Stunned silence followed his speech, which did not appear to please him. Aaron raised his voice. “Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes,” said the three in subdued tones.
Aaron nodded once before stalking around them and toward the living room. After that display Rachael’s anxiety jangled so hard she could hardly hear herself think. She tried to divert her gaze but Aaron just stood in front of her expectantly.
At last she looked up. She wanted to speak but her heart stuck in her throat.
In much quieter tones, Aaron said, “Please focus on your exams and graduation, Ms. Adair. School should be your priority right now.”
It stung far more than words could say, but Rachael just forced a small nod.
For a split second she could have sworn his gaze was gentle and empathetic. But as soon as she blinked it was gone. Rachael couldn’t be certain she had ever seen it in the first place. It had just been a few hours ago, but in that moment it seemed as though months had passed since they kissed.
Aaron had gone cold again, a solid block of ice that somehow resembled a man. That she had lost that connection to him so quickly almost drove Rachael to tears.
Instead she slowly stood and said in a perfectly even voice, “If you don’t mind, I would like to start dinner, please.”
Aaron scrutinized her face for a moment. But when he didn’t find what he’d been expecting, he stepped aside.
Distantly amazed at her poise, Rachael swept past the confused pack and into the kitchen. Perhaps tonight, she thought numbly, they could have a casserole.
Three weeks after graduation Coleen Thibodeaux’s body turned up at the tail end of a river just two towns away from Keeton. How she had died could not be discerned. Apparently nature had taken its toll so terribly that an open casket funeral was impossible.
Rachael was deadened to the news by the time a former classmate called to tell her. But out of guilt and some grudging respect, she chose to attend the funeral.
It was as splendid in her death as Coleen had been in life. Though her body couldn’t be shown, Coleen’s parents went all-out for her funeral. The casket looked atrociously expensive and not a single aisle in the church was bare of at least four different types of flowers. It was almost disgusting.
Throughout it all Rachael sat toward the back and bit her tongue. It was interesting when it came time for friends and family to give eulogies. For Vera and Rachael’s mother the outpouring of love had been expected; for Coleen it was a shock. She had harmed so many in the course of her short life, yet in death it seemed as though all were forgiven. Most of the congregation were even moved to tears, though a scattered few sat through it all with dry, disdainful eyes. Rachael wondered why they had even attended.
Although she had probably been the last person Coleen had considered close to her, Rachael did not give a speech. She preferred to remain in her seat and watch, bow her head when necessary, and murmur condolences that were becoming far too familiar these days.
By the end she felt completely drained. As Rachael trudged from the church in the same black outfit she had worn to her mother and Vera’s wakes, she felt a slight touch on her arm. Jackson nodded once to her and led her toward his now-running Mustang.
She didn’t want to go back to the Moreno house. While she was happy her father would be there to pick her up tomorrow, Rachael didn’t want to say her goodbyes. Though Jackson, Nathan, and Ana Sofia went out of their way to include her, Aaron stoically continued to avoid her. It left her flesh cold throughout the day. Rachael sorely missed the intense heat that used to encase her in a thriving cocoon.
But she held her tongue and didn’t try to approach him. If he had been honest with her in the woods, then Aaron had to be taking the upcoming change as hard as she was.
Even if he wasn’t showing it.
Back at the house nobody was there to greet them. “They’re out hunting,” explained Jackson.
Rachael nodded but didn’t remove her coat. “I think I’m going for a walk,” she said.
He didn’t ask questions, merely said, “Yell if anything happens,” and then headed back out to the garage.
As she meandered toward the woods, Rachael ruminated on the funeral. It still seemed so surreal. Many times during her sophomore year she had wished Coleen would just vanish off the face of the planet. Now that it actually happened she just felt sad. The lack of her, even if she had mostly been cruel, controlling, and clingy, still whispered of how awful the town had become since the pack had arrived.
It was best they go, she thought mutely. Rachael kicked at a large stick in her path. Every single death of someone close to her had only happened—or sped up, in her mother’s case—because of the lycans.
Part of her was relieved to know Holden would not be around. But it didn’t make up for the dull, heavy ache that Aaron’s soon-to-be-absence was already leaving.
Softly humming to herself, Rachael kept on toward the sequoia. It was not a good place to be, she knew, but she didn’t want her last memory to be of the awful fight between Aaron and Holden. Many terrible things had happened around that tree but too much good had also occurred.
Birds flitted gleefully above her, chirping away. So strange that her life meant near to nothing in their view. The deer, squirrels, badgers, and natural wolves cared nothing for her or her problems.
But she still cared for them. Rachael had decided to attend Cortes Community College once spring semester began. Her father had grudgingly explained that would be the soonest he could afford to send her. Rachael didn’t mind enrolling so late. Although, she didn’t look forward to the painful stretch of time between the pack’s departure and the start of her schooling.
Once she went, Rachael would begin with her required classes and slowly work her way toward veterinary courses. She wasn’t certain if she would branch off into biology, wildlife care, or something else similar, but she did know that one way or another she wanted to come back to nature.
It stung to know she couldn’t become a lycan. There was no closer to nature she could be. Especially in the years Aaron claimed they spent time as just wolves.
A sound ahead caught her attention. Rachael frowned and walked a little faster. It wasn’t Holden—at least, she hoped not. He would be foolish to come back again so soon. His injuries wouldn’t even be healed yet.
To her relief the person by the sequoia was a woman. But then Rachael’s heart sank when she recognized her.
Lacey must have heard her approach, because she stood from her kneeled position. The expression she wore upon setting eyes on Rachael was one of pure revulsion.
Even then she was stunning. Her curly wheat-blonde hair rested against the soft lines of her face. The jeans and long-sleeved shirt she wore showed off her curves but kept her surprisingly modest. Rachael wondered how she had found the sequoia again, but was too emotionally depleted to ask.
“What do you want?” Lacey asked suspiciously.
Rachael shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Right,” muttered Lacey. She started to kneel again, paused, and then stood upright. With a toss of her hair back over her shoulder, she placed her hands on her hips and said primly, “I’m looking for that necklace. You know, the one you so cruelly threw at Holden?”
Rachael winced. “I don’t have it.”
“Uh huh. Well, I can’t find it. And while it absolutely disgusts me to do so, Holden begged for it back and unlike you, I can’t stand to see him hurt.” Lacey advanced on her, eyes narrow and unforgiving. “So if you’re lying, just give it up. It shouldn’t mean anything to you.”
Taking a step backward, Rachael said, “Honestly, I don’t.”
Lacey’s upper lip curled. “What, not so brave without your daddy?”
It took Rachael a moment to realize who she meant. Red stained her cheeks. “He’s not my...” She couldn’t even make herself repeat the word. Not in that awful context.
“I know who he is,” said Lacey. Her sneer tur
ned into a smile, and Rachael was struck by how contrastingly lovely it was to her attitude. “Holden told me everything.” She looked Rachael up and down, and then repeated the word softly. “Everything.”
Unsure what to make of that, Rachael remained silent.
Apparently her quiescence emboldened Lacey. “I know about your mom. Your whole family, actually. And how only Holden was there for you. How he felt so cornered and trapped by your gross ephebophile of a boyfriend that he made a huge mistake and killed your friend. I also know you turned on him and just ran straight into an older man’s arms.” Disgust colored her voice. “Are you not even a little ashamed of yourself?”
Put that way, everything sounded awful on her end. Rachael wanted to argue but bit her tongue. She couldn’t bring herself to counter anything. Not when this young woman was so intent on their version of the story, at least.
Besides, she couldn’t say none of it was true. And she couldn’t deny that tossing Holden’s gift back at him while he was already down had been a terrible thing to do.
Taking her silence as an admission, Lacey shook her head. “In a few years you’ll realize what a huge mistake you made. And I don’t know why Holden likes you so much, but I can only pray he learns his lesson and just walks away from you.”
Quietly, Rachael said, “I hope he does, too. And you.”
The slap Lacey delivered knocked her head askew. Rachael immediately backed away, eyeing the other woman warily.
But Lacey didn’t seem intent on pursuing her assault further. A satisfied look took over her features. “I heard your lover’s moving. Maybe you should, too. Keeton is still my home, and while I can say Holden is done with you for now, I would still highly suggest getting out while you can.”
The threat made the hairs on Rachael’s arms stand up. She turned and started to walk away, but Lacey shouted one last jab after her.
“Coming from an outsider, maybe you should consider you’re dressed in that awful funeral garb because of your stupid alpha!”
Rachael quickened her pace until she could no longer see the sequoia—or Lacey—when she looked over her shoulder. The conversation left her unnerved, to say nothing of the fear for her well-being.
Safety seemed too slow to come back into view, but Rachael at last felt a wash of relief when she saw the Tudor revival home. Not once did she run into any lycans. She wasn’t certain how that made her feel.
But she supposed she would have to get used to it. Tomorrow they would leave. After that she was on her own.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nighttime was dreadful, even with Ana Sofia curled up beside her. Rachael tried not to toss and turn too much since the girl was in such a deep sleep, but she could not rest. The night passed with agonizing sluggishness. And yet, she didn’t want morning to break.
Unfortunately, time was her enemy. Rachael drifted off just before the sun cracked over the horizon. When she woke, Ana Sofia was gone and her alarm clock read close to noon.
Her heart slammed into her chest with bruising force.
Rachael dragged herself out of bed. Exhaustion weighed her down even with the sleep she’d eventually succumbed to. Slowly she dressed and stuffed her pajamas in her bag. All of her things were ready to go.
When she felt brave enough to open the door, Rachael half expected the pack to be gone when she climbed the stairs.
The house had emptied over the past week of most of the furniture, and now what few boxes they’d left lying around had vanished. Rachael slowly wandered through the empty home. Jackson’s room was empty, as was Nathan’s.
And, of course, Aaron’s.
As she descended the stairs with a heavy heart Rachael finally caught sight of someone. Nathan waved at her from the foyer, a brilliant smile lighting his face.
“Hey,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Mornin’, Miss Rachael.” When she neared the front door he took her hand and pulled. “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting.”
Outside an enormous moving truck took up the driveway. The Maserati remained parked directly before it, where Aaron took up the front seat.
Rachael drew in a deep breath and turned to her brother. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Oh his way,” Jackson assured her. “Don’t worry. We’re not leaving until he gets you.”
That made her feel slightly better.
“I’m gonna miss ya,” said Nathan seriously. His dark eyes gleamed up at her. “But even if Aaron’s a butt about it, I’ll call ya.”
“Yes,” Ana Sofia insisted loudly. “Also me!”
Jackson wrapped his sister in a long hug, rocking her slightly. “I don’t think we can come back,” he admitted softly. “But we’ll bring you to us.”
Rachael uttered a short, humorless laugh. “That’ll be weird. I’ll look older and you’ll maybe cut your hair again.”
A low gravelly sound reached them as her father’s car turned into the driveway. Rachael exhaled painfully, watching as Aaron stepped out of the Maserati and went to greet her father. Henry Adair met his handshake, looking gruffer yet less sallow than when Rachael had last seen him.
Jackson followed her gaze. “Dad looks better.”
“Lots,” she whispered.
He frowned at her in her periphery. Then he leaned in and said almost too softly, “When did you start liking Aaron?”
Rachael stiffened even as her ears burned. She clamped her mouth shut and shot her brother a dirty look. He returned her glare with a knowing smirk.
“Girls don’t find that attractive,” she hissed.
“I’d say guys don’t find stubbornness attractive, but it already looks like I’m wrong,” he shot back with quiet smugness.
Nathan cut between them, his attention piqued. “Who are you whisperin’ about?” Jackson placed a large hand on his head and shoved the boy away. While Nathan complained, Rachael raised her eyes to the sky and smiled.
She would miss even small moments like this.
Within moments a familiar presence made her skin tingle. Rachael tentatively looked back to find Aaron standing before her. He caught her eyes for the first time in days.
“Ms. Adair,” he said politely. “Do you have your bags?”
She drew in a wavering breath but managed a false smile. “Yeah. Downstairs.”
He nodded and started toward the house. Halfway there he called back sardonically, “Am I a gentleman or a bellboy, Ms. Adair?”
Muttering some choice words beneath her breath, Rachael rigidly turned and followed him in. Out of sight of the others, the urge to yell at him began to swell in her throat. Why, after all this time of barely pretending she existed, did he have to be so snarky and condescending?
And why did it have to hurt knowing she would miss it so much?
Down in the finished basement Aaron found her bags. He handed her the backpack, which Rachael grudgingly slipped on. Once she was done he held out her overnight bag.
When Rachael reached out to grab it, Aaron grasped her hand with his free one, finally unhindered by a splint. He pulled her close. She paled and screwed her eyes shut, her heart thudding in fear.
But then she felt a soft spot of warmth on her forehead. Rachael gradually opened her eyes and stared at his collar. It took her a few moments of enjoying the sensation to fully appreciate that he was kissing her forehead.
Aaron’s hand drifted to the back of her head, holding her firmly in place. When he stopped his lips were still close enough to tickle her skin as he spoke softly.
“Please take care of yourself, Rachael.”
She took a couple steadying breaths. “I... I thought you hated me, or....”
Aaron stepped back and shook his head. “Sore at how you handled the moment back during our little encounter with Holden,” he admitted. “But I do not, and cannot, hate you.”
Rachael slung her overnight bag over her shoulder and tried to find the words she wanted to say. Instead she blurted, “Will I see any of you again?”
H
e smiled faintly, and for once it lacked anything negative. Aaron just seemed tired. “I am certain the pack will be in touch.”
“But you?” she pressed.
He lowered his eyes for a moment. Rachael realized this was hurting him just as badly. “And I,” he said in gentle but firm tones, “want you to continue living on your terms. Enjoy college life. Decide what you want to be.”
“Aaron,” she said, terrified but unwilling to leave it like this. “I won’t do any of that unless you promise I can see you someday, too. Even if it’s just to confirm that all of this was a stupid mistake.”
His eyes were as unreadable as an empty wall. But finally he nodded. “I cannot say when. But someday. If you at least try to live your life as though I were not in it.”
A touch of relief spilled into her. It wasn’t the promise she wanted, but the shuttered look in his eye warned her that Aaron was not allowing this up for debate. Rachael could take it or leave it.
So she took it. If one thing never changed about Aaron, it was his ability to keep a promise.
Rachael started to walk past him, hesitated... and then kept going. She wanted to do so much more. She wanted to kiss him again, get him to also promise to call her often, beg him not to leave Keeton. At the very least she wanted him to catch her in that fiery embrace again.
But it all ached so much as it was. She couldn’t bear to be alone with him any longer. And she certainly couldn’t lose what she had left of her dignity.
Outside her father spoke to Jackson. Something about cars, of course. Rachael almost hesitated to intrude, but the men saw her before she could do anything about it. They stopped when she exited the front door, both looking at her with very different expressions; her brother’s sad and her father masking his joy with gruffness—something she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Ready to go?” Henry asked bluntly.
“Yeah.” Rachael turned to the others and tried not to look back at the house. She smiled. “Bye, everyone.” After receiving hugs from the kids, she looked at her brother and blinked back tears. “Bye, Jackie.”
Call of the Lycan (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 3) Page 18
