Page 10 of Reclaiming Adelaide

It gave me the patience and methodical movements I needed when all I wanted was to give into the reckless side she’d dug out of me. Like strangling her… again.

I hated that I’d done that to her. The fear in her eyes when she looked at me still haunts me, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize.

And why the hell should I?

After what she did to me, throttling her for thirty seconds was a fair take away.

I scrubbed my body, wiping away the day’s sweat and hard work, then rinsed—the water hitting the ground with emphatic smacks like it’d been thrown with force towards the tile. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

Everything in my house held memories of her, right down to my goddamn closet when I’d gotten her some clothes the first night we met.

Or was that really the first time? Had she stalked me like she did Alek? I didn’t look far enough back to see if there were any pictures of me. I’d gotten too hung up on the first picture.

What benefit would it be to follow them? And the look in her eyes when I confronted her about them seemed authentic. For a split second, she’d convinced me she had no idea who they were.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I slapped the top of my head and drew my palms down my face. “Stop thinking about her.”

No matter what I did to pull her from my memories, she’d stuck there.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering to see what it said, then a pair of socks with black shoes. I didn’t even bother styling my hair, I just shoved my fingers through the wet strands, pushing them over to the side, and called it good.

My kitchen.

God, even my kitchen.

I couldn’t walk in here without seeing her sitting at my damn table with Becca, enjoying breakfast with us. Pulling out a box of leftovers, I flipped the lid and dug into the cold steak.

Protein after a workout was the best way for me to sustain my stomach. Otherwise, I’d make the terrible mistake of filling up on pizza, and two hours later, I’d be starving like a homeless person. And that reminded me.

I pulled out my phone and called Becca.

“Blackstone Tech, this is Becca—”

“It’s me,” I said, cutting off her speech. “I need you to talk to accounting about donating to a different homeless outreach. The last one had some bad press about mishandled funds. I don’t want that bouncing back on us.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“No. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hanging up, I took the last chunk out of my steak, threw the bone in the trash, along with the container, then set it to compact.

The motor whirred as I washed my hands, then snatched my keys and walked back out into my garage.

Adelaide declared war the moment she came after me, then made it a slaughterhouse when she tried to take me for fifteen million.

I’d make her see the error of her ways… the hard way.

4

Idugintothepile of clothes next to my backpack, searching for a pair of clean panties, but came up empty-handed. “Dammit.” I slapped my thigh with an exasperated sigh.

I’d run out of clean clothes and sanity, and I was not looking forward to venturing out to gather more—clothes, not sanity.

That ship had long since sailed.

It’d been two days since I left my parent’s home to hide out in this motel room with ratty curtains, mold in the shower, and grimy carpets. I’d slowly but surely rotted away with boredom while waiting for Rachel, my go-to girl, to create my new IDs.

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