When do I call it?
I didn’t have all day, and if it was possible to hide my deceit, I would prefer to. Because I knew one thing for sure: Dom was going to make good on her promise to ruin me.
God only knew what that entitled. Dom was endlessly cruel and distant, I had no idea what sick, twisted torture I’d endure under her hands. But the pulsing between my legs seemed to be telling me to fuck around and find out.
I rolled my eyes at my body. If I was attracted to women, I certainly wasn’t going to be attracted to a brute like Dom.
How much fucking longer could this take?
“62.” The women at the front desk called out.
Thank god.
Smiling, I approached the woman and leaned against the desk. “Hi, how are you?”
“Fine, what can I do for you?” Her name tag read Clara. And it was clear that working in this office was pure torture.
Clearing my throat, I put on my best soft voice. “Well, I just got married and moved in with my wife. But she doesn’t know any of the history of her house, and I was just curious to know more about it.”
The thought of being married to Dom made me want to laugh out loud. But it felt like the kind of inquiry any staffer would believe.
Letting out a deep sigh, Clara turned to her computer screen. “Street address?”
I had hardly taken note of the street signs while on the back of Leo or Spencer’s bikes, unable to read shit as they careened down the road.
But I closed my eyes and clicked my tongue, picturing the mail on the kitchen counter. “133 Haven Court.”
The woman raised an eyebrow at me, suspicious that I wouldn’t immediately remember the street address of my new home.
“Right.” She got to typing, not paid enough to question my motives.
Maintaining my smile, I tried to shift my weight to peek at her screen.
“Oh…” Clara started, cutting herself off quickly. Her eyes flicked across the screen, taking in the information as she turned the monitor further from my prying glance.
Stern, Clara shook her head. “No records.”
“What?”
“Nothing here.” Clara looked up from her screen, folding her hands in front of her.
“Well that can’t be right…” I tried, hoping the kind smile and patience would pay off for me.
Standing from her seat, Clara shook her head. “It is. Good evening.”
Before I could press further, she disappeared into the back and my eyes caught the clock behind the counter.
I have to move. Now.
Luckily, my body understood the urgency before my mind could catch up. Taking a brisk pace out of the Recorder’s office, I didn’t break out into a full sprint until the glass door closed behind me. I’d let fifteen minutes pass, far too much time.
Fuck. Shit.
As I passed the elevators, I tried to see if the DA’s door was open but there was no telling. Either way, my captors weren’t in the hallway which meant one of two things: I’d gotten away with it or…
They were already hunting the streets of Valemont for me and I’d be caught.
But without hesitating, I slid back onto the walnut bench, my shoes skidding across the tiles as I sat my ass down.
