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

by Deidre Huesmann

  “Thanks,” she responded, yet again igniting a flame of ire and jealousy in Holden. She was showing far more gratitude than his leader deserved.

  Rachael stood with the rest of them. Reluctantly Holden tagged along all the way to the foyer, where Jackson and his sister said their elongated goodnights. But when Aaron was the last to leave, she stopped him. “When can I see Jackie again?”

  Holden shifted his weight impatiently.

  Almost as though his leader knew it aggravated him, Aaron appeared to deeply consider her question. “We still have living arrangements to make. But perhaps Sunday would work. I will have him call you.”

  Her responding smile was beatific. Then, in an abrupt move that made Holden’s blood run cold, she wrapped her arms around a visibly startled Aaron. “You’ve done so much,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget that.”

  Aaron’s smile was tender. Holden had to turn away before he gave in to his instinct to rip them apart and go for his alpha’s jugular. He didn’t want the pack in town, he didn’t want Aaron anywhere near him, and he especially hated that Rachael was hugging the man that very second.

  Holden was beginning to believe that he only wanted Aaron dead.

  Chapter Four

  If Rachael’s head could drift any higher in the clouds, she’d have been in heaven.

  It had been so long since she’d seen Jackson that she had begun to wonder if he would ever come home. She had not expected the date to be so soon, and she certainly could not have predicted the vast improvements. Jackson was smiling again. He was in shape for the first time in his life. Best of all, several times throughout the night she had witnessed his impressive reign on his temper. Excluding, of course, the incident with Holden—but she couldn’t find it in herself to stay angry with her brother. Too long had passed, and each day of the past couple years had reminded her just how much Rachael had taken her brother for granted. Never again, she vowed.

  Only when she closed the door behind Aaron Moreno did Rachael turn to find Holden enraged. Her joy wilted.

  “Hey,” she said cautiously, touching his arm. Holden stiffened. “I’m sorry. Jackie had no right to pick on you. But I’m happy he’s home.”

  “Me, too,” he muttered.

  Something was off, and Rachael’s instinct told her it was more than her brother. “What’s wrong?”

  Holden jerked away, his mouth twisting. “I’m glad you’re happy, but Aaron had no business being here. How could you treat him like that? He ruined your life.”

  Startled, Rachael needed a moment to collect her thoughts. “I know, but... he did it. He took care of Jackie, like he promised.”

  “So what? I could have done that. Any lycan could have. But none of them caused all this like he did.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” she argued, growing more frustrated and frightened by the moment. The direction this conversation was taking did not settle well with her. “You said it yourself; there aren’t a lot of you. He didn’t have to do what he did.”

  Waving his hands impatiently, Holden said, “Of course he did. He’s the alpha. He recruits new lycans and makes sure they survive, and the whole time he wrecks everything else around him.”

  “But he didn’t do this. Roxi—”

  “You’re not listening,” Holden shouted. “As the alpha, it’s all his responsibility!”

  Incredulous, she said, “So, what, was I supposed to kick him out?”

  “YES!”

  Rachael felt herself plummeting so quickly that she couldn’t see cloud nine anymore. “I couldn’t do that. I owe him—”

  “No,” Holden snapped, his arm cutting viciously through the air. “You owe him nothing. He’s just going to take Jackson away again, anyway!”

  Reality slapped her with its icy hand so hard that Rachael literally recoiled. Holden was right—Jackson couldn’t stay for long. Lycans aged too slowly to stay in one area too long before normal people started to suspect. Nathan was a prime example; even after two years he retained precisely the same nine year-old appearance. Only his hair had changed, grown out past his ears.

  But Rachael hadn’t been ready to address the brevity of her situation. Not yet.

  Blinking back tears, she said, “I think I’d like to be alone, now.”

  For a moment Holden looked as though he wanted to fight with her about that as well. Instead he threw his hands up, muttered an affirmative, and stalked out. Rachael winced when he slammed the door behind him.

  Rachael stood in the foyer, unsure what to do. Now that she was alone, the evening’s events sank in. Jackson was home—for how long, she didn’t know, but at least he was here for now. Aaron and Nathan were back, along with Holden’s resentment and fury. She hadn’t dealt with that side of him in so long. Certainly his ire had never been directed at her.

  Her thoughts swam like frantic salmon upstream. Rachael decided to get ready for bed. It was after midnight. Her birthday was over.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  Rachael settled into a plush corduroy chair, taking a sip of her vanilla steamer. She grinned. “I know. It’s great to have him home.”

  Her best friend blinked at her. “Oh—yeah. That’s awesome.”

  Rachael’s smile waned. “Wait. You don’t believe what, Vera?”

  Vera’s cornflower blue eyes clouded over. “That you just let Holden leave like that.”

  Odd how her romantic life—or lack thereof—seemed to be the highlight of her story. Patiently, Rachael raised her voice to be heard above the café bustle. “I was a little more focused on my brother.”

  “And that’s great, but...”

  “But?”

  Shifting uncomfortably, Vera said, “You said he ran away. What’s to stop him from doing it again?”

  That was a certainty, not a probability. But Rachael couldn’t say so. Vera, like most humans, was utterly unaware lycans existed. So far as Rachael knew, she alone was the only human in Keeton who grasped the keys to that secret. “Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly. “But I’d rather worry about it later.”

  “So worry about Holden now,” encouraged Vera. “You should call him. Apologize for making him mad.”

  Lowering her eyes to her drink, Rachael replied, “I don’t think I have anything to apologize for. Like I said, they started fighting, I asked them to stop; it was done.” She had left out all mentions of Aaron and Nathan. There was no way to tell the whole truth without implying something that wasn’t really there.

  Vera leaned forward, her voice soft but intense. “Look at it this way, Rache. Last night he comes over, you give him a nice, romantic dinner, and then whoosh!” She spread her arms emphatically, spilling coffee. “Your brother comes in and Holden’s playing back row trumpet with the rest of the underachievers. Except he’s been first chair this whole time until now. So now he’s thinking, ‘Damn, I could have kissed this fantastic girl I’ve been wooing, and she hasn’t really noticed because she’s got so much going on and I still have all these feels for her anyway, but her brother picked a fight, and suddenly now I’m the guy playing off-key!’ Can you really blame him?”

  Leave it to First Chair Vera to come up with a messy band analogy, thought Rachael with amusement. While her friend tried despairingly to blot coffee from her sleeve, Rachael said, “I said I thought he was going to kiss me.”

  “You said you had a feeling,” Vera corrected.

  “Still—”

  “My point is, you don’t have to exactly apologize for the fight. Just apologize for the night going sideways—even if it was because you’re just happy Jackson is home,” Vera added hastily.

  Rachael could certainly understand her point. As frustrated as she was over Holden’s tantrum, if he really had been planning to kiss her—or confess a strong liking for her, or ask her out, or even just tell her how great of a friend he found her to be—an intense moment had been ruined. She couldn’t have just ignored her brother, nor could she hide her gratitude toward Aaron. But she c
ould admit that she had hurt Holden’s feelings. She could even find it in her to say sorry for allowing her excitement to get the better of her.

  Slowly, she began, “I guess it wouldn’t...”

  “Shh!”

  Nonplussed by Vera’s sudden hiss, Rachael followed her gaze to the café counter behind her. Immediately she knew why her friend had cut her off.

  Ordering an obviously complex drink in a cold, crisp voice was a classmate Rachael knew all too well. Her bleached blonde hair had been traded in for a fiery red dye job, and her makeup had significantly subdued in the past couple years, but her haughty stance and high-fashion knock-off clothes were still the same.

  What are the odds Coleen would show up here on the same day as us? thought Rachael tiredly.

  And Coleen Thibodeaux had clearly noticed them. She set her jangling oversized purse on the bar beside the cashier, her frosty gaze zeroing on them. Rachael broke eye contact in time to catch Vera giving a tiny smile and a wave. Her smile disappeared, but her anxiety didn’t.

  “You still talk to her?” Rachael asked quietly.

  Vera wrinkled her nose. “After what she did with my ex? No way.” At Rachael’s questioning stare, she admitted, “But sometimes I’ll be nice. It’s easier.”

  If Rachael’s non-existent boyfriend cheated on her with her then-best friend, she didn’t think she could play nice with either of them. But Vera was a far more kind-hearted person. Usually.

  Despite her hopes, Coleen didn’t take the hint to avoid them. The clacking of her heels grew closer until she stood between their chairs, her feet spread and eyes boring into Rachael’s head. “I hear your brother came home.”

  Guarded, Rachael spared her a glance. “Yeah. He did.”

  “Must be nice, getting back the brother who abandoned you and your family after your mother died.”

  Sharply, Vera spoke up. “Don’t start things.”

  A meticulously drawn brow raised high on Coleen’s forehead. “Why would I? I meant it. Not everyone gets their family back.” At Rachael’s stunned quiet, Coleen continued, “You’re lucky. You’d better not waste it.” She took a sip of her drink, breaking her intense stare.

  Speechless, Rachael watched her turn on her heel and strut out of the shop. As always, Coleen turned heads on the way. Ice queens never seemed to lose their fatal allure.

  The girls sat in amazed silence for a few minutes. Finally, Rachael managed to inquire, “What was that about?”

  Vera lifted her eyes from the tiny table between them. “I honestly don’t know.”

  It wasn’t the oddest encounter she’d ever had, but Rachael could admit it was the most confusing in quite some time. With a shifty glance at the door, she brought her cooled drink to her lips.

  A few heartbeats passed before Vera promptly perked up. “So! What romantic method do you have in mind to make up with Holden?”

  Chapter Five

  I’m an idiot, thought Holden for a hundredth time that hour.

  In spite of the packed golf course, working at the counter left him with too much time to ponder. Once the guests had paid their fees, they either hopped into a cart and moseyed out to the first hole, or made a beeline for the dining area with cash in hand and mumbling rehearsed flirtations for the stunning bartender. The golf balls could only be arranged by cleanliness, color, and imperfections so many times before he found himself standing at the immaculate front counter, glowering at the beautiful day that seemed determined to contrast his inner turmoil.

  There had been no good reason to lose his temper at Rachael. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he hated Aaron. And yes, he did still wish she had told everybody sans Jackson to kick rocks. But she hadn’t, and it had been her birthday, and he had turned a night that should have been enjoyable into a screaming match borne of his own jealousy.

  Yet no matter how many times he told himself that there was no reason to be envious, his blood boiled. Aaron’s smug assertiveness. His pompous way of erupting back into their lives without so much as a peep about coming back. The way he had manipulated Rachael’s birthday to his own benefit.

  But weren’t you trying to ask her out on her birthday? Isn’t that manipulative, to a poor sweet girl who lost her mom and brother within the same few weeks?

  If only the passage of time had found a way to literally stomp his insecurities into oblivion.

  At the heart of it all, Holden knew damn well he was only angry because he had lost his chance. Not because of the interruption, but due to his lack of anger management. He shouldn’t have had to do it; he hadn’t needed to keep his temper in check.

  But that was the power Aaron maintained. Never had Holden hated a person so much as him.

  It wasn’t that Aaron had turned him. It wasn’t that he had dragged Holden along for over a century, gripping him on a tightly-reined leash and ordering him to forge false connections with other people over the years. It wasn’t even that Aaron was a cold dictator who did as he pleased, not caring what effects his decisions had on others outside of his pack.

  All of it boiled down to the time his alpha had done absolutely nothing to stop his pack from slaughtering Holden’s parents.

  Holden had been young, but his recollection was clear as the day it occurred. Over a century later his mother’s soul-wrenching shrieks of agony still echoed between his ears. The attack had been swift, and his small mind had captured every image better than the cameras that barely existed. The dusty brown muzzle that tore into his mother’s belly, the tiny gold-fringed white wolf savagely tearing at what had once been a homely yet sweet face. A distant howl he later learned was the alpha calling out the battle cry, just before Holden’s father screamed so loud that Holden could hear him from the distant fields. Brutal, bloody, and savage.

  And all little Holden had done was tighten himself into a smaller ball, tucked beneath the kitchen table where his mother had shoved him. Why the wolves didn’t go for him, he hadn’t known.

  Later he would. The mantra would sear his brain as the most important law a lycan could follow. Never attack the children.

  It was a stupid law, compared to the other atrocities Holden soon learned lycans took eager part in. While it had saved his life, it had also left deep mental scars that crisscrossed so many times his psyche hardly had a square inch unscathed.

  The bitter icing on the cake was that for all his trauma, for all the horror he witnessed, and for all the lies he had been spoon fed, what he had received in return was a new family that was nothing but callous, murdering, self-absorbed monsters.

  Now those monsters were back in Rachael’s life. She deserved that even less than he ever had.

  And she deserved better than his temper directed at her. He still had to find a way to apologize... if she would even speak to him.

  A flood of middle-aged gentleman from the bar served him a few minutes of distraction. Once he had them on their way, Holden glanced at his watch. Barely past noon on Sunday. He wondered if Jackson and Rachael had met up.

  Near the end of his shift, she walked in.

  The devastated uncertainty when her cloudy gray eyes met his caused his heart to throb with guilt. Unthinkingly, he abandoned his station. She stood riveted, and her expression stopped him short of throwing his arms around her, though he ached to do so.

  “I’m sorry,” he said right as she parted her lips. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  Her hands shot up. In a defensive move? Startled? “No, you did,” she said. He couldn’t help but smile fondly as she scrambled to give voice to her thoughts. “I mean, obviously you did, but it’s okay. I would have. Not yelled you. Not that you didn’t have a right to! I just mean—I’d be mad if you—um....”

  With a shake of his head, he replied, “Even if it wasn’t your birthday, I should have played nice.”

  Rachael lowered her eyes toward his knees. “I know how much you hate Aaron.” The mere sound of his name from her gentle mouth made Holden’s scars flare with fury. He bit his ton
gue and swallowed his pride. “And I know it was supposed to be just us,” she continued. “I’m sorry it wasn’t.”

  Amazingly, he was able to keep the edge of hatred out of his voice. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  A slow grin curved her mouth. “I was going to say the same, actually.”

  “But I make better cupcakes.”

  Her laughter was so abrupt it startled both of them. Yet they were able to exchange smiles, and the tension between them evaporated.

  Remembering he was at work, Holden glanced around. “Did Jackson come over?”

  Rachael followed his gaze. Finding nothing, she shifted her weight and replied, “Yeah. Not for long, though. Dad was there.”

  His head twisted back to look at her.

  Biting her lip, she explained how the story Jackson and the pack had concocted had turned Henry from shock to absolute rage. Rachael notably exempted a lot of the expletives from the story. More notably, Jackson was not welcome back in the Adair household.

  Holden rubbed his eyes to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind: that once again, Aaron’s actions had torn a family apart. Instead, he blew out a heavy breath and said, “I’m sorry.”

  To his surprise, Rachael smiled. “Don’t be. It just means I can see Jackie more outside. Maybe we can go hiking! He seems to like it now. How weird is that?”

  “Wait, your dad is okay with you seeing him?”

  Rachael lifted one shoulder. “He doesn’t want to see Jackie. He never said anything about me hanging out with him.”

  That made an odd sort of sense. Henry was furious with his son, under the impression he had abandoned his father and sister in their darkest hours. Yet apparently he was not so furious that he intended to keep the siblings from maintaining a relationship.

  “Well... cool,” said Holden lamely.