Hidden Secrets Read online

  “Well,” Jason snarled, folding his arms across his chest. “Since I’m so much like Aaron, I’m sure you’ll come up with some wild conclusion to answer your own question.” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “You don’t need any help from me.”

  “Stop being ridiculous, Jason,” he bit back. “Now you’re just being silly.”

  “Silly? So now I’m being silly?” Jason’s raging insides matched the wild storm outside.

  “It’s pointless continuing this conversation tonight.”

  Jason seethed with anger. “I’m not Aaron. Stop comparing me to him. I don’t steal jewelry or cars, and I promise you I didn’t steal those exam answers.”

  Malcolm crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “Then tell me why I was called away from a missing person’s case to the dean’s office to discuss how my cheating son had in his possession the answers to an exam scheduled for tomorrow?”

  Typical.

  Jason knew his dad’s interrogation pose off by heart. He’d seen it enough times over the years. His father used it often when he and Aaron were being questioned, as if they were common criminals. At least Jason knew in his heart that he didn’t fall into that category. Aaron was another kettle of fish.

  “It’s obvious you’re in no state to talk. We’ll continue this conversation in the morning, and by then, hopefully, you’ll have calmed down.”

  Like heck I will.

  Jason stormed away, slamming his solid-oak bedroom door. “I wasn’t cheating,” he yelled. Why wouldn’t his father believe he wasn’t the one cheating?

  Aaron, that’s why.

  Jason’s gut tightened when he thought of his brother, and not in a good way. The law seemed to follow Aaron around like a bad smell. He’d covered for Aaron’s deceitful actions on more occasions than he could remember. He’d abused Jason’s trust one too many times.

  Jason’s expression darkened, remembering the last phone call he’d had with his brother. Aaron had confessed he’d done the jewelry robbery. He begged him to cover for him, promising Jason it would be the last time. As usual, Jason had.

  Jason sat on his bed and dropped his head into his hands. Aaron had kept his promise. It was the last jewelry shop he robbed, but it was also the first robbery where someone had been shot and killed.

  He closed his eyes and wanted to scream in frustration. He didn’t want to believe Aaron had killed that shop owner. It gutted him, but he could no longer trust a word that came out of his brother’s mouth. Aaron was the reason he wanted to study law. To uphold the truth, no matter who had committed the crime, even if it was his best friend.

  Jason had freaked when he’d caught Scott with the exam answers. How could his best mate be so stupid? Buying the answers to impress a girl. They’d been best friends since primary school, but as far as Jason was concerned, stealing was stealing.

  What was he going to do, serve them up to her on a silver platter, along with his balls?

  No girl was worth getting kicked out of university for. No girl. Why hadn’t he destroyed the answers the minute he’d wrestled them from Scott? If he had, the dean wouldn’t be threatening to expel him, and he wouldn’t be trying to prove his innocence.

  “This sucks.” He shot his basketball into his rubbish bin with enough force to send it sliding across the room.

  First thing tomorrow morning, he was confronting Scott, and he had better come clean. Best friend or not, this is his mess, not mine. Jason was going to clear his name, if it was the last thing he did.

  The window rattled under the force of the wind. He couldn’t remember the last time a storm was this fierce. It was as if it had a life of its own. The window flew open, the gale tossing his hard work off his desk across the room.

  “Crap,” he muttered, fighting against Mother Nature to close the window. A light flicking around their treehouse stopped him in his tracks. “What the…?”

  Who would be out in weather like this?

  His gut clenched. “That’s it,” he barked. “I’ve had it with those bloody Watson kids down the street, thinking they can use our treehouse whenever they want. Well, not anymore.”

  Storm or not, he zipped up his wind parka and bolted outside. He ignored the pelting rain and the soggy ground squelching under his shoes. He hadn’t been in the rundown treehouse for years and he hoped it would still hold his weight.

  Climbing the ladder, he shivered, the ice-cold wind slicing right through his body. Instant pain shot down his arm. Jason frowned. The thorns from the overgrown rosebush tore through his jacket and skin.

  Could this day get any worse?

  He reached the top of the treehouse and the element of surprise was in his favor. He charged through the door. “Freeze! There’s nowhere to run now, you little—” He stopped midsentence. He wasn’t looking at the Watson kids. He stared into the tormented eyes of a startled young woman.

  She sprang to her feet and anchored herself in the corner. His old wooden baseball bat was held defensively out toward him. Jason’s gut tightened at the distress deep in her eyes. He knew, without a doubt, if he moved an inch, he was a goner.

  She looked about his age. Her blonde hair lay wet around her face. Her tattered jeans and coat were still drenched from the last downpour. The lapel of her jacket flew open in the wind. Jason noticed the elegant stone in the hollow of her neck as the moonlight caught its slight movement. She certainly didn’t have much on in the way of warm clothes.

  If that is the only coat she has, she’s going to freeze to death.

  Was she a university student? He’d never seen her around campus before. If he had, he would definitely have remembered her. How could anyone forget those deep, emerald-green eyes?

  They were at a stalemate. There was only one way in and out unless she was foolish enough to jump out the window.

  She looked skittish as all heck. He wouldn’t put it past her to jump out the window.

  The icy wind tore through the treehouse. He shivered in semi-dry clothes. He could only imagine how cold she must be. He took a steady step toward her.

  “Stay back,” she yelled, her voice quivering in the cold. She shoved the baseball bat at him.

  Jason jumped back out of the way of the swinging bat, his funny bone colliding with the doorframe. “Darn it,” he said, rubbing his elbow, his brow creased in pain. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay right here.”

  He lost focus for one moment, and she bolted for the window.

  Over my dead body will she jump out a window five meters above the ground.

  “No!’ He lunged for her before she got her second leg out the window. He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and held on tight to the struggling girl.

  “Let me go,” she screamed, thrashing against his stronghold.

  Adrenaline roared through his veins. She kicked and screamed, fighting him with every ounce of her strength, but the alternative was not an option. “You can struggle all you like, but I’m not letting you jump out the window. You could seriously hurt yourself.”

  Her breathing jagged. It was as if she fought a war. She was afraid, but of what or whom?

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  She froze, suddenly still in his arms. Her back was hard up against his chest. He was sure she felt his racing heart. Time passed, and her heavy breathing slowed, matching his.

  “If I let you go, will you promise not to run?”

  She nodded, her face obscured by her bedraggled hair.

  Tension coursed through him. He slowly released his arms, ready to catch her if she went for the window again. She bolted to the other side of the treehouse, as far away from him as possible.

  What the heck?

  He spoke in hushed tones. “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that. It’s not the usual way I like to introduce myself, but I couldn’t let you jump out the window.”

  “Stay away from me,” she barked.

  He held up his hands. “Ok
ay, I’ll stay right here. Do you want to tell me why you’re hiding out in my treehouse?”

  “I…I…can’t. I’m sorry. Please, I need to leave. Now.”

  He was right—she was hiding. “You can’t leave.”

  “Why?” She gasped, her hands shaking almost out of control.

  “Listen, I meant what I said.” He paused. “I’m not going to hurt you, but have you seen the weather out there?” he said, pointing out the window. “That’s a bloody huge storm heading our way. I can’t let you leave in that.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just pretend I was never here.”

  He shook his head. “Well, that’s going to be pretty hard.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  He held up his arm and pointed to his torn parka. “See this?”

  She nodded.

  “I ripped it on the rosebushes climbing up here. Now every time I wear this parka, I’m going to be reminded of you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  “And besides, what sort of neighborhood watch person would I be if I didn’t offer help to a damsel in distress?” He smiled.

  Her brow creased. “I’m no damsel in distress.”

  “No, I don’t believe you are.” He sighed, and nervous energy skated up his spine. “By the way, my name is Jason.”

  He rocked from one foot to the other. The silence between them mounted like a volcano ready to erupt.

  “Amanda,” she whispered.

  Chapter 3

  PANIC splintered through Amanda’s head like an explosion.

  No, I can’t get caught now.

  She scrambled toward the small window, the only available exit, adrenaline driving her. He lunged, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her back from the window and hard up against his chest. She thrust back into him, struggling against his forceful grip. Kicking, she put every ounce of strength she had behind her movements.

  “Get away from me,” she yelled, bucking and screaming. “Let me go.”

  She was fast running out of options. He released his arms a fraction, and she sprinted to the farthest corner of the treehouse. She glared at him from beneath her tattered, wet fringe. Fresh rain droplets trickled down his jawline, beading on his tanned neck. His sun-streaked blond hair stuck to the side of his face. He ran his hand through it as if he were some sort of model.

  She edged herself farther into the corner, her arm wrapped tightly around her body, protecting her from the unknown.

  “Amanda,” she whispered.

  “Nice to meet you, Amanda.” He smiled, a soft and gentle smile. “So, I know my treehouse is one-of-a-kind, but I’m not sure how it will hold up against the approaching storm.” He paused. “You can’t stay out here all night in this weather.”

  “Can’t I?”

  I only need to stay long enough for you to leave, and then I can find somewhere else to hide for the night.

  His brow furrowed. “Well, you can, but if you want, you can come inside—”

  “No.” Fear snaked up her spine. “Please, just let me leave and I promise you’ll never see me in your treehouse again.”

  Goosebumps coated her skin. Where would she go? She couldn’t go back home, not after returning to find those men ransacking it. She swayed under the weight of her heartache.

  “Whoa, there,” he said, reaching to steady her.

  “Stay back,” she said, shoving the baseball bat into his personal space.

  “You look exhausted. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

  “Um…” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. How long has it been? She’d skipped lunch at uni today, but had hoped for a nice, hot meal when she got home. She shuddered, remembering how that had turned out.

  “That’s what I thought. Listen, I’m going inside to find you something and I’ll be right back.”

  “No,” she said, clutching his arm. He stopped and glared at her hand.

  She quickly withdrew it and held it tight to her chest, as if she’d just been burned by a branding iron.

  “Tell you what.” His voice startled her. “There’s no one in my house, except me. My dad’s on nightshift tonight so he’s already gone to work, which means you’ll be able to come inside without anyone seeing you. It’s got to be safer than staying up here.”

  Safe? Safe? How would he know what safe was?

  She shivered, the storm’s intensity building around her ears. She was so cold, her blood turned to ice in her veins. She couldn’t trust him, but what choice did she have? He did offer her an alternative for the night. A warm place to sleep.

  “Listen, if you’re worried about someone finding you, it’s just me and my dad. He’s on nightshift, and you’ve already met me…and I’ve even got some hot chocolate to warm you up.” He smiled. “Surely you can’t say no to hot chocolate?”

  Chills ran through her body. She was close to freezing. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about me?”

  “I promise,” he said, smiling, drawing a cross on his chest with his finger. A beautiful smile amidst a raging storm. “If you like, I’ll even go in first, just to make sure the coast is clear.”

  If she was gone before he awoke, he’d be none the wiser. Finally, she nodded.

  * * * *

  Amanda closed her eyes and stepped beneath the hot spray of the shower. She slowly thawed as the hot water drenched her chilled body. She savored the touch of it pelting against her skin, anything to wash away her crap day. Jason was right, a shower was just what she needed.

  When Jason had said she could stay the night, she’d thought he meant in a spare room. She hadn’t realized he meant in his room.

  What will my mother think of me, sleeping in a boy’s room?

  Amanda didn’t have much choice. She couldn’t very well go home to a ransacked house where they were probably waiting for her, or Maria’s, or anyone else’s place, for that matter. Every muscle in her body ached as if she’d been put through the wringer. There wasn’t time to think about that now. She had to find her mother and work out what was going on.

  Are you crazy or just plain stupid? How are you supposed to find your mother with this boy hanging around? It’s not as if she’s answering her phone. She cursed herself. You can’t trust him. You can’t trust anyone.

  She knew she’d have to tell him something, anything, to satisfy his curiosity. She’d have a warm, cozy bed to sleep in for the night and be up and gone in the morning before he even opened his dreamy brown eyes.

  She swayed under the coursing hot water, a sick feeling rooting itself in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t checked her phone since sneaking into Jason’s room. What if her mother had called? Worse. What if she’s called me for help or the battery has died?

  She jumped out of the shower, barely drying herself, and then threw on the pair of Jason’s old track pants and the university T-shirt he had given her. It was just like hers, only at least two sizes bigger. The clothes were clean and warm against her skin. Her damp hair hung down her back.

  Amanda paused, and she gripped the bathroom handle. Awkward didn’t begin to describe how she felt. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She sucked in a deep breath and eased the door open.

  Jason’s gaze found hers. They paused. Unsure what to say, Amanda froze. It was his soft words that drew her out.

  “You look much better.” He smiled. “I think that shirt looks better on you than me, but then again, I think you’d make a potato sack look amazing.”

  Amanda relaxed a little. “I’m not so sure about that, but thank you for the lend of the clothes. I’ll make sure you get them back.”

  “If you give me your wet clothes, I’ll put them in the dryer. They shouldn’t take too long to dry.”

  “Thank you,” she said, passing her wet clothes along.

  She quickly headed to her backpack and then grabbed her phone. Zero messages, zero missed calls. Why hasn’t
my mother called yet? Her chest tightened. What if she can’t?

  Amanda shook the devastating thought from her mind. She wouldn’t go there, not until she knew for sure.

  Jason returned. He swished his hand to the side, pointing at her sweater. “You can keep the clothes if you want. It’s not like I wear them anyway.”

  Amanda pointed to the power point beside the pull-out bed. “Do you mind if I use this to charge my phone?” She held it up. “Samsung. Crap battery needs charging all the time.”

  He nodded, and then pointed to the food on the dresser. “I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat so I made a toasted ham and cheese sandwich and there’s also some leftover lasagna.”

  “Thank you,” she said, eyeing the food as she plugged in her phone.

  He added, “My dad buys those shirts for me. He wants everyone to know that at least one of his sons made it to university.”

  The pain in his voice guttered Amanda. “One?’ she pried.

  “You really don’t want me to tell you about my pathetic life story.”

  Do I?

  “Yes. Yes, I do,” Amanda said, nervously twisting her hands. “It’s not like it’s going to be easy to fall asleep tonight.” Besides, the more he talks the less I have to.

  Amanda’s stomach reveled as the warm, toasted sandwich slid down her throat.

  “Well, it hardly constitutes a bedtime story, but I’m warning you, you may need some tissues or possibly a wastepaper basket to throw up in.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” She eyed the hot chocolate on the dresser. “Is that for me?”

  He nodded with a wink. “Best hot chocolate in Perth.”

  Amanda picked up the steaming cup and raised her eyebrows.

  Jason pointed to the pull-out bed. “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll fill you in?”

  Was she really going to stay in a strange boy’s bedroom? Alone? Stop being so pathetic. He’s only offered you a bed, for God’s sake.

  She made herself comfortable, and by the time he finished rehashing his eventful life with Aaron, Amanda realized how blessed her own existence had been as an only child. Her mother hadn’t always agreed with her, but at least she had her love and unconditional trust.