Page 19 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

Alek

“ G o away,” comes Luke’s mumbled reply, moments after my knuckles gently rasp on the supply closet. I try not to think about how ironic it is that we’re about to find ourselves alone in yet another closet.

“I want to talk,” I tell him.

Silence.

“You can’t pretend you’re not in there,” I say lamely, my half-ass joke falling flat .

More silence.

“Luke, you are not a disappointment. Whoever put that in your head is a liar.”

“You don’t even know me. Not really.”

“I know you have a brilliantly creative mind, that you’re a loyal friend to my son, and I see the effort you put into your work. That’s all I need to know. Now, will you please let me in?”

A heavy moment of silence passes, and then the lock on the closet door quietly disengages with a click.

I let out a relieved sigh, taking a moment to mentally prepare myself for what could very well be an intense conversation before pulling the door open and slipping inside.

The sight in front of me makes me freeze, something cold and unpleasant twisting in my gut.

Along the back wall, between two rows of shelves lined with paper and printing supplies, sits Luke.

His knees are pulled up to his chest, and his face is buried in them.

His blonde locks obscure his face from view, but his shoulders are shaking.

Although he’s trying to be quiet, a small hiccup escapes. It’s followed by a broken sob.

Alarm slithers through me, my long strides carrying me to him within seconds. Sliding down against the wall, and ignoring the slight protest of my knees, I sit next to him so we are shoulder-to-shoulder. Throwing my arm around his waist, I pull him half-way onto my lap.

“It’s okay,” I say softly. Shit, is my voice shaking?

I throw my other arm around him, squeezing him to my chest as I begin to rock. It breaks my heart a little when this normally sassy, and sometimes snarky, brat clings to me with deep, body-wracking sobs. His fingers dig into my sides as he buries his face in my chest.

“I’ve got you,” I tell him quietly, ignoring the way my throat constricts. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you… ”

We remain like that for several long minutes, me rubbing a hand along his back as his cries slowly subside. My soothing murmurs cease as he begins to still, his muscles tensing like he’s just now taking stock of the situation.

I could throttle whoever made him feel this way.

Luke sniffs one last time, my arms falling as he pulls away. His cheeks are still wet, his red-rimmed eyes swollen, and an errant strand of hair clings to his forehead. Unable to help myself, I reach up and brush it away.

“Are you going to fire me now?” he asks, his scratchy voice sounding defeated and sad.

My forehead wrinkles as I try to make sense of his question. “You think I would fire you for having a bad day?” I ask softly.

He shakes his head, averting his gaze as he begins picking at the black nail polish adorning his fingers. “I fucked up, and I was an asshole most of the day.”

I shrug. “If you want to get rid of me, you’ll just have to quit. Sorry.”

This earns me a real chuckle, his lips pulling into a reluctant smile. My heart warms at the sight of it as I gaze at him, completely mesmerized. It feels like finding a rainbow after a heavy thunderstorm.

Then his smile slips. “I kind of need this job.”

“Does it have anything to do with your bruise?” I intentionally keep my voice soft and gentle, knowing I’m likely probing at a fresh wound I know nothing about.

Let me in, baby. Let me fix it.

He nods silently, still picking at his nail polish.

Reaching over, I still his hands. Watching for any sign of discomfort, I gently thread my fingers through his and bring them to my lap.

He watches me somewhat warily, surprise flickering across his face.

But he doesn’t act as though he wants to pull away.

“I—my—” He blinks, chewing on his lower lip as he closes his mouth.

I don’t know why, but this moment feels important. My heart begins to thump.

Let me in.

“My mother is alive,” he blurts out.

I blink.

Then I blink again.

“I’m…sorry?” I hedge.

Luke sucks in a lungful of air, almost as if he’s revving up for a long story.

“She died when I was a baby. Like post-partum complications or some shit. And then my dad died when I was eleven, and Jax raised me. And then about two years ago, I ran into Evelyn. And she told me not to tell Jax, because she wants to come off the pills first. She said she left us because her drug problem makes her a shitty mother.” His laughter is dark.

I stare.

And stare.

“Um…what?”

He gives me an apologetic grin. “Sorry, Jax is my brother.”

I shake my head. “No, I know that. It’s everything else that was a bit of a…jumbled mess.”

His cheeks pinken.

“Who is Evelyn?” I ask.

“Eve is my...” He cringes. “…mother.”

“I thought she was dead.”

He sighs. “I’m beginning to think you’re not even listening. ”

I narrow my eyes, pinching his side and grinning when he jerks away with a yelp. “Start over and tell me the whole story from the beginning. Maybe take a breath this time,” I tease him.

He sighs. “Fine.”

I wait patiently while he gathers his thoughts, his fingers plucking at his bottom lip.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and begins. “I never had a mom growing up. It was just me, my brother Jax, and Dad.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Dad told us Evelyn died in the hospital, after giving birth to me.”

I tilt my head, picking up on the way he avoids referring to her as his mother when possible. Interesting.

“I never thought to question it. I mean, why would he lie about something like that?” he continues, his eyes downcast as he absentmindedly plucks at a loose string on his skinny jeans.

I suck in a sharp breath before discreetly peering around the closet. Am I being pranked? Why does this story sound like a Lifetime movie?

Luke continues. “Maybe there’s a reason why he didn’t want us to know the truth. I’m guessing he was either trying to protect us, or he loved her too much and wanted to paint her in a better light.”

I scratch my jaw. “So, you grew up thinking she was dead, but in reality, she left?”

He nods.

“Shit.” A whoosh of air escapes me as I take the new information in. “So, what does Jax have to say about it?”

He shakes his head in quick, jerky movements, looking almost panicked. “He doesn’t know, and he can’t. She made me promise.”

When I hold up two palms in a placating gesture, he seems to settle. “Okay, but why?” I ask .

“I was on a double date a few towns over with my girlfriend one night, and I forgot my wallet in the restaurant. I left them in the car to go grab it and when I came back out, there was a woman out there asking for money.

“I gave her twenty bucks, and she looked startled to see me. Like she couldn’t believe I was there. It was weird. Then the whole drive home, I kept thinking how familiar she looked. I swore I knew her somehow.” He shakes his head, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Maddie—my girlfriend at the time—asked me if something was wrong. And I just lied. I don’t even know why, because something about the woman kept bugging me, but I didn’t know how to explain it without sounding crazy.” He pauses to give me a sideways glance. “Are you still with me?”

I nod, and his lips stretch into a knowing grin at whatever wide-eyed expression I’m giving him.

“I realized she looked just like the woman I had seen in family photos taken before I was born. Jax and Dad both have— had , in Dad’s case—black hair.

It always bothered me that I looked so different from them.

Sometimes it made me feel like I didn’t fit in,” he says quietly, fingering a strand of blonde hair.

“She has blonde hair and green eyes like me. And her features…they are really similar to mine.”

Like a broken record, I continue nodding.

“I snuck into the basement at Jax’s house one day and dug through the old family albums. I found a picture of her when she was pregnant. She was standing next to Dad and Jax, and even though she looked different the night I ran into her, I just knew.”

“What did you do?”

He sighs. “I pretty much stalked that restaurant for weeks hoping she would come back.”

“I’m guessing she came back. ”

“I confronted her. At first, I was really mad because she left me and Jax all alone. She chose to leave and let us believe she was dead.”

Luke and I could join the Shitty Parents Club together .

“And then what happened?” I ask.

He shrugs. “She didn’t really seem too thrilled to reunite with her son. I guess I should have taken that for the sign it was.”

Oh God, I don’t like where this is going.

He continues. “She told me she left to protect us and said her sons deserved better than a drug-addicted mother who couldn’t hold down a job.

When she said she was trying to get sober, I offered to help.

I was desperate to help actually, even though she kept telling me to leave.

I had never had a mother, and I thought, ‘This is my one chance.’ How many orphans lose both of their parents and get the chance to get one back?

” His voice sounds small, so I squeeze his hand.

“When I offered her money for rehab, she finally gave in.” He chuckles dryly.

“I know now it was the money, but I saw my opportunity, and I was so blind to what she was doing that I pretty much gave her whatever she wanted. I even moved her into an apartment here in town. The only time I hesitated was when she told me not to tell Jax. But every time she asked for money, I gave it to her. In the beginning, I believed her when she said she needed it for groceries or to put gas in her car.”

I clear my throat. “Why not tell Jax though?”

He shrugs. “She says she doesn’t want Jax to see her that way, but sometimes I think there’s another reason she isn’t telling me.

When she made me promise, she had this look in her eyes like she was two seconds away from leaving again.

And I had just found her, and I couldn’t…

” He turns to me with beseeching eyes, an imploring look on his face, like he’s desperate for someone to understand .

“You couldn’t give up your one chance to have a relationship with your mother, not even for Jax,” I supply softly. He nods, his tense shoulders relaxing.

“Next thing I knew, I was spending every weekend with her. Helping her every time she took too many pills or any time she went through withdrawals. Then I started missing work and staying out late every time she got high because I wanted to make sure she was safe. Pretty soon, it started interfering with my job. Then my relationships. Every time I was taking care of her, I had to lie. I would tell Jax or Maddie I was at a party. Before I knew it, I had dug myself into a hole I couldn’t crawl out of.

They started to see me as this irresponsible kid who just liked to party. ”

Maddie. Right. The ex-girlfriend. Why do I hate the thought of him with someone else?

“Eventually, I took a break from my college classes so I could work full time and save money to send her to rehab.”

Jesus. And nobody knew what he was really going through.

“Where does the bruise come into this story?” I ask, mentally bracing myself.

He looks away. “Her boyfriend hit me.”

The swift rush of anger startles me, my entire body vibrating with tension as I barely stop myself from asking for his name and location. Visions of me slamming my fist into the stranger’s face assail me and make my blood pressure rise.

Only the sound of Luke’s voice brings me back to reality.

His story continues, every bleak detail of his weekend after he left me Friday night.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my head thumping back against the wall as I ride waves of self-loathing and disgust. I spent my weekend working out, watching the football game, and jerking off in my bedroom to thoughts of Luke while he was being assaulted by his mother’s boyfriend and then abused by said mother.

There was no way for me to have known, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking I should have been there to take care of him.

He finally wraps the story up, his eyes sliding up toward the ceiling with an anguished expression. “I know it’s the drug addiction talking. She just needs a really good rehab and a good support system. I’ve done some research, and I know it’s possible for her to beat it.”

Based on what he’s told me about her, I’m not sure she wants the same things Luke wants. But I don’t think he’s ready to hear that yet.

“I’ve been trying to get her help, but I’m such a shitty son, I can’t even get this one thing right. And if Jax finds out, he’ll never want to talk to me again.”

Shit, has he always felt this way about himself, or is that his mother’s voice in his head?

Regardless, I know what the next move is.

Luke has been at his breaking point today, and over my dead body will I let his mother break him.

Besides, I’m not sure if it’s safe for him to return home if his mom’s boyfriend is still around.

Although I don’t understand where these feelings are coming from, I need him to be safe the way I need air to breathe.

I squeeze his hand, and in a firm, uncompromising voice, I say, “You’re coming home with me tonight.”