Page 131 of Dominance

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure no one bugged our place while we were gone,” I whisper, inching through the room, checking anywhere I would hide one if I installed a listening device.

Gloria blinks twice, opening her mouth to say something, then snapping it shut.

Without another word she starts digging through drawers.

Way to put her at ease, jackass.

After thirty minutes I’m almost sure we’re clear.

“Adri.” Gloria turns me toward her, cupping my face in her hands. “You’re jumping at shadows.”

“It’s just too damn quiet. Everything went too smoothly.”

“I agree. And we’ll be careful. But it’s 4 a.m. Get some sleep. Then we’ll go see Dad.”

I flinch as she calls him that.

She should, so he won’t get even more suspicious. Doesn’t mean I have to like what it represents. How only a few days ago I couldn’t tell the difference between her good daughter act and the real Gloria.

Fuck. I’m spiraling again.

Until she pulls me into a fierce kiss, spearing her fingers into my hair. Ten seconds into it and I can’t remember where we are, let alone what I was stressing about.

Those fingers in my hair send me into a deep sleep a few minutes later, my head resting on her lap in our bed. Glorious sleep.

“Adriano.”

My eyes snap open. Feels like a few seconds, but the sun’s cutting through my blinds, golden and angled toward my eastern wall. Shit.

I slept all day.

Looking around, I try to pinpoint whose voice woke me up.

“Gloria?”

No answer.

Rising slowly, I poke my head into the bathroom, the closet.

Hm. Maybe she went across the street for a bite to eat.

Slipping into the hallway, I stay tense, strafing, keeping my guard up.

“What the …”

Out in the living room the whole place is a disaster. My couch is overturned, the bar stools, flowers Gloria put out on the table scattered.

How did I not hear this?

And where the fuck is Gloria?!

In a panic I scramble into a shirt, my pants, my car keys. Whipping out my cell, I punched her number.

Straight to voicemail.

I’m hopping through the mess with one boot in my hand, trying to wiggle on the other, when it hits me. How staged it all looks.

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