Page 173 of Oleander

“I don’t want dessert,” he said. “I think we should get the bill.”

“I’d like dessert,” Blackwell said, his eyes not leaving mine.

My voice was lively when I said. “Me too; I bloody love dessert.”

I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, though I could not now tell you what it was, and ate it slowly while glaring at the piece of shit sitting opposite me.

Gideon waffled on about French cheese while Cas drank his wine. When he set it down and stood, saying he was going to the bathroom, he turned his body and knocked his splint against the glass. It toppled his red wine straight into Blackwell’s lap. The pervert shot to his feet, eyes dark and voice violent. “You stupid, fucking idiot,” he growled at Cas.

Cas, before my eyes, shrank back, face paling with fright.

I shot to my feet. “What did you just fucking call him?!” I was rounding the table towards Blackwell, but I felt Cas pull me back.

“Jude, please don’t,” Cas said, but his voice was very far away.

We were about the same height, Xavier Blackwell and I, and about similar builds, though I suspected he was fitter. I didn’t care.

“What did you call him?” I asked again.

People were now staring, but I didn’t care about this either.

“Oh, for the love of god, sit down,little boy,” Blackwell said, dabbing at his crotch with a napkin.

“Little boy?” I laughed, coldly. “Oh, well, then I should be careful you don’t try and fuck me, I suppose.”

He froze at this, lifting his black glare to mine. It was murderous. He took a slow step toward me, and Cas pushed himself between us.

“I would urge you to be very,verycareful what you say next,” he said implicitly.

“Darling, let’s go, please. I think we should leave now.” This was Cas, his voice soft and soothing. I’d never heard it likethat before, and I could only blink in horror when I realised he wasn’t talking to me, but Xavier.

I watched in a daze as he slid a hand around Blackwell’s waist and pulled him away from me, away from the table, and out of the restaurant. When I came back to my senses, I charged after them. I heard Gideon shouting my name as I went.

Outside in the street, I saw Cas opening the door of a black taxi, Xavier practically shoving him inside. I called out to him, running a little way after the taxi, but it pulled out into the busy London traffic and was soon lost to the lights and engine noise. I flagged down my own, and gave them Gideon’s address, playing over every second of the dinner in my head. I knew what I’d seen, what it meant, and I felt ill from it. Furious at myself for being so fucking blind. It had been in front of me the entire time. How had I so readily ignored it?

I thought about the hollow sound of his voice when he’d told me everything was fine, when he’d told me how last minute his coming to London had been, when he’d told me in too much detail about the tennis match where’d he’d broken his hand. Imagining Blackwell’s face, I punched the seat of the taxi, ignoring the way the driver watched me in his rear-view mirror.

I’d kill him for this. I was going to kill Xavier Blackwell. He’d put his hands on Cas,my Cas, and I was going to murder him for it.

Twenty-four

Though they’d gotten a head start, they weren’t at home when I got there, sending me into a spiral of panic.

I called his phone, which rang before going to voicemail. I rang it seven or eight more times before it went straight to voicemail without ringing at all. When I heard the front door opening, I ran toward it only to find it was Gideon.

He shot me a pitying look. “Come and have a drink with me, Jude.”

“Where is he?” I demanded. “Where are they?”

Xavier hadn’t had a suitcase when they’d arrived earlier, that thought had only occurred to me when I’d gone to Cas’s room to see if they were there. That meant he had a hotel or a flat somewhere in London. That’s where they’d gone.

“I think it’s best if you calm down before you do something you regret.” He laid a hand on my shoulder as he passed, fatherly almost, and went into the living room.

“How am I supposed to calm down when Cas is somewhere withhim?” I needed to tell him, though I was sure Cas would hate me for it. I followed after him, speaking quickly as anxiety rose in my chest. “You don’t get it, Gideon, I think he’s going to hurt him. Iknowhe is. I think Xavier was the one who broke his hand. I need to get to him, Gideon. You don’t understand.”

He was pouring something dark into a very small wine glass. Port. Gideon never missed his after-dinner glass of port.

“Oh, Jude, there’s very little I don’t understand.” When he turned, he had a very strange smile on his face. He took a small, careful sip of port. “You know that by now.”