“My family used to live in Vermont.” He winced at the crack in his voice. “We had a huge property outside of Burlington, pretty much surrounded by forest.”
He halted.
Brett waited.
“I was a total brat when I was a kid,” he said gruffly. “I argued with my parents all the time, broke all their rules.”
He stopped again.
She waited.
“And I told you what Joey was like, right?”
“Perfect,” she murmured.
AJ’s heart clenched. “I know you don’t believe me, but he was. He was the perfect son, and I was the hell-raiser. I just wanted to run around in the woods and explore and do whatever the hell I wanted.”
“That’s what most kids are like,” she pointed out.
“Maybe. But I took it too far.” His hands clenched into fists, and he quickly had to loosen them before he crushed Brett’s fingers. “I don’t even remember what I was pissed off about, but one day I just flipped out about something my parents had done, some rule they’d probably tried to make me follow, so I ran away.” He laughed harshly. “I decided I wasn’t going to let them boss me around anymore. I was going to live in the woods and hunt for food and catch fish and live off the land.”
He went quiet, for so long that Brett didn’t wait this time.
“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.”