Page 21 of Reclaiming Adelaide

I pulled out my phone.

“Janelle, how are things?”

“Good. Good.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I thought you’d like to know...”

I hated when conversations started like this.

“Adelaide came in today. She was crying and mentioned leaving town. I think something might be wrong, and I thought you’d like to know.”

I squeezed my phone, my heart zooming into overdrive as I flung my car door open. “She didn’t say where?”

“No. Just that it was far away from here.”

“Thanks, Janelle.” I pulled the phone away and caught sight of my fresh tattoo. “Hey,” I said, hoping she was still there as I placed it back up to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Did she get it?”

“What do you think?”

A smile broke across my face until I scrubbed it free with my hand.

I hung up and pocketed my phone as I got into my car.

Adelaide had a head start, but I told her in all seriousness that I’d find her. She didn’t want to listen.

I flipped through my phone, found an old contact, and dialed his number. He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, I need a favor.”

“Okay, I was just leaving work.”

“Perfect. I need you to pull up a location for me.”

I gave him Adelaide’s phone number, wishing I’d been the creep Tonk was with Ivy, and put tracking software on her phone.

“I’ve sent it to your email. You should be getting it now.”

My tablet and phone pinged with an incoming notification, and I opened it. It was a map of the south side, the bad part of town, worse than Azrael’s territory, and on it was a blue dot moving down Carrington Street.

One of the worst streets in the city.

A tremor ripped through my body as the tendons in my neck tightened, sending a zinging pain into my chest and jaw.

“What are you doing down there, sweets?”

I plugged the address into my GPS and took off, hoping she didn’t get stuck between rival gang members or some drug addict looking for a good time.

7

Thesunhaddippedbehind the tall derelict buildings with iron bars on the windows and trash littering the streets. The pungent stench of ammonia burned my nostrils, and a discernible moan echoed from an alley across the street.

I’d walked into Tent Alley. It wasn’t an actual alleyway more of an abandoned section of the city, where gangbangers and homeless people ruled each other like a lawless province.

But that’s how Rachel stayed off the radar. Cops didn’t come down here. The murder rate on this street was higher than in the entire city.

Ahead of me on the narrow backstreet was a green dumpster overflowing with rancid trash, boxes littering the ground along the brick walls, and rusted fire escapes above me. You’d have a better chance at survival if you battled the fire than stepped onto one of those rickety things.

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