Tragos looked sharply at the woman, wondering again who the fuck she was in all this, how she knew Ares, how she knew him.
He knew he was not to answer that question. Ares instructions had been explicit: no one was to know. That had slipped a bit, starting with Much and spreading to the other women in the hospital today, but not because of him. He could keep his mouth shut. Tragos folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, under a poster about measles. "Fuck do you care?" He asked, almost hitting the same conversational tone as she had - though his was part of his defense, mirroring her while he tried to work her out. His walls had gone back up all the way as soon as he wasn't with Marcie.