One Night of Trouble - Page 42/67

“What happened?” she urged.

“I was gone for hours. Built myself a little fort out of branches, stuffed myself with candy I’d stolen from the house. I was living the dream.” Bile rose in his throat and seared his windpipe. “And while I was having the time of my life, the whole neighborhood was combing the woods looking for me. It was late by then, two, three in the morning, and I’d been missing for more than fourteen hours.”

“Whoa. Your parents must have been freaking out.”

“They were in a panic. So was Joey.” AJ bit the inside of his cheek, so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. “I might have hated my parents, but I loved Joey. He was a damn good brother. Didn’t matter that he was eight years older than me. He treated me like I was his best friend. He took me camping, played catch with me, taught me how to fish.”

“He was looking for you that night?”

AJ clamped his lips together, trying to collect his rapidly crumbling composure. But he forced himself to go on. “He led the search party. It was dark out, and there were dozens of people traipsing around in the forest—because of me. I was the reason they were out there.”

“AJ…what happened to Joey?”

His throat closed up. Christ, he couldn’t breathe. His lungs had seized up.

Brett touched his cheek, her dark eyes shining with warmth and assurance. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

She’d given him an out. He didn’t have to keep talking. Didn’t have to think about the horror slashing his father’s face when AJ had found him on that rocky slope. The vicious bolt of betrayal that had struck AJ’s chest when he’d met his father’s eyes.

“I heard the shouts,” he choked out. “That’s what made me come out of my hiding spot. People were screaming, but it wasn’t my name they were screaming anymore.” His eyelids stung so badly his vision became a foggy blur. “He tripped, Brett. He tripped, fell down a hill, and broke his neck.”

Her sharp gasp echoed through the Jeep. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

She was touching his face now, cupping his cheeks, brushing her thumbs over the sheen of moisture leaking from his eyes. AJ sagged toward her, his forehead resting against hers as the old wounds he’d opened wreaked havoc on his body.

“He was out there that night looking for me, and he died because of me.” His heart beat faster, a frantic rhythm against his rib cage. “They blamed me, too.”

“Your parents?” she whispered.

His head dropped on her shoulder, and the familiar scent of her skin succeeded in clearing his head. He looked up and nodded. “They never said it out loud, but I knew they blamed me. Hell, I blamed myself. I got their favorite son killed. I took away their pride and joy.”

“I’m sure it must have felt that way, but from what you’ve told me, your parents don’t seem like malicious people,” she said quietly. “I’m sure they saw the situation for what it was—a tragic accident.”

“All they saw was me,” he corrected. “The son whose reckless actions killed Joey. And they had every right. I was selfish. I didn’t care about consequences. I just did whatever the hell I wanted, and as a result, my big brother died.” Self-loathing trickled down his spine in steady drops. “We left Vermont six months after the funeral. My parents couldn’t stand living in the house where Joey had grown up, so we moved to Boston, started over, and that’s when I made a decision. No, a promise.”

“A promise to what?”

“To be better, damn it. To be good.”

As Brett stared into AJ’s anguished green eyes, all the puzzle pieces slipped into place. God, the reason she hadn’t been able to pin down exactly who he was…it was because he was trying to be someone else.

The revelation brought a deep ache to her heart. The All-American good-guy hero image he tried to project was a direct result of his brother’s death. AJ had stepped up to take his perfect brother’s place, and in the process, he’d hidden his true self from the people in his life.

But not from her. Yes, she’d seen his gentleman side. She’d seen the easygoing, playful AJ. But she’d also glimpsed the sides he didn’t show the rest of the world. The bossy alpha male. The fighter. The business owner. The wild man who craved excitement and met any challenge.

“You are good,” she said fiercely. “And if your parents don’t see that, then screw them.”

But even as she said the words, she realized that the issue wasn’t with AJ’s parents. He didn’t see himself as worthy, and it was a flawed belief that had formed the night his brother died.

“Easier said than done,” AJ said in a tired voice. “I can’t just write my folks off. They’re good people, and I love them. It’s not their fault that I keep screwing up.”