Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(41)

“I am and I don’t.”

“Both your parents are gone?”

“Yes.”

“But you have a brother?”

She took a bite. “He’s dead.”

Her short answers were killing him . . . she could see the frustration in his face. “I’ll give you the condensed version, and then we’re talking about something else.”

AJ put his food down and rested his hands on the sides of his plate, offering his full attention.

“My mother whored herself out to my father. After she had me, she attempted to blackmail him for money, so he murdered her.”

AJ’s smile faded.

“I grew up in a series of foster homes until I was old enough to be enrolled in Richter. I didn’t know it at the time, but my father’s wife, Alice . . . my half brother’s mother, knew about me the whole time. She kept me hidden at Richter, and Richter taught me how to defend and protect myself once I graduated. Once out, Alice was there, offering me employment to watch over her son, Fedor, and eventually his wife. Keep them safe from Alice’s then ex-husband, whom she didn’t trust. I had no idea Fedor was my half brother. But like all secrets, eventually things came to light. Alice died of cancer the same week my father murdered his own son.”

AJ’s jaw had dropped open. “Jesus.”

“No, I don’t think Jesus was there. I failed at keeping my brother alive, but I took Alice’s request to the grave and kept watch over Trina. Where I met Reed . . . and eventually Neil.”

“And your father?”

“He went after Trina through her second husband. I intervened. Now he’s dead.”

AJ’s jaw dropped. “You killed him.”

“I didn’t have the pleasure.” She rubbed her neck as if she still felt the man’s hands squeezing the life out of her. “Reed saved my life and the authorities took my father’s.”

AJ blew out a breath. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“The night you and I met, you asked me what I would do if my sibling ended up dead.”

“I remember that.”

“I stopped at nothing to find the truth behind my brother’s death and didn’t even learn he was my brother until halfway through my investigation.”

“That’s why you’re helping me.”

Sasha sat back, willed her pulse to slow down. “That is why I started to help you. Now it’s personal.”

He dropped his hands to the table. “I don’t know what to say.”

He appeared genuinely concerned for her. Not that she knew what to do with that emotion. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“I told you my story. What’s yours?”

A puff of breath came from his mouth. “Nothing like yours.”

“Few are.”

He sat back in his chair, picked up his coffee. “My father is guilty of many things, but murder isn’t one of them. He loves his career more than his family. He chased his political life all the way to Germany, as you know. Bounced around every time the White House changed hands. He expected all of us to bounce right along with him. My mother has stuck with him, for the most part. I head butted authority, as you found out. Guilty of theft because I could, not because I needed what I stole.”

“Breaking and entering? Grand theft?” she asked, knowing that’s what she had read about him.

“Yeah. All to gain attention from Daddy. Which I did. He was six months from taking the position in Germany and he gave me an ultimatum. Richter, with my sister . . . or the military.”

“You didn’t do either.”

“No. I told him to screw off. Finished high school and went to community college for a couple of years.” He finished his coffee and pushed away from the table. He grabbed the pot warming on the sideboard and refreshed his cup and then hers as he talked. “I straightened up my shit.”

“You wanna start over with that comment?” Sasha asked, her question a warning.

“I got better at what I did,” he confessed. “Had a close call a couple years ago.”

“Why do you do it?”

AJ met her stare. “Same reason you put on wigs and flee the country with fake passports. Adrenaline. It’s never boring.”

“Stealing cars is nothing more than an adrenaline rush?”

He didn’t even attempt to look embarrassed about his choice of extracurricular activities.

“I’ve considered giving it up.”

She shook her head. “No, you haven’t.”

“I have. I just need something else to take its place and a good reason to find something else to do with my time.”

“Like searching for your sister’s murderer?”

Some of AJ’s smirk left his lips. “I haven’t stolen one car since her death.”

“How do you stay under the radar?” she asked. Because while they assumed AJ still had sticky fingers, she and Reed weren’t finding any concrete proof he was actively stealing anything.

He paused, his lips pressed together.

“It’s called getting to know you, AJ.” She used his words against him.

He smiled. “I work alone.”

“You have to have some contacts when off-loading . . .”