She lifted the little black case of her mother’s favorite albums and the radio. “I’m ready.”
He frowned at her choices. “I assumed you would want other, personal items.”
Her clothes would be useless. Her makeup inappropriate. She gasped. “My books!” Without the internet, books would be her only entertainment.
She dumped a box of knick-knacks onto the sofa and collected her favorite novels and texts, leaving just enough room for the radio to rest on top. She grabbed her purse, too.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
His frown had deepened as he saw the amount of personal belongings, she’d gathered despite her decision to bring only what she needed. “Annalise, some of those items won’t—”
“I’m not leaving without this stuff.” This was her life in a box. Her favorite things and only tangible link to her past. She snatched a picture from off the end table and tucked it in the box. “The longer we stand here arguing the more stuff I’m going to grab. Just let me have my way with this, Adam. These things are important to me.”
He didn’t know this would be the last time she saw these things. He wouldn’t understand that these relics of her human life had caused her pain and she was glad to leave them behind, but needed just a few to make her feel safe. Music was a time machine that took her back to places her mom still seemed alive. And her books were a security blanket that protected her from the real world when it got too harsh to handle. The medical texts symbolized her intention to continue her education, no matter what happened.
“All right, ainsicht.” He took the box from her arms.
“Thank you.”
She followed him to the door, glancing back one last time. He likely assumed this was just a temporary goodbye, but she knew the truth.
As soon as they returned to the farm, she’d insist they complete the bonding. Once they were certain he would live, they could discuss where to go from there. But Annalise knew without a doubt, that this part of her would be forever dead. And if she decided to move on, she’d be moving somewhere that actually brought her joy.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Adam paused at the fetid odor of wafting testosterone that surrounded her place of work.
Annalise paused, one hand on the door, her eyes waiting for him to tell her it was safe. “What is it? Do you feel something?”
It had been a simple question with a simple answer, but taken aback by her reliance on him, he struggled to answer. She was coming to trust his instincts and the idea that he would always protect her.
“It’s nothing to worry over.” He reached for the door and held it for her.
Tobacco scented air greeted as they stepped into the dimly lit bar. His hand closed around her hip, tucking her into his side.
She laughed and patted his hand. “Loosen up, caveman. Why don’t you wait in that booth while I talk to—”
“No.” His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like this place. He didn’t like the way the men watched her or the way the bartender wanted her.
“Adam. Let me do this.”
Once again he had a strange inclination that something had changed. She’d been acting different since they left the Mennonite house two nights ago. Every so often he’d glimpse a resoluteness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.
He saw the same glimmer now and wondered what she intended to tell them. “Do not take long.”
“Don’t be pushy.” She took a step and he pulled her back, spinning her towards him.
His lips pressed to hers and he whispered, “Then don’t push me.”
Rolling her eyes, she gave him a little shove on the chest, her gaze playful. “Sit. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Never taking his gaze off her, he lowered into the booth and scowled when the men noticed her return.
“I ... had the flu.” The more she repeated the lie, the easier it came.
He didn’t condone her lying at all, but for their situation, it seemed a necessary evil. When the bartender finally saw her, he tensed.
“Anna? Where have you been? We’ve been calling you.”
She paused and Adam saw in her eye that this had not been the greeting she’d expected from the man. She angled her head toward the back of the bar, and he followed her.
They stood in the doorway where Adam had a clear visual of them. The music and conversation impeded his ability to clearly hear what they said, but he caught enough to know she was saying goodbye.
He frowned as a wave of upset stole over her and the scent of her tears reached his nose.
“We knew this moment would eventually come,” he heard her say. She rose to her toes and a growl rumbled in Adam’s chest as she hugged the other man.