Page 128 of Reclaiming Adelaide

“Stay here and be a good girl.”

I smiled as a warmth flooded my body from his lowered tone. Biting my lip, I nodded, resolving myself to his command.

“I’ll be back before you know it, but text me if you need anything. And don’t be afraid. Charity’s here, and the men guarding outside will still be here.”

I swallowed as he walked out of the room, shutting the heavy door behind him with a snick.

The quiet beat of his subwoofer from the music he’d forgotten to shut off worked in time with the rhythm of my heart. It was like a war drum beating to his tune.

Jake would step foot in the same room as those murderers under the guise of handing Holeo over. The only question was, would they allow him to step out?

My skin dampened with sweat as I considered the possibility of never seeing him walk through that door again. A heaviness settled on my chest like the weight of a thousand elephants. Blood pulled away from my face, and my legs began to shake.

Breathe. Just breathe.

I gripped the edge of the desk and willed myself to control my fears. He’d come back. Everything would be fine. It’ll be okay.

I grabbed my new phone off the desk and stared at Monica’s name. After all this time, we’d had little phone conversations here and there, but other than that, she was busy in her new home in California, and soon she’d start up college.

Me: What are you up to?

My knee bobbed, and I stared at my computer screen, waiting for someone to bite on the emergency request forms I’d sent out as I waited for my best friend to respond.

Monica: Studying like mad before I enter this class. You?

Me: What do you think I’m doing?

Monica: Why sitting at your computer, of course. Say, when am I getting that picture?

Me: Picture?

I frowned. What the hell was she talking about?

Monica: Yeah, you know, the one with your pregnancy test.

Had I really forgotten to tell my best friend I was having Jake’s baby? I grabbed a piece of paper and a marker, drew a rectangle—the shape matching the little tester we’d bought—and drew two pink lines with Jake’s highlighter. I snapped a picture and forwarded it to her.

It was the best I could come up with.

Monica: Real funny. Show me the real deal.

I snorted and leaned back in my chair, crossing my ankle over my knee.

Me: I don’t have the real deal. But I’m 13 weeks.

Monica: If I had a maid, she’d be breaking dishes right now.

A smile pulled at my lips as I recalled the memory before everything turned into a chaotic twister of misery and confusion.

Me: Probably a good thing.

Monica: We have lots to catch up on, but it’s gonna have to wait. I need to study.

Me: Okay. Catch ya later.

Monica: Congrats, you lucky bitch.

I tossed my phone onto the desk before me and stared at the address listed on my computer.

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