Page 93 of Reclaiming Adelaide

This wasn’t supposed to happen—her parents dying, me holding her while she cried herself to sleep after fucking her. What was I thinking, letting my desires get the better of me? Emotions were high, adrenaline crashed, and one thing led to another. At least that’s what I’d tell her when she woke up.

But for now, I let her sleep a little longer, in peace where the reality of her new and ruined life was tucked far away amid shadowed dreams.

The sun had barely come up when I’d opened my eyes for the second time, with my arms still wrapped around her slender frame and my dick tucked away in my briefs.

I rolled away, the loss of her heat against me like a knife to the chest. I dressed in my bloody pants, still not having my luggage from the car, and limped down the steps, expecting a bustle of activity.

Where was everyone?

Stepping outside into the bright morning sun, I opened the trunk with my key fob as I passed Vito, his arm in a sling tucked against his body.

“Morning,” I said. “How’s the arm?”

Vito chuckled, then raised a brow. “How’s the leg?”

I tugged my suitcase from the back, along with her pack, and dragged them to the door.

“You know where everyone’s at?”

Vito cleared his throat. “Family meeting.”

Right.

I nodded and walked back inside with our luggage when a blood-curdling scream resounded across the pictured walls.

Adelaide?

I bolted up the stairs, ignoring the searing fire on the back of my thigh, and threw open her bedroom door.

Adelaide thrashed the tangled sheets around her, her eyes wide with fear. Tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“The blood. Get it off me.” She held out her hands, palms up. Her brows pulled together, her breaths ragged. “It’s everywhere.”

“There’s nothing there, sweets.” I tugged her towards me, placing her head on my chest, and ran my hand down her hair like I do with Becca when she has her night terrors. “There’s nothing there.”

Her mournful cries tore my heart from my chest, her tears wetting my skin.

“Look at me, Adelaide.”

I held her hands in front of her face, hoping she was awake enough to see her mind drowning her with fictitious visions. But that was the problem with night terrors—they’d loosened their hold when her mind was ready and not a second sooner.

“What’s going on?” Max said from the bedroom doorway, his chest heaving.

“Bad dream. She’s fine.”

Max slid his hand down the door frame and rubbed his eyes. “I’m not used to that kinda shit so early in the morning.” Walking away, he grumbled something indistinguishable, his voice dissipating with distance.

“Adelaide,” I said, holding her rocking body in my arms. “You’re okay.”

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her lids fluttered as she awakened, her trembling intensified. A tear dropped to her raised knees before she wrapped her arms around them and buried her face.

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