Page 61 of Reclaiming Adelaide

I sucked in a breath and removed my hands from beneath my legs, my knuckles aching from the strain.

“Aren’t you thoughtful?” I rolled my eyes and unbuckled my seatbelt as he stood.

“Not in the slightest.”

He put his hand out to the side, not to help me stand, but in a silent way of telling me he was waiting for me to stand so he could follow me out.

I stood, grabbing my bag as I did, and stalked towards the front of the airplane where Becca waited for us.

Becca gave me that same look of sympathy she gave me the night of the award ceremony.Pity.

I chewed on my inner lip, my backpack hanging in front of my legs as I waited for Prudy to finish lowering the staircase, then followed Becca out once she did.

The sun hit my face, warming my skin, temporarily erasing my dismay until Jake clasped my elbow and dragged me towards a black SUV with an emblem of the letter ‘B’ in the center of the tires.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that stood for Bentley because it was a sure cry different from his BMW.

Jake opened the back door, tossed me inside, and then snapped his fingers at Becca. “You take the front.” He slammed the back door, then slid into the driver’s seat.

God, he made me crazy.

Why did he have to be this way? Just be a regular guy who wanted nothing to do with me. Instead, this constant need to ‘protect’ me only prolonged the torture. It wrecked my mind with all sorts of possibilities I should have marked as impossible long ago.

Maybe it was him who was crazy, and he tried pulling me inside of his chaos with him. Misery loves company… right?

Becca shut her door and buckled herself in as Jake glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“Buckled?”

I exhaled and drew the strap over my shoulder, clicking it into place.

A stickler for safety yet threatens to kill me. Make it make sense.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I asked as he drove away.

Becca turned in her seat and looked at Jake for him to answer, but he wasn’t in the sharing mood.

“We are here to see our parents?”

“Your parents?”Didn’t he tell me they were dead?“I thought—”

“They are,” Jake said, placing his elbow on the console.

“Every year we visit their graves,” Becca explained.

I tipped my head back in understanding and stared out the window, watching the cars zoom past us until he turned on his indicator and made a left-hand turn into a cemetery.

Cemeteries were the most depressing location in the history of the earth. It was a bubble encompassing pain and loss to suffocating levels—each stone a blatant reminder of lost loved ones and just how fragile life was.

I sat up in my seat as he pulled up behind another vehicle and parked behind a white Porsche.

A cemetery for the rich. Was there such a thing?

“Stay in the car, Adelaide.”

“But it’s hot.”

“I’ll leave the AC on.”

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