Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3) - Page 130

On one hand, I want to text Rafe and ask him if there’s any chance his cousin’s pain in the ass watchdog might have tapped my phone when he had it.

On the other hand, what if it wasn’t Rafe’s family who tapped my phone? He said that Felix was an undercover cop, and while he clearly has men at the department working for him, they didn’t know Felix was a cop, so they’re not on the level they need to be.

Then I remember that my procrastination sometimes pays off. My phone has been asking me to update the software for like 30 years, and I keep telling it to remind me later because I’m lazy about doing boring things like that. If I update the software, maybe that will clear out whatever it is.

Or, that’s my thought, but despite knowing my phone needs an update, when I touch the ‘software update’ with the red bubble also telling me I need to update my software, a screen pops up telling me my software is up to date.

Nothing to see here, folks!

My phone might as well be twisting its handlebar mustache and whistling.

Someone is spying on my phone, and I don’t know if it’s my husband, his family, or cops.

Well, shit.

All right, I need to concentrate.

One of the waitresses sees me sitting here on the floor with my busted phone and she stops to ask, “Are you all right?”

“Yep, I’m good.”

She watches me for a moment before wandering away, but I’m busy reviewing memories.

You haven’t even called your mom.

That could be potentially suspicious. Rafe isn’t around me every hour of every day, yet he didn’t ask if I called my mom—he knew I didn’t. In fairness, maybe he figured if I had called my mom while he wasn’t home, I would have mentioned it to him, so I guess it’s not proof that he is behind the bugging of my phone…

But they did give it right back to me the next morning. I had no supervision in that bedroom with that phone, it wasn’t until after I left the room that Rex began following my every move.

They gave me time to myself to call for help if I had anyone to call.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter.

There’s not much I can do with this information until I get home. I don’t even know if I have information. I review it all again and again, checking for holes. Could I be wrong? I remember vividly the update popping up on my screen last night, though. I didn’t feel like dealing with it, so I told it to remind me later.

I guess I should have updated the damned phone right then. Would it have let me? Would it have cleared the spyware that must be installed on my phone? Or would it have taken me to that dummy screen and told me I didn’t need to update my phone after all?

At least I would know who bugged me if I had cleared the bug when I was on the couch with Rafe’s arm around me. All of a sudden his phone would have been lighting up as his cousin’s damned sneaky agent informed him he couldn’t spy on me anymore.

Adrian deserves a damned award for all this pro bono bad guy-ing he’s doing, I swear to God. I’m going to make him one and present it to him at Laurel’s wedding.

I grab for my phone to look for local trophy shops I can buy a plaque from for my sarcastic gift, but then it occurs to me if he is bugging me phone, he would be able to watch me do the search.

Nuts. How did people do things before cell phones?

Well, mine is useless, so since someone is bugging it, I storm into the kitchen, fill up a pitcher full of water, and drop my phone into it.

There. Take that, assholes.

Business picks up as the dinner rush starts, and before I know it, my shift is nearly over.

Rafe hasn’t come in, though. I assumed if anyone associated with Rafe’s family had bugged me, they would be alarmed when they lost me. That should definitely alarm them. I expected Rafe to check in and touch base to make sure everything is okay, to call the restaurant if he had to.

Nothing happens.

That makes me start to worry. What if it wasn’t Rafe’s family who bugged me? What if Adrian reset my phone to its factory settings in case I was a cop, and my phone was bugged, to rid it of someone else’s spyware?

I try not to obsessively worry about it, but I find myself searching my memories for anything I might have said to Laurel or Rafe or anyone else. I’m aware of the danger, so I am casually careful, but I didn’t think there was anything to actively worry about.

Tags: Sam Mariano Vegas Morellis Erotic
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