Secrets in the Fade (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 2)

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Secrets in the Fade (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 2) Page 14

by Deidre Huesmann


  So here he found himself, scowling at a cake that for all he could tell had no taste. Completely pathetic, he raged inwardly. And yet he still couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. He had no words to explain why he had left her.

  At the very least, he couldn’t allow the cake to go to waste. Holden glanced at the time and then began packing up. Within minutes he had the confection delicately encased in a portable serving pan and was out the door.

  Holden counted himself lucky he had a busy work schedule this week. Initially it had seemed a hassle with Rachael’s determination to go digging for evidence, but now it was just enough to keep him sufficiently preoccupied.

  Coward, that aggravatingly Aaron-like voice sneered. You ought to be calling her and offering condolences or assistance.

  God, how Holden wished he could go back and punch Aaron again. A pang of regret stabbed him even as he thought it. Had he not lost his temper, had he just walked away, had he focused more on Rachael than the arrogant, conniving man who called himself an alpha... well, Holden suspected he would be managing a far sight better.

  Never had Holden felt so much turmoil—which provided a healthy dose of guilt when he remembered his mother. But it was true. He missed Rachael, yet couldn’t bring himself to return her calls. He loathed Aaron, yet wanted to return to the pack. Even worse, he didn’t want to hurt Rachael, but an enormous part of him was blinded by rage at how unfair it was Aaron was giving Jackson far more chances than any other lycan.

  Despite his thoughts he managed to get to work without incident. He unbuckled his seatbelt, subconsciously resting his hand against the cool, raised mark of his scars. Not one tingle since his fight with Aaron. Not even when they had come face-to-face hours after.

  When had that become a depressing sign?

  Holden strode through the front door, approaching the bar where Lacey was working. He set the cake on the counter beside her tip jar.

  She tilted her head. Sweet golden curls brushed against her high cheekbones. “What’s this?”

  “Strawberry yogurt cake,” he said.

  Her eyes lit up. “I didn’t know you baked.”

  Holden offered her a faint smile. “Yeah. Mostly when I’m stressed.”

  Lacey eyes the container. “I hear ya. I eat when I’m stressed... and I may be a little upset about that a-hole that keeps trying to grab my butt.”

  One of the regulars, he knew. Holden rolled his eyes. Gentlemen had never been commonplace, but the brazenness of some people never failed to astound him. “Want me to talk to Boss about him?”

  She laughed. “I’d rather have a slice of your cake, if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, sure. Help yourself.” The words had hardly left his mouth before she’d dashed back to the kitchen. Holden’s eyes followed her, critically eyeing the short, bouncy pink dress she’d chosen for her shift. Just as a nasty, intrusive thought began to filter in, he angrily quashed it down. No, he reminded himself. Humans had evolved past such base concepts, and so had he.

  It was still tough to battle many of the ideals he’d grown up with. So much time had passed, people had changed drastically, and yet the idea that women were more akin to property was still hard to shake sometimes.

  Holden quickly headed for his station and relieved the boy from the afternoon shift. He immediately began his cleaning procedures, relying on the monotony to distract him from his dark thoughts.

  All of them.

  Fortunately, the course was packed enough that Holden was able to keep quite busy. He sent an older gentleman on his way after paying for a spot on the driving range when a familiar glimpse of a slim figure and strawberry blonde hair caught his eye. Inwardly he groaned, but outwardly he smiled and greeted the man beside her. “Hey again.”

  “Hello, Holden.” A man with copper-colored hair handed him a credit card. “One spot on the driving range. My daughter will be with me.”

  Vera nodded and smiled. “Hey.”

  “How’s it going,” murmured Holden. He swiped the card and scribbled the man’s name on a sheet of paper. A few more questions got the two on their way.

  But at the sliding glass door leading to the range, Vera hesitated and turned to her father. “Daddy, can I talk to Holden for a sec?”

  Her father nodded once before continuing on. Vera waved after him, still smiling, until he disappeared around one of the sidewalls. Then her expression went chillingly neutral and she turned back to her former classmate, eyeing him up and down.

  Tiredly, Holden said, “What’d I do, now?”

  “Honestly, that’s what I’d like to know,” said Vera quietly. She approached him, keeping her voice low so as not to cause a scene. Holden glanced around, hoping for another customer so he could excuse himself.

  No such luck, of course.

  Vera leaned in close, her cornflower blue eyes frosted over like a winter morning. “Rachael’s been completely cold to us for the past two days. She won’t talk, she eats alone, says nobody can understand what she’s going through—an awful lot like she was a couple years ago. You remember that, don’t you?”

  Of course he did. Holden leaned against the counter moodily. Now he was more certain than ever he’d done the right thing. Back in the car he’d been certain Rachael was getting more and more impulsive. Now her fear and grief were culminating in the same depression he’d first met her in.

  When he didn’t say anything, Vera scowled. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even talked to her.”

  Holden closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for the oncoming rage. “I actually haven’t.”

  “Why not?” Vera demanded.

  “None—”

  “Ohh, don’t you dare,” she snarled. The venom in her voice sharply contrasted her sweet features, which were now lined with fury. Holden actually straightened up in surprise. “Don’t you even try telling me it’s none of my business. She’s my best friend. Way better than my last. So it’s also a little infuriating that she found Coleen’s company better than mine at lunch today.”

  Puzzlement stitched Holden’s brow. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said slowly.

  “No, it doesn’t,” agreed Vera. “Not for Rachael.” She eyed him critically. “Not unless something happened.”

  He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to control his expression. Holden quickly tried to mask his guilt. It must have been blatant because Vera was already closing what little distance there was between her and the counter.

  “What happened to her?” she pressed.

  Normally Holden would have refused to say anything, but normally he also would have had anybody else to talk to. He paused, glanced around and found no relief yet again, and then sighed. He inched back from the counter, half-expecting her to attack him.

  “I left her,” he confessed.

  This time it was Vera’s turn to look confused. She clutched the edge of the counter, her meticulously painted nails faintly scratching the surface.

  “What do you mean, you left her? Did you date for, like, five minutes?”

  “No,” said Holden mutely. “I mean she wanted to come to my place, and I said yes, and I took her home, and while she was getting her things I...” Vera’s eyes widened, and he forced himself to say it aloud. “I left her there.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because it’s not right for a girl her age to spend the night at my place.”

  Vera blinked and straightened up. She mused over his words, rocking back on her sensible heels. After a long, tense silence, she said, “Holden?”

  “Yeah?”

  He’d been expecting her to explode, but he hadn’t expected her to lunge forward and slap him. Holden reeled back, too startled by her actions to strike back. This was Vera, the sweetest girl in West Keeton High. She was well-known for her emotional generosity and kindness. And even on the rare occasion she exploded, it was verbally.

  And while Holden was inhumanly strong, he wasn’t immune to pain. Unlike Coleen’s from the years
previous, her slap hurt. He could feel the blood rushing to that spot. His lycan healing would keep it from even becoming a mark, but she’d certainly hit hard enough to leave one on any human teenager.

  “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

  Vera’s voice drowned his out. “Now you listen to me, you unbelievable sack of worthless air! I’ve been completely on your side for the past couple years. You’ve done great things for Rachael. I’ve been begging her to ask you out, since you’re clearly too much of a wuss to do it yourself. And if you don’t call her and fix what you did to her, I will personally make your life a living hell! She’s hurt. She told me that I’d just be in the way, and while that makes be unbelievably angry, I’m going to forgive her because she’s clearly in a bad place.” She grabbed the landline phone on the counter, her voice still rising to the point people from the bar were staring. “If I find out you didn’t even try, I swear I’ll come back and slash all your tires before I set your stupid car on fire with the most amazing Molotov cocktail you’ve ever seen. So call her and apologize for being an idiot!”

  And then, without waiting for an answer, she shoved the phone so hard it crashed over his side of the counter.

  Holden cursed and bent down to pick it up. When he rose she was out the sliding glass door, striding off toward her father and muttering obscenities only Holden and the range drivers could hear.

  Snickering from the bar reached his ears, but Holden couldn’t bring himself to react. He stared after his former classmate in stunned silence, cradling the clunky phone as he marveled over the force of Vera’s rage.

  He stared down at the receiver and dread gutted him. Should he fail to heed Vera’s benevolent advice he had no doubt she’d follow through on her threats. Centuries of experience told him oftentimes the kinder ones were the most likely to keep their word.

  And he had to admit, it had been a magnificent threat for a high school girl.

  His mood soured all the more. It took hours for the customers to begin filtering out. When Vera and her father came back, she simply eyed him with a neutral expression before wishing him a good evening.

  The course had closed by the time Lacey was able to make it over to him. The woman laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kid. I saw what happened. You okay?”

  Holden shrugged.

  “What was that all about, anyway?”

  He had to wonder if anybody had seen Vera strike him. If he were to be honest, he hoped they hadn’t. It made him angry, but not enough to get her in trouble. Besides...

  “Nothing,” he muttered as he wiped the counter down. “I deserved it anyway.”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “Well, how about I wait for you?” When he returned her expression, she said mildly, “If she burned your car down, you might need a ride home.”

  It was a fairly lame joke, but Holden chuckled anyway. “Thanks. Sure. That’d be helpful.”

  Lacey patted him before sauntering back to her bar. Shortly after she began to put away her dirty glasses. The clinking was oddly soothing, and Holden was able to relax a little for the first time in nearly a day.

  Tonight, he promised himself. Tonight he would call Rachael.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her social life may have been in tatters, but Rachael couldn’t let that stop her from helping Jackson. The problem was that she was out of ideas. Searching the forest had proved fruitless. Holden still wasn’t answering her calls. She stood tensely in her kitchen, wearing her backpack and school clothes, listening to the everlasting ring that was becoming painfully familiar.

  But this time when it went to voicemail, she didn’t hang up. After the beep, Rachael took a deep breath and said, “It’s me. Look, I think I know what I did, and I... I’m sorry. Please, just call me back.” She paused, trying to think of a way to end the message. When her pause became painfully long, she finally just settled for a whispered, “Please, Holden. I need you.”

  She hung up.

  Rachael stared blankly at the silent phone, wracking her brain for something else she could do. It had occurred to her to plead to Aaron’s sympathy, but oftentimes she wasn’t certain he had much to give. She nervously tapped a rapid rhythm on the wall, her other fingers tugging at a long lock of hair while she debated.

  At last she groaned and picked up the phone again, this time dialing a relatively new number. This call was answered quickly.

  “RayRay?”

  She sagged with relief. “Hi, Jackie.”

  Before she could ask if she could see him, Jackson blurted out, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, no matter what I thought of everything. And before you say anything, I think he’s a douche for just ditching you like that. But I still... you’re my sister.”

  She smiled faintly. “I love you, too, Jackie.”

  A relieved sigh sent static through the receiver. “I thought you weren’t gonna talk to me after that.”

  Rachael bit her lip. “After Mama died... I couldn’t ever do that.”

  His end grew solemnly quiet. “I miss her.”

  “Me, too.”

  “But, hey, maybe I can see her soon.”

  Rachael flinched. She knew he wasn’t trying to be morbid, that he probably had to resort to humor to handle the situation. But while she was certain their mom would welcome Jackson with open arms, she didn’t want to think about a life without both of them.

  She hurried to shift the subject. “What are you doing?”

  A creaking noise sounded in the background, as though he were sitting on an old chair or bed. “Staying in. I can’t even go hunting. Aaron and Nathan have to bring me food, or I have to eat what’s in the fridge.”

  So he was essentially a prisoner. “Want some company?”

  Jackson hesitated. “I don’t know. Not that I don’t wanna see you, it’s just... things are weird here.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “They’re weird here, too.”

  “How’s Dad?”

  She leaned against the wall, tugging at her hair again. “Working, as usual. I barely see him anymore.”

  His tone turned dejected. “I’m really sorry, RayRay.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Still.”

  She tried again. “Please, can I come over?”

  Her brother hesitated for an eternal few moments, and then he snorted. “Yeah, what the hell. Why not? Just don’t let Aaron see Holden drop you off.”

  Rachael opened her mouth to explain that Holden still hadn’t called her back, but quickly changed her mind. “No problem.”

  “See ya soon.”

  “Okay.”

  She hung up again. Rachael frowned at the linoleum on the kitchen floor. She wasn’t worried about dinner. Eating was hardly on her mind, especially after her blowout with Vera. Plus her father had been getting more and more late night fast food since Jackson’s return. Apparently when he wasn’t funneling his overtime into a not-so-missing son there was more for easy meals.

  Rachael shrugged off her backpack and left it in the foyer. Briefly she considered calling a cab, but she didn’t have enough money. Plus her father certainly hadn’t been keen on leaving too much with her since the night she’d stolen a few good-numbered bills to chase down the jealous lycan who had kidnapped Jackson.

  A quick glance at the phone spoke of Holden’s continued silence. An idea came to her, but it made her cringe. Rachael closed her eyes, steeled her nerves, and dialed one last number.

  The answer was just as prompt as Jackson’s. “Moreno residence.”

  Rachael hugged herself with her free arm to fight off the strange chills that voice sent through her. “I know you know it’s me,” she said, her voice flatter than she’d intended.

  “And you know I consider assumption a poor exercise of manners,” Aaron returned.

  Geez, how did he always manage to be so inimical? Rachael felt her throat tense, making her words difficult to choke out. “I... I need a favor.”

&nb
sp; She could picture his mildly startled expression from the momentary silence he granted her. “And what might that be?” Somehow his careful inquiry unsettled her, as though she were making a deal with the devil. Rachael took a deep breath, reminding herself that he wasn’t the enemy.

  Maybe.

  Hopefully.

  “Can I get a ride to your place?”

  Rachael half-expected to be greeted with a honking horn and some expensive car she hadn’t yet seen. She was only partially on point. Aaron knocked at the front door to gain her attention, and when she stepped out to join him she was greeted by the same Maserati she’d seen at their new house on moving day.

  Aaron studied her expression as she eyed the car. “Is it not to your taste?”

  “I don’t know much about cars,” she admitted. “Just a little of what my dad’s told me.”

  He nodded before striding to the passenger side of the vehicle. “He has a fairly good eye for appropriate engineering, though not a particular affinity for luxury.”

  Rachael shook her head. She’d almost forgotten her father had met the pack alpha years before. With some reluctance she followed Aaron to the car, swallowing any comment she could have made about him opening the door for her. She climbed in and buckled her seatbelt, trying not to care about the creamy leather seats or the gentle heat emanating around her legs. It made her think of Coleen and the wicked girl’s champagne taste, and Rachael didn’t want to think they had a single thing in common.

  Still, it was hard not to take some pleasure in the moment. Outside was becoming bitingly cool, and the heated seats were a welcome indulgence.

  If Aaron had any smart remarks to make about her experience, he kept them to himself. He glanced at her to ensure she was buckled up before putting the car in gear. Rachael tried to keep her gaze out the window, yet she couldn’t help but notice that Aaron was a very precise driver compared to Holden. His hands rarely moved from their positions on the steering wheel, his eyes constantly flickered toward the rearview mirrors, and he kept all his attention on the road.

  Of course, she thought wryly, he could have been ignoring her. While he’d agreed to pick her up, something in his tone had spoken of the way this favor put him out.

 

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