Page 37 of Reclaiming Adelaide

Jake grabbed my shoulder and rolled me over, his brows creating lines on his forehead. Picking me up, he cradled me against his chest, my dead arms hanging at my sides, no longer functioning.

“How much did you give her?”

“Enough.”

Jake presented me to the demon with glowing eyes tearing out of his friend’s chest, and I was powerless to his will.

11

Tonksetupacot for her while I sat on the floor, holding her in my arms. Her pomegranate scent stirred abhorrent feelings inside of me as I stared at her fresh tattoo.

Even after laying hands on her, threatening her more times than I cared to admit, and letting her think I’d turned her parents against her, she still professed her love and got a matching tattoo.

A tattoo she had no intention of me ever seeing and a love she had no intention of sharing.

The thought stuck in my gut like a hot poker, bubbling my blood from the inside out.

But could I blame her?No.

Even if she had shared it without pointing a knife at me, I still didn’t want to hear her confessions. She probably said it to manipulate me into letting her go.

But there was this niggling in the back of my mind that had me questioning everything I’d discovered about her. What if she’d told me the truth? Would it be so hard to believe that she didn’t know who I was? Or who Alek was when she took the picture?

Yes. Of course it was.

She had to know. Two plus two equals four.There are no coincidences.

But how did she know I’d be at the club that night?

The conflicting back-and-forth thoughts filled my mind with rebellious doubt and anger, and it surged like a flash flood. I wanted to slap her away, hug her, shake her until she confessed, and wipe away her tears.

I moved her splotchy black hair away from her face and peered down at her placid features. She looked so different with it colored. I missed her red hair. It added to her spitfire personality. It acted as a warning to anyone who pushed her in the wrong direction. Couple that with her nineteen-year-old spirit, and you had a recipe for unpredictability and drama.

“What are you going to do with her?” Tonk said, standing in the doorway to the soundproof room.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, how long are you planning on keeping her here?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Hmm.”

“Who do you have next door?” I moved to my knees and shuffled her to the bed, and set her down.

“Kathy.”

“And who is that?”

“A woman I pulled off the street.”

I shook my head. “Any particular reason?”

“She has five counts of child abuse and is a habitual drug user.”

“Working through your mommy issues?”

He chortled. “My parental issues are dead and buried at the bottom of a well.”

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