Page 36 of Adam's Rising

Baseball, maybe?

Perfect!

Lala was certainly steaming that they interrupted one of her shows to feature sports. Claire was eternally grateful that she’d been under the shower head so she didn’t have to listen to her cousin cry about how unfair life was. If she were home in California, she’d have HBO, her own TV, and no stupid baseball interruptions.

The good news for Claire… Nothing put Lala asleep like baseball.

Claire scooped up her boots and purse, then tiptoed out of her bedroom. She paused long enough at the living room wall to see that Lala was in fact sound asleep.

She shuffled her socked feet to the front door, hooked her rifle over her shoulder, and slipped out.

Lala would be livid when she discovered that Claire had taken her truck — again.

Oh well, such was life. She’d have to ask Grams to take money out of her trust for a truck. Before yesterday, she hadn’t needed a vehicle. Between school and the ranch, Grams’s Cherokee had always been enough. But now, the idea of going out at night appealed to her.

Claire slipped on her boots and made a run for the Blazer. Lala’s catnaps didn’t last long.

Door open, Claire lowered her rifle in the back, threw her purse on the passenger seat, then gripped the steering wheel, pulling herself up into the ridiculously high truck.

“Claire!”

Lala stood at the railing, shoeless. She wouldn’t walk barefoot. Her cousin scanned the deck for shoes, then ran back inside.

Claire smacked the lock, shoved the key into the ignition, and started the Blazer.

The screen door swung open, hitting the wall, and Lala darted out, running down the steps, but it was too late.

Claire rolled down the window as she pulled away. “Thanks, Lala! I’ll make it up to you.”

“Where are you going?” Lala screamed, stomping both feet in place.

Claire waved out the window and tore down the long driveway.

As soon as she got to the property line, Grams pulled in, gesturing for Claire to stop.

Claire obeyed, even though she didn’t want to. “Hi, Grams!” She smiled, making it clear she wasn’t doing anything wrong. In the rearview mirror, though, she saw Lala running toward her. “Love you, Grams, but I gotta go.”

“Where are you going — alone?”

“I have my rifle, and I won’t be alone. I’m studying with Jean.” She hated lying — especially to Grams — but if she’d said the ranch or the drive-in, Lala would come up with some tragic story of why she needed to track her down. If Lala believed she was studying, she might not try to find her. And Jean Bedard was the most sensible girl she’d met since moving to Wasilla. Even Grams liked her. “I have to go, Grams!”

Her grandmother nodded to Lala. “That hussy trying to rope you into doing something you don’t want to again?”

“Yes!” Claire said, which was true. “Please, don’t let her come looking for me.”

“You know how I hate you out alone,” Grams said, but blew her a kiss and waved her off. “Be smart, Claire-bear!”

Claire pushed the gas pedal a bit too hard, sending mud in Lala’s direction. She didn’t look to see if she’d done any damage to Lala’s newest outfit.

As she sped down the road, Claire told herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Still, something didn’t feel right. Somethingwaswrong. Why had the Belgarde sons — two of them, anyway — showed up overnight. Literally.

What if she were wrong about the boy she was going to the movies with?

A shiver swept over her at how fast Boyd had attacked her. She’d waved off Rusty’s concerns, but the whole situation had visited her more than a few times today. Each time, she’d realized how helpless she was — even with a supposed escort in the vehicle.

What if the guy she met todaywasn’tAdam? And if he were Thomas… where the hell was Adam? And what was she walking into?

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