Page 17 of Reclaiming Adelaide

“This soldier had a black tribal band around his forearm. Two of them. He recognized…”

Why did that sound so familiar?

“You okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the guy you’ve just described.” I shook my head and stepped away as he reached for my shoulder. “You didn’t come here to warn me, did you?”

“No.” He shoved his hand back into his pocket. “I came to see if you knew where Holeo is. He’s the only one that can fix this.”

I shook my head. “I have no clue. My life is in shambles because of him.”

Like how I destroyed everything good with Jake, my parents now think I’m a lowlife living off of take-aways.

“He did a lot of people dirty.”

“I guess that means everyone gets caught up in his mess.” My stomach tilted as I backed away from him, looking all around me. “What about my parents?”

“They’ll get caught in the crossfire.”

I sucked in a staggered breath. The thought of someone hurting my parents because of me rocked my stomach. My plan to leave just accelerated to tonight.

“So you don’t know where Holeo is then?”

I shook my head and turned, speed walking down the sidewalk away from him as thoughts of escape worked through my mind like a tired CPU.

“Good luck,” he hollered after me.

Rounding the corner where I’d left my Uber driver, my shoulder deflated. I’d taken too long, and he was gone.

Shit.

Pulling out my phone, I scheduled a new one to take me to the motel. I still had my laptop and gear there, and once I checked out, I had one more pit stop before leaving this place for good.

My heart sank as I found Rachel in my contacts and dialed. I’d never get to say goodbye to my parents. Not in person, anyway. I’d have to call them from a secure location to let them know I was okay, but I couldn’t risk going back there. This was it for me.

“Rachel here.”

“I need it today.”

“Meet me at ten tonight.”

The phone call ended, and I put it back in my pocket. After tonight, I’d be known as Felicity.

After standing for ten minutes, a car pulled up with an Uber sticker in the back, and I tucked my head inside.

“Going to the Burlton Motel?” he said, confirming my destination.

“That’s me.”

I slid into the back seat and hugged my backpack again, only this time it was filled with fresh clothes and less odor. The driver drove off after I clipped my belt. Again, I stared out the window, making sure they didn’t follow me, making sure Jake was nowhere to be found.

The driver turned onto Burlton Street. “Just park right here.”

He stopped the car alongside the curb and the driver, in his mid-twenties, turned around. “Here you go.”

Grabbing my bag, I opened the door, then froze when I spotted a blue four-door sedan parked two spaces off to the right from my motel room door. A man wearing black khakis and a matching shirt pushed the driver against his car.

“Shit.” I ducked into the backseat, shutting the door. “Drive, please. Drive away.”

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