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

by Deidre Huesmann

  Grateful, Rachael turned her fury on Aaron. “Do you enjoy ruining his life that much?”

  Aaron shrugged. His smile sank, smooth impassiveness in place. “About as much as you enjoy remaining willfully ignorant, it seems.”

  It had been months since Rachael felt the urge to strike someone; Holden’s loss of temper under any circumstances with this man was more than fathomable. Yet she also imagined Aaron was far quicker, stronger, and more perceptive than Coleen had been on the doomed class field trip. This was not a situation where she could lash out and crawl away relatively unscathed.

  Hoping her voice was as firm as her clenched fists, Rachael said, “Holden wouldn’t lie to me. Not anymore.”

  Condescending pity glimmered in Aaron’s gaze. “Any man who fears losing the woman he loves will lie to her in some way. Untruth is rarely so simple to detect, Miss Rachael.”

  He just has to have an answer to everything! She jammed her fingers into her pocket, forcibly extracting her evidence and thrusting it into Aaron’s face.

  The man didn’t even blink. Ever so calmly, he stared past the tooth at her and said, “What does this have to do with your brother?”

  “We found this in the woods,” said Rachael stubbornly. “I know it’s not the girl Jackie... found, and I know you guys didn’t find other bodies, either. I’d bet my brother’s life you won’t find any. Go look. I’ll wait.”

  If anything could infuriate her more, it was Aaron’s lack of observance to the tooth. His apparent uncaring made her want to scream again. What he said next didn’t ease that desire.

  “A child’s missing tooth means nothing in what is essentially a public park.”

  “Then why didn’t anyone see it yesterday?” she demanded.

  Abruptly, Aaron turned. Rachael hadn’t heard anything, but a tell-tale squeak spoke of an occupant’s surprise. The alpha beckoned. As Nathan reluctantly slunk out from the shadows, Rachael bit her tongue to stave the sharp replies she had prepared.

  What happened next muted her.

  Nathan lifted his dark, quizzical gaze to her hand. His silvery brows bunched. “Miss Rachael, why d’you have my tooth?” A slight, new lisp accompanied his small voice. Even in the dark the gap between his front and canine teeth was readily apparent.

  No. Fear clutched her throat, just as jolting and horrid as the day Roxi had attempted to squeeze the life out of her. Rachael didn’t want to swallow that her fervent search had been in vain.

  How had nobody known? Why wasn’t this spoken of? Rachael recalled every time she lost a tooth, she either cried or ran to show off to her excited mother.

  Aaron shrugged slightly in response to her shock. “I have not imparted ludicrous ideas into my brother’s head. The tooth fairy is a fable for humans, not us.”

  It was like he could read her mind.

  Without waiting for further excuses, Rachael turned her back. She ignored Nathan’s keening call for her to return, pretending she was deaf. In that moment, she desperately wished she was.

  The door of the house slammed behind her.

  Exhaust from the clunker car threatened to choke her, though Rachael’s throat was already tight. Inside, Holden’s warmth and understanding sympathy awaited her. He gave her a brief, fierce hug. Then, without questions, he backed out and sped off toward her home.

  Halfway there, Rachael tossed her useless evidence out the window.

  Chapter Twelve

  As the door slammed shut, Aaron reminded himself that in spite of her mature circumstances, Rachael was in fact merely a teenager. He had to exercise more patience with her as a result.

  Still, he would be lying if he didn’t admit he lost a little more respect for her each time she turned a blind eye to Holden’s faults. Puppy love certainly gripped the two with ferocity. That Holden could tip Rachael’s world toward destruction yet somehow hoist the entire blame on his pack and she wouldn’t notice... well, perhaps Holden deserved some credit for his not wholly unintentional deception.

  Nathan smartly went upstairs without being told. Aaron meandered toward the living room, allowing only the natural nightlights from outside to cast pale beams into the house. He stretched out lengthwise on the couch. Comfort did not make itself present, but he hadn’t particularly expected it to. Aaron covered his eyes with the crook of his arm and let out a quiet breath.

  He hated to admit it, but Rachael’s presence had been the deciding factor in allowing Holden to live. Not Jackson’s plea, not the glimmers of protectiveness he still held toward his former pup, but Rachael simply standing on his front porch.

  Sanjana would have been severely disappointed in him.

  A smirk brushed across Aaron’s lips. He had been recalling his former alpha quite a bit lately. There was no shame in admitting he missed her time to time, but it was a little disconcerting that of all the times the strength of his pack fractured, it was when Holden upset the balance that she came to mind so often.

  Insolent pup.

  The soft padding of feet against hardwood floor told Aaron he had company. He didn’t move.

  His brother’s voice sounded softer than normal. “Jackson says thanks.”

  “I see.”

  Nathan took hold of his arm, moving it until Aaron acquiesced and looked at him. The boy wore an unusually solemn expression, adding years even Aaron often forgot he possessed. Even though lycans lived at least a couple centuries, their mental and emotional maturity remained stunted for the most part. Perhaps that was the tradeoff for a longer lifespan.

  “I miss Roxi,” said the boy quietly.

  Aaron frowned but sat up so his back was against the armrest. He motioned for his brother to take a seat, and Nathan chose a spot just beside Aaron’s feet.

  He waited for the boy to continue his thought, and eventually Nathan found his words. “She didn’t deserve what we did to her,” said the blond in a small voice. “We should have saved her.”

  How many times had he replayed those last moments of her life, trying to find a way to get out of the situation? Though Aaron was chock full of regrets, he simply could not imagine any other way to deescalate the confrontation in the woods. Not without risking both Rachael and Jackson’s lives.

  “I know,” he murmured.

  Nathan’s lips pursed. He glanced around the dark living room. “Did you kill her ‘cuz it was my fault?”

  Blinking, Aaron stared at his brother. “Not at all,” he assured him, though his voice came out stiffer than he would have liked. “Beatrice made her decisions. She brought on her own death.”

  Nathan looked dubious. “Like Jackson.”

  “Jackson is different.”

  “Only kinda.”

  “Kind of,” Aaron corrected him wearily.

  Nathan’s dark eyes were translucent with fury. “Roxi didn’t mean t’hurt Miss Rachael.”

  “Yes, she did,” snapped Aaron. Much as he loved his brother, he grew tired of his blind love for a dead girl even if that dead girl was once part of their pack. “Her actions were quite deliberate, as were yours.”

  “Then why didn’t you kill me, too?” Nathan all but shouted. Tears sprang to his eyes and overflowed down his rounded cheeks. “You made me bury her. You said it was my fault!”

  Aaron snatched his brother’s arm with supernatural quickness. Though they were both quite old, Nathan still seemed surprised at his speed. He tried to jerk away, but Aaron held firm and forced his brother to look at him.

  “No,” said Aaron. “I said you were complicit in her actions. You aided her in spite of knowing her intentions. Rachael was not our enemy, yet you abetted in Beatrice’s conspiracy to ruin her life.”

  His brother continued to cry. Little whimpers and hiccups tangled his words as he spoke. “But Miss Rachael’s life was already ruined. That’s why we were gonna ask her to join us.”

  Aaron relaxed his grip but did not release the boy. “Until Holden told me otherwise, I was not aware Ms. Adair had begun mending her situation with n
ew friends. Either way, the call was not yours nor Beatrice’s to make.”

  “Please stop calling her that,” begged Nathan. His voice cracked and broke on the last word until he dissolved into hysterical sobs.

  There was always a unique mixture of guilt and love when it came to his brother. Aaron often found himself fed up with Nathan’s childishness, yet loathed that he felt such a horrid thing toward the only flesh and blood he had left. (Though distant, they truly were the last of their living family.) With a heavy sigh, he scooped the boy up and pulled him into his lap. Nathan stiffened at first but then collapsed onto his brother. He curled up in Aaron’s lap, and Aaron wrapped his arms around the small body of his brother and closed his eyes.

  He waited with strained patience until Nathan’s crying subsided. Once Aaron was certain the boy could form intelligible sentences again, he murmured, “Why does that name upset you so?”

  “’Cuz Roxi hated it,” said Nathan in muted tones. “She liked being called Roxi.”

  “She enjoyed quite a few different names over the course of her life,” pointed out Aaron dryly. “More than most of us.”

  “It’s sad,” Nathan agreed dejectedly. “But… the last name she wanted was Roxi. That was who she was before she died.”

  “Generally, it is considered polite to refer to the dead by their given name.”

  “I dunno. It just always seems sad to me.” Nathan shifted against him to get more comfortable. “She wanted you to notice her, an’ not me, but she still wanted it and you never liked her more’n a wolf.”

  A frown touched Aaron’s face. “I did not hold romantic feelings toward her, if that is what you are referring to.”

  Nathan sighed.

  Aaron cocked his head to the side. “What would you have suggested I do?”

  Silence permeated the room for a few good spaces. At last, Nathan admitted, “I dunno.”

  And that truly was the crux of the entire situation with Beatrice. There had never been a good solution, not with the way Aaron had chosen to raise her for so many decades. All he could do was tighten his arms around his brother and hope to provide what comfort he could.

  For a while it was strangely peaceful. Aaron listened to Nathan’s breathing, occasionally interrupted with a shuddering breath. Then, at long last, the boy fell asleep with his head on Aaron’s shoulder and arms limp against him. Still Aaron waited, content to think of nothing while Nathan’s breathing grew slower and more shallow. Only when Aaron was convinced that the boy was deep in slumber did he gingerly swing his legs over the side of the couch. Nathan stirred slightly, but remained asleep as Aaron settled him onto the couch. He retrieved a blanket from an upstairs hall closet and returned to drape it over his brother’s slight shoulders. Nathan would not need it for warmth, but there was something to be said for feeling cocooned like a baby in the womb. Once he was satisfied his brother was comfortable, Aaron retreated to the master bedroom.

  Unlike most rooms in their home, his was threadbare. Not that Aaron lacked taste; he merely preferred at least one area of simplicity in his life. There was one bed up against the center of the back wall. Thick gray blankets coated a hard mattress surrounded by a darkly stained old-style oak frame. He had a small dresser, but most of his clothes hung in the closet cleaned and ironed to perfection. He had no nightstand, no television, not even a bookshelf. All his worldly possessions he could not stand to part with were relegated to the sound-proofed room downstairs.

  To Aaron, a bedroom was the final sacred ground. He’d had little personal space over the years, so when he could take advantage of it he was grateful. The only other item in his room was his portable laptop. Once he’d changed into a pair of sweatpants, Aaron settled on the bed. He opened his laptop and began reviewing the news. He quickly found an article on the girl Jackson had allegedly murdered.

  Yet his thoughts continually drifted back to Rachael. Or more specifically, her evidence.

  Aaron felt the explanation fit in time with Nathan’s missing tooth. But something about it unsettled him. No, he had not seen his brother lose his lateral incisor, but for his slow progression Nathan was right at that age.

  It made sense, and yet his gut stirred uneasily.

  The difficult part of it all was Aaron was beginning to doubt himself more and more. He couldn’t afford to show it. He was the alpha. But in the face of Rachael’s indignant fury, he had begun to question the entire situation. What if she was right? What if there was something else going on, and Jackson was innocent of even fading?

  Or what if, a nasty voice murmured in the back of his head, he was feeling a little too much affection for their ray of sunshine?

  Aaron slammed the laptop shut and encompassed himself in darkness.

  No, he decided. Certainly a fondness existed, but that was all. He owed her a debt for what Beatrice had done to her. That was all.

  But for all his attempts to reassure himself, a terrible sensation between dread and excitement wired his nerves. Sleep, he knew, was going to take its sweet time coming to call on this night.

  Two blocks from her drop-off point, Rachael blurted, “Let’s go to your place.”

  To her dismay, Holden didn’t even hesitate. “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  He scoffed. “So your dad can kill me? Thanks, but no.”

  She scowled. “Like you’re really afraid of my dad.”

  The car pulled to a stop, shaking so much that Rachael could feel her insides tremble. She turned to face him, but stopped short of speaking any further. Holden continued to stare into the darkness, his mouth tight. His fists gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles blazed white.

  “I think,” Holden said tersely, “this day has been long enough for both of us. You should go home and go to bed. Isn’t there school tomorrow?”

  Rachael folded her arms beneath her breasts. Though this was her stop, she refused to budge. “I’m not going to school.”

  Holden sighed and finally looked at her. “So tell your dad you’re sick.”

  “No,” she said, brightening. “I can call him from your place. I’ll tell him I’m at Vera’s and we had to study for a huge test.”

  “He can just call them,” Holden pointed out.

  Rachael nodded. “But he won’t. Daddy’s usually too tired. He’ll maybe stay up late enough to have a beer and go to bed.”

  With a loud groan, Holden banged the back of his head against the seat. “Ray, I can’t take you to my place. It’s not—”

  “What, safe?” she cut in. “I can’t think of a safer place to be.”

  A crooked, self-mocking smile lit his face. “Appropriate,” he said. “It’s not appropriate. And if your dad found out, he’d ban me from the house, too. If he doesn’t kill me first.”

  Immediately, Rachael flushed. She diverted her gaze out the side window, hoping against hope he didn’t see her embarrassment. He had a point, but... “Holden, I’m can’t—I mean, I’m not. Ready. For that.”

  Oh, god, it was so bad she couldn’t even babble. Now that the insinuation had been made, her imagination immediately sparked to life and spread like wildfire.

  In response to her discomfort, Holden smoothed over his tone. “I wouldn’t ever ask you if you weren’t ready. But that won’t change what your dad would think.”

  That was true enough. Still Rachael kept her voice as even as she could manage. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

  “Ray—”

  “If you don’t want me over, that’s fine. But if it’s about how it’ll look, it should be my decision.”

  The words tumbled out before she could fully cognize their meaning. Still she kept looking out the window, trying to avoid Holden’s reflection as his gaze bore into her. Rachael felt her heart clench painfully. A quiet, desperate panic threatened to burst from her throat.

  At last Holden said, “Do you at least want to grab some pajamas?”

  She forced herself to meet his gold-speckled eyes. “No.
You’ll drive off while I’m inside.”

  “I’m not that mean. I’d do it in front of you, before you reach the door.”

  Rachael laughed, a sweet pain rising from her lower ribcage as she did. Before she realized it her derisive giggles had melted to hiccupping sobs. It must have only been seconds, but it felt like forever before Holden put the car into park, unbuckled their seatbelts, and pulled her into an awkward hug. Despite the parking brake jabbing her side, Rachael clung to him as she gave in to her hysteria, all the emotions of the past couple days pouring forth, as though her eyes were pitchers full to the brim.

  Part of her knew he was right—what she was asking was completely out of line, not to mention unfair to Holden. But a larger part of her was terrified to be alone. Even if she did somehow get over to Vera’s, what could she tell her friend? “Yeah, so, my brother’s going to die because he’s having werewolf episodes and Holden’s pack leader is completely unreasonable. What’s what? Oh, yes. Holden is also a lycan.”

  Rachael desperately did not want to be alone. The knowledge of what was happening to her brother, the only completely hinged family she had left, threatened to knock her into an abyss. She had felt horrid after her mother’s death, but somehow the thought of life without Jackson existing at all just tore through her heart.

  If Holden found her crying over the top, he made no indication. He held her as tight as their cramped quarters would allow, occasionally brushing her hair. No words were said. Then again, none would have helped.

  When her sobs dissipated to sniffles, Rachael pulled away and swiped at her eyes. A large hand entered her vision, and then Holden was helping her wipe her tears. She managed a watery smile. Holden briefly flashed one back before starting the car again.

  Within minutes they were at her house. They sat in the car, and Rachael stared down the driveway to her front door. What a small yard, she marveled insanely. For being nomads, lycans seemed to live pretty privileged, comfortable lives.

  Finally Holden broke the silence, his voice slow and thoughtful. “Why don’t you grab your toothbrush, at least?” Rachael cast him a wary look, and he shrugged. “I’ll keep the car warm.”