Page 82 of Daughter of a Monster

Michael makes no effort to disguise the way he looks over me. His eyes travel from my head to my toes, lingering on the plunging neckline of my dress to the point that I almost want to cover myself.

I glance toward the door, hoping to see Jericho striding over, a storm in his eyes. But no one comes.

I must manage some sort of response as Michael keeps talking, asking about my family, my father, all the things I’ve avoided talking about for the last few years. I find myself laughing and smiling, almost battering my eyelashes as the old Everly rears her head. I slip back into the old role easily, even as I curse myself for doing it.

“We should catch up.” He pulls a business card out of his pocket. “Call me,” he says, and then he saunters off down the street, his arm slung over the mystery woman again.

“Who was she?” I hear the woman ask.

“Just someone I used to know,” is Michael’s reply.

I watch his back, feeling an odd twinge of nostalgia for the time when my life was simpler. When I wasn’t known as the daughter of a monster. When my life was as simple as wanting nothing more than Michael Gorman’s attention. I could have been the woman walking by his side. Just as he’s about to turn the corner, Michael glances back at me. There’s a flash of longing in his eyes that makes me wonder if he too is thinking of what could have been if my life hadn’t been blown apart.

I toy with his card, flicking it between my fingers. Part of me wants to chase after him. He belongs to the world we so desperately need to be accepted into. But the other part of me doesn’t want to be that girl again.

By the time Dominic pulls up to the curb, Jericho hasn’t burst through the door. He hasn’t come looking for me. I try to squash down the part of me that’s disappointed. For a moment, I had visions of him storming outside and tossing me over his shoulder.

Dominic’s eyebrows lift high as he takes in my outfit but he doesn’t say anything until we’re in the car.

“Well it’s good to see you’re alive.” There’s an air of annoyance to him, as though he’s truly offended I didn’t keep in contact.

“I didn’t know we were that close.”

Dominic frowns. “It would have been nice to know you were okay. I went from seeing you every day to you vanishing into thin air.”

“Sorry. There isn’t any reception to make calls.”

“Excuses, excuses,” he says, but his tone is a little lighter. “So how has it been? Has the Priest been making you give confession?” His eyebrows wiggle and I can’t help but laugh.

I merely shrug. “Isn’t my style.”

We pull into the driveway of an ultra-modern blindingly white house. I whistle long and low. Dominic presses a button and one of the garage doors opens. He drives in and cuts the engine.

“Welcome to my cozy home.” The way he says it is laced with sarcasm but I’m too busy to respond, gazing in wonder as he leads me into the house. Everything is either white or glass. Huge windows frame an ocean view. There’s an infinity pool off to one side. There’s no sign of the lights of the city. It’s like we’re secluded, living in a world all of our own.

“You could have told me you lived in a mansion.”

“We don’t own it, not that my father would ever admit it. My uncle does.”

“Same thing.” I want to bite my tongue the moment the words leave my mouth. I know better than to judge someone by who has contributed to their DNA. “Sorry,” I add as I walk over to the wall of family photos. There’s only one of the whole family. Father, mother, and child. Dominic is young, only a toddler. He’s got cute blond curls. “You should grow your hair out.” I walk over and run a hand over his buzzed haircut. “You looked so cute with curls.”

Dominic rolls his eyes. “And that’s exactly why I cut them off.”

“You don’t want to look cute?”

“No.”

“That’s a pity,” I tease.

Dominic ignores the comment, choosing instead to open the cupboard beneath the bar. “Fancy a drink?”

I flop myself onto the sofa. Not surprisingly, it’s white. “Fuck yes.”

Dominic pours some spirits into two glasses and pops in some ice cubes. “So, tell me everything,” he says. “It’s been dreadfully boring around here without you.”

“I highly doubt that. The gossip train would have gone into overdrive the moment I left.”

Dominic tilts his head to one side as if pondering his answer and then laughs. “You have no idea what you’ve been accused of since you’ve been gone.”

---