turned out that our main target wasn’t the balding, expensive suit-wearing, adulterous businessman, but his twenty-two year old blonde wife who had made herself out to be a ditz. She had been the criminal mastermind and had ultimately gotten away.

“Yeah, we have a business meeting with a potential investor – we’re branching out into bed linen,” I rolled my eyes as if this was the most boring topic ever. In the briefing it had been clear that Rob Foxx took a laid-back perspective on the business and allowed Nate to make all of the big decisions.

Hugh laughed and stopped walking when we reached my ball. “That sounds... interesting.” His attempt at a compliment had us both laughing.

“It really isn’t... which is why I’m on a golf course with you right now instead of discussing colours and textures... Give me strength!” I joked, taking a club from my caddy and sizing it up against the ball.

“Here, you’re still holding it all wrong!” Hugh frowned at my handling of the club, “Move your hands down more... No that’s too far... Put your thumb back... Why did you change your posture? Your arms are all wrong now!” His continuous commands left me in a tizzy so I just dropped my arms to my side.

“I give up! You win! Let’s just go get some drinks.”

Hugh chuckled and walked towards me. “Oh, stop being such a baby and let me show you how it’s done.”

He walked until he was standing right in front of me, his eyes frowning in concentration at my hands on the club. Gingerly, he reached out and readjusted my handling of it. I stared at the grass below me, unsure where to look.

“There. Don’t move a finger,” he warned, walking behind me, “Now, your posture... Bring your feet further apart... Yep that’s enough! Now bend slightly... a bit more... perfect!”

His hands were on my shoulders then, pushing them forward slightly. I smiled awkwardly.

“Am I good to go?”

“Fire away!” he laughed, standing back.

I took a few practice swings before I connected with the ball. It went further than it ever had and I let out a loud laugh of shock. “Fucking hell, that’s amazing!”

“Alright, alright, don’t get too cocky now. I’m still winning,” he chuckled as we set off walking again.

We played for another half an hour until we reached the ninth hole – Hugh decided we wouldn’t do the full eighteen today as my arms were getting sore and he was exhausted from travelling all day yesterday for business reasons.

We decided to go for a drink up in the cocktail bar before leaving – I ordered a Heineken which cost ten bucks. Ten bucks! Did the bartender come with it?

Hugh laughed when I voiced this but I realised my blunder – I wasn’t supposed to be shocked at the cost of things. I was Rob Foxx – prices didn’t matter to me. I would have to be more careful in the future.

“So you had a busy day yesterday?” I asked him. Getting to know him and his business was critical – if Captain Dawson and his advisors were right, Hugh was the main connection between the dealers and the suppliers. I seemed to be on the right track into getting to know him and gaining his trust so now was the right time to get down to business.

He rolled his eyes, taking a gulp of his Guinness – I was shocked at his order of the Irish stout. I had taken him to be a whiskey on the rocks kind of man.

“I was on the red-eye the night before on my way back to London to finalise a deal. Then I had to make my way to Portugal to meet with a client who holds all of his functions at one of my clubs. He’s not the kind of guy you can simply Skype,” Hugh laughed, “And then I was back on a plane from Portugal to JFK. Once I’d checked out my new club on the Upper East Side, to make sure all was running smoothly, I then got to come home to sleep!”

I widened my eyes and shook my head incredulously. “Jesus – how do you do this all of the time? Why couldn’t you extend you trip to make it less, I don’t know, frantic?”

“I had to be back for a meeting tonight... and besides, I’d scheduled our golf match.” He smiled and took another gulp of his drink.

This threw me slightly but I refocused on my mind. He’d mentioned London, Portugal and New York. In twenty-four hours he’d been in three different countries – this couldn’t be just for upscale clubs. They didn’t meet the criteria for this extensive amount of travelling in such a short space of time, not for anybody!

“Was it nice to be back in London?” I asked him.

His smile fell slightly. So slightly the untrained eye wouldn’t notice – but my years of human behavioural studies were becoming more and more useful. What had happened in London?

“Yeah, it was.” He replied simply.

“Did you get to meet with any family or friends?” I persisted. I was sure that there was something about London that was bothering him – or someone.

He hesitated before shaking his head. “No, I’d no time. Business trips rarely leave any recreational time, unfortunately.”

His hesitation before answering my last question told me he was hiding something. I decided to end my path of inquiry there – I didn’t want to seem overly-curious. This could make him suspicious.

Once we’d finished our drinks we drove back – we’d taken his car so I was given time to ponder our conversation on the drive. We chatted casually and easily but as we neared our neighbourhood, my stomach started knotting.

Harry would probably be back from his ‘business meeting’ by now. He had in fact gone into New York, but this was to meet with associates from the agency who wanted a briefing on how our case was going. This would happen once every week – only high-priority cases were given this kind of attention.

“Will I see you two at the opening on Friday?” Hugh asked when he pulled up in front of my gate. His club on the Upper East Side was having its grand opening in two days time – everyone from the neighbourhood was attending. I was still adjusting to how close the people here were. They were like a family – a bitching, gossiping, back-stabbing family, but a family none the less. Normal neighbourhoods didn’t act like this.

“Of course! We wouldn’t miss it,” I smiled.

“Great. See you then!” He gave a honk of his horn as he sped back towards his gates once I’d hopped out. I took a deep breath before punching in the code for the gate. My heart raced when I saw Harry’s Ferrari parked in the driveway. He was indeed home from New York.

I walked as slowly as I could without looking silly to the house and was met with quietness when I closed the front door behind me. Maybe he was out in the pool?

I entered the kitchen and threw my things up on the island in the middle, lost in my thoughts of how I was going to approach Harry. We hadn’t spoken since last night – what would we say to one another? Would he even speak to me?

“Hi.”

I jumped and spun around. Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with a beer in his hand.

“Hi,” I replied slowly, leaning against the counter.

“How was today?”

He was acting odd – his eyes were dull and his voice was uninterested. I knew that things weren’t okay. He was still hurt. And I didn’t blame him.

“It was fine... what about you? Who was there to meet you?” I wanted to keep the topic away from last night. I wanted to stay on safe territory.

“Dawson was there himself. It went fine. I told him about everyone. He wants us to focus more on Kyle and Stephanie Brant since we’ve only seen them once since we’ve gotten here.”

We had bumped into and met our final neighbours three days ago when they were out walking their six-month old twins. They seemed friendly and naive – a couple straight out of an episode of 90210. They were young and carefree – this was evident when one of their babies started crying and Stephanie summoned the nanny, who was walking behind them, instead of tending to her herself.

“Jesus, Dawson went himself? This must be one of the top cases at the moment, so.” It was very rare that Dawson ever made the briefing trips.

“Yep – he kept asking me how I was dealing with the neighbours and feeling about it, it was weird... He seemed particularly interested in Lawman, which isn’t a surprise. I told him that Lawman was your area, though, so you’ll probably get a phone call this evening about how your date went today.”

Annoyance flashed through me as it had last night. This is what had started the argument. His obvious jealousy of Hugh and his reluctance to admit it. Instead, he started arguments so he could take out his jealousy and resentment there.

“Can we please just drop that argument – please, Harry? I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired of fighting and walking on eggshells. I don’t want a repeat of last night...  ever.” I was surprising myself with my words – so much for avoiding any talk of last night.

He stood up and walked to the sink, pouring the rest of his beer down it. His head was slightly hung and I knew that he wasn’t just this hurt over me and Hugh. I had said a horrible thing to him and I didn’t know how to apologise. I had tried last night but he’d locked his bedroom door and ignored my knocking and pleading. He’d gone to New York this morning before I woke, even though I’d set my alarm as early as six.

“I’m so sorry for what I said to you, Harry. Please, you have to believe how sorry I am. For all of it.” I gulped back the lump in my throat. He put the bottle into the sink but kept his back turned to me, gripping the edge of the counter-tops until his knuckles turned white.

His posture was stiff and defensive – one I’d never seen. I’d caused this. If I had kept my anger under control and my thoughts to myself, this wouldn’t be happening.

But at the same time, a small part of me was happy to have the elephant in the room out on display – at least one of the elephants.

“It’s okay.” His voice was weak and I knew he didn’t mean it.

“Stop it – stop shutting me out. It’s what caused this fight in the first place. I thought we were best friends? I thought –...”

“You thought what?” he snapped, turning around, “You thought that you could do a background check on me and know all of this shit about me and then bring it up to use against me?”

His eyes were glistening and I was stumped. He was right. I should have told him that I knew what had happened to him as a child. I should have brought it up gently, in an environment where he felt safe. Not shout it out in the middle of an argument that was becoming more and more heated.

“I know,” I whispered.

“That part of my life is over, Ethan. I want it to stay that way. No more questions – no more fucking analysing my every word and thought! I don’t want you to ever bring him up again. Do you understand me?”

Harry’s voice was trembling and I’d never seen him like this – it was almost scaring me but more than anything, it was breaking my heart. Nodding I walked towards him, trying to close some of the distance between us.

“I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry.” I wasn’t only apologising for bringing up his father in our argument. I was apologising for what I knew his father had done, to both Harry and his mother.

Harry wiped away a tear that threatened to spill out and shrugged his shoulders gruffly. “Let’s just forget about it.”

I didn’t want that. I didn’t want that at all. But now wasn’t the time – I hadn’t realised how traumatised Harry still was. I knew he relied on his humour to keep him sane but his reaction now, I hadn’t expected. I would try my best to fix him – it would be a long and slow process, but I would be there for him when he was ready to talk. I couldn’t force him to – the consequences of that were apparently disastrous.

“Can we hug it out?” I smiled hopefully, holding out my arms and trying to lighten the mood. I wasn’t one for hugging – Harry usually just latched onto me and I tried to pry him off after thirty seconds. This was probably the first time I was ever offering him a hug.

It wasn’t because I didn’t want to hug him – it was because I didn’t trust myself just to hug him.

His eyes lit up at the sight of my out-stretched arms. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he chuckled. He didn’t hug me straight away, leaving me standing there awkwardly. I even considered dropping my arms when he suddenly lunged towards me, enveloping me tightly with his arms.

Things would probably go back to normal now – as normal as they could, anyway. I had been so close to telling him that I was in love with him last night. He kept on giving me hassle over Hugh and our apparent ‘relationship’. I wanted to strangle and kiss him at the same time. He was so blind... so frustratingly blind.

We hugged for a good minute or two... I couldn’t help but smell his hair as I pressed my face against his neck. I felt him still at this action, however. I thought I’d been discreet, but obviously not. Fuck... I’d gone too far. This was why I didn’t like hugging him – I could never just hug him.

I frowned in confusion when he pulled his face back to look at me, our noses nearly touching. Holy shit – what was happening? Why was he looking at me like that with such intensity?

“Harry –...” I started but wasn’t given the opportunity to finish when he was pulling away.

“Thanks for the hug, buddy. Now for some pool time... you coming?” he had his carefree voice back and his eyes weren’t as dull anymore. It was as if someone had flicked a switch and he had turned all the memories and sadness off.

This wasn’t healthy. I saw the way he looked at me there – what was that? I didn’t dare think it meant what I thought it meant? No. Harry was straight – a fact he’d confirmed many times over the years.

Maybe I had imagined it – Harry always got what he wanted. He went after it until it was his. Surely if he truly wanted me, he’d have had me years ago. The thought of him having me brought a shiver up my spine.

“Ethan? You coming?” I realised I hadn’t answered his question and just shook my head, in a daze.

“Your loss!” he grinned, leaving through the patio doors to the pool. I saw his face fall once he thought he was out of sight and when he was in the pool, instead of the messing around he usually did, he just floated on his back and stared at the sky.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Had I said something last night that had truly and irrevocably damaged our friendship? I didn’t think so – he had forgiven me just there, right?

I thought back to last night, when the argument began...

-       -

“Where are you going, cowboy?” Harry asked me as I searched the kitchen cabinets for my water bottle. Why did he always call me cowboy? It made no sense – I was brought up in California!

“For a run... Wanna come?”

He laughed and turned down whatever he was watching on his laptop. “I think I’ll pass.”

“You’ll have to start doing some form of exercise... Can’t have you getting fat,” I teased.

His eyebrows shot up, “Fuck you, I’m out in that pool everyday!” I was momentarily thrown – I’d forgotten about the damn pool. He did make a point of swimming every day, which I had to admit, was already showing with the defining of the muscles in his arms.

“Oh yes, Hugh did say something about the sounds of young boy playing in the pool everyday – he can hear it from his kitchen,” I chuckled.

Harry rolled his eyes at the mention of Hugh’s name. Shit – it was a mistake bringing him up.

“Tell your boyfriend if he has a problem, he should move – preferably to a different country,” Harry wrinkled his nose as if Hugh was a bad smell.

“How many times – he’s not my boyfriend!” This topic had been brought up multiple times and I was at my wits end.

“Oh yeah? So why are you blushing, then?” Harry challenged. Yes, my face had reddened slightly – but in annoyance.

“Because you’re fucking annoying me, that’s why.” I continued my search for the damned water bottle.

“Why can’t you just admit that you like him? That’s what I want to know!” Harry was on a mission, I could tell by his voice – he wouldn’t stop until he heard what he wanted to hear.

“Fine – I like the guy!” That wasn’t technically a lie – I was starting to find Hugh more likeable.

“Are you serious?! He’s a fucking druggie, Ethan!” Here we go – Harry’s jealousy at me not being at his beck and call all of the time was coming out once again.

“Fine, I don’t like him,” I sighed.

“Stop backtracking because I’ve caught you out, Moore!” Harry stood up and walked to me, hands crossed, eyes blazing. I guessed this had been building up for a while.

“Harry, why can’t you just admit that you’re jealous?” I decided to play this game too. I wasn’t going to back down so easily. Maybe I had questions I wanted answers to.

He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, seemingly appalled at my accusation. “As if! I just want you to face facts, my dear friend.”

“I think that you’re jealous that I’ll prefer Hugh over you.” I commented casually.

“I never knew that was even a possibility until now!” Harry frowned, scoffing.

“What? It’s not! Just – fuck’s sake just drop it, Harry!” I was tired of this argument already and a nice long run was what I needed to loosen up.

“I just don’t get why you like him so much!” his voice was raising.

“I don’t.”

“You clearly do!”

I was about to snap. “Harry. Stop.”

“Just tell me why – ”

“Harry, I don’t fucking like him, Jesus are you that blind?!” I shouted.

I saw his eyes blazing at my raise voice and I knew things were going to kick off – we rarely fought, but when we did, it was explosive.

“Blind?! Blind?! I’ve got such clarity, I can nearly see through walls, Ethan!” he roared back.

I frowned in confusion, dragging my fingers through my hair. “What? That makes no sense!”

“Yeah well, things haven’t been making sense between us for a while!” he retorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I was getting angrier.

“It means that you’ve been acting strange for a while now and this mission has made this clearer – what’s your fucking problem? Just because you’re gay for Hugh doesn’t mean you can start acting like a faggot!”

I was silenced at this remark. What had he just called me? I could see that he was regretting what he’d said instantly, but didn’t want me to know it. He jutted out his jaw in an effort to look mean, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. I was beyond sympathising with him though. I was livid.

I wanted to hurt him, just like he’d hurt me.

“Maybe I am gay for him. Maybe I think his charm and good looks make me forget that he could be a drug dealer...” I started walking towards Harry, a vein in my forehead twitching, “Maybe it’s because he actually takes things seriously and doesn’t make a fucking joke out of everything because he can’t deal with his past – ...” I stopped talking instantly. What the fuck was I doing? I couldn’t bring that up, no matter how angry I was. I wasn’t supposed to know about Harry’s childhood! I needed to keep my cool. Calm down Ethan.

Harry’s face, however, had paled even further than it had been when I was walking towards him. “Can’t deal with what past?”

“Nothing – just forget it.” I was panicking and had to get out of this house. Fuck the water bottle, I’d go without it!

“No. Can’t deal with what past?” Harry’s voice had a deadly tone to it and I’d rarely heard him speak like that.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about... I just meant that you don’t take things seriously enough sometimes!” I pulled on my running jacket and started towards the front door.

“Get the fuck back here.” I stopped straight away. His chilling words had me rooted to the spot and I knew that no matter how far I ran, I couldn’t outrun this. I had made my bed – now I had to lie in it.

“What do you know?” Harry walked in front of me, no traces of humour in his face.

I swallowed hard, giving him a pleading look. “Harry, I don’t know anything.”

He didn’t speak and instead just stared at me, once again waiting for the answer he wanted. He knew when I was lying.

“I didn’t mean to bring it up – I didn’t bring it up!” I tried to cover myself, to salvage the situation. But the implications behind what I’d said were clear as day – I knew that Harry couldn’t deal with the past. Of what had happened to him and his mother.

Of how his father had abandoned him when he was two, leaving him with a bitch of a mother who blamed Harry every day for his father’s departure. And when his father eventually returned, it wasn’t long before he’d beat his mother to death and kidnapped Harry, bringing him on the run.

Nobody knows what happened when Harry was with his father during those days. Physical and emotional torture were among the guesses. This had all be in Harry’s private file that I’d hacked into. The file that was supposed to remain confidential; the file Harry believed a secret to everyone – including me.

“How do you know about this?” Harry asked darkly, his lip trembling slightly.

I looked at him before answering, wondering how to phrase it. Fuck it, no matter how I phrased it, it still meant the same thing. “A few years ago I looked at your file.”

It was a simple, short sentence. But it was having a profound effect on Harry, who’s eyes were bulging and lips whitening. “You what?”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I just... I couldn’t handle your moods anymore – I needed to know what was triggering them – to figure out how I could help! I hated seeing you like that. Back then, you got them so much more than you do now. You have to understand – ...”

“What I understand is that my best friend went behind my back, looked at my confidential files and has known secrets about me for as long as he’s known me. What I know is that I had been given the same opportunity – there was a day when I was left alone in the Agent Files room, purely by accident. And I had walked to your filing cabinet. I’d scrolled along the names until I came to Moore. And you know what I did? I stopped. I didn’t open your private files. I decided that when the time came, you would tell me. I respected you enough not to do it.” His voice was eerily stoic and I couldn’t tell where this was going.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you... I love you, Harry!” I waited to see his reaction – I had said those three words. Those three words I’d never uttered to anyone before in my life. Did he understand the meaning behind them? I doubted it. I would have to be clearer.

“Friends who love each other don’t do this. I trusted you.” His voice was bitter and he turned away from me, heading for the stairs.

“Harry, you don’t understand – ...” I started.

“No, I understand perfectly. But just because I understand doesn’t mean I accept it. Now kindly, fuck off, Ethan.” I’d never heard him so vicious before. I had never felt so helpless and utterly devastated before.

“I hate what your father did to you – I hate that you’re like this because of that bastard!” I said to him from the bottom of the stairs. He stilled on the step he was on, turning around to face me slowly. His eyes were full of tears.

“Don’t ever talk about him in my presence again – ever.”

With those chilling words, he continued up the stairs and slammed the door shut to the room we’d been sharing for the past week. I hadn’t slept in the spare bedroom since the first night, but I was guessing tonight I would be reappearing there.

I tried knocking on his bedroom door – I even tried kicking it down. But it was no use. I retreated to the spare room, leaving the door to it open for Harry to come in if he wanted to. When I woke up to the space beside empty and cold, it hurt more than I thought it would.

-       -

I brought my mind back to the present, staring out at Harry, who was now swimming laps. I just wanted to hold him – to hold him until I’d extracted all of the sadness and terror from him. But things didn’t work that way. If only it was that simple.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the buzzer to the gate went off. I groaned. I didn’t want to see anybody right now. I was in no mood for company.

“Yes?” I said through the phone that connected to the speaker at the gate.

“It’s Hudson’s Gardening Service, sir. We’re here for our weekly appointment.” It was the first time I’d meet the gardener – I would make sure I could trust him before allowing him to come here regularly. I knew the agency had probably checked him out, but my own gut feeling was what I relied on.

“Okay, I’ll buzz you in.”

I opened the front door and watched the small, white van with flowers printed along the side of it pull into the driveway. The man who came out of the van was a large, muscular man with a shaved haircut. He looked like a body builder who did gardening in his spare time – it was bizarre.

There was something familiar about him, though. He was wearing a baseball cap and kept his head down, so his face was hidden. It wasn’t until he was almost right in front of me that it hit me.

“George?” I asked incredulously.

He raised his head and winked. “Who’s George? I’m the gardener. Now where’s my garden?”

I was stumped. They were sending in another agent this early? Things must be progressing.

Once George and I were inside, he took off his hat.

“How are you here?” I patted his shoulder and walked him into the kitchen. He whistled as he looked around, chuckling.

“A guy could get used to this,” he commented.

“I know,” I laughed, glad I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Where’s Harold?” George asked, looking around. He was the weirdest looking gardener – surely Dawson could have sent in someone less... big?

“Outside in the pool – he’s not in a great mood.”

George knew all about Harry’s moods. He didn’t know why they happened, he just knew that they happened.

Nodding knowingly, George looked out of the window I was looking out of. Harry was floating in the pool again, staring at the sky.

“I’m here to keep an eye on next door.” George muttered.

“The Jeffersons?” I assumed Grant was the guy being focused on as I’d sent information back during the week of my suspicions on him and my lack thereof on Hugh.

“No. Hugh Lawman. I can’t tell you why,” his eyes darted to Harry, “but it’s big.”

I knew it – the agency were withholding information from us. I frowned at George. Why was he telling me this? It could compromise the entire operation.

He seemed to read my mind and grabbed an envelope on our counter, taking a pen from the front pocket of his gardener’s uniform.

‘Can’t tell you what I know. All I can tell you is to keep an eye on Harry – he’s in danger.’

My eyes widened and I went to grab the note, but George already had it balled up and held over a flame from a lighter he had in his pocket. He dropped the burning ball of fire into the kitchen sink.

He brought his fingers to his ears and then pointed to objects around the house. I’d almost forgotten about the listening devices installed around various parts of the house. I closed my eyes when I realised they’d heard mine and Harry’s argument – would they know we’d been sleeping in the same bed?

“I’ll get started out the back – I need to say hi to Harry anyway,” George gave me another warning looking and walked out of the kitchen.

I stood in the same spot for about five minutes, trying to gather my thoughts. If George was warning me specifically that Harry was in danger, it must be beyond the normal dangers associated with missions.

What the hell was going on? How was Harry in danger – and who was in danger from?

So there you have it...Chapter Six!

I’m so happy that this story is being read and enjoyed by so many of you – thank you so much for all of the votes and comments, I really appreciated everyone one of them!!

What are your thoughts on this chapter? A lot happened and a lot is yet to come... why do you think Harry is in danger?

Anyway, hope you all are enjoying your Christmas or holidays or whatever you’re doing! Happy New Year... let’s make 2015 a good one!

-O.