“You might as well start.” He leaned back in his chair. Steepling his hands under his chin. Peering at her from under his lashes.
“I’m adopted.” She flung the words at him.
Okay, that was a new one. He did a double-take. What the fuck? He’d had a lot of weird shit spouted at him during his investigations. But never this one. People came up with the strangest tales when their lives were on the line. Weaving lies while he looked for the thread of truth that held the fabric of their story together. Unraveling the lies one strand at a time until he had what he needed. His brothers mocked his patience. But with her, when he needed it most, he had none.
“Go on.”
“My mother started using drugs in high school. By twenty, she was addicted and pregnant. My adopted father was her sister. She used to drop me off for him and his wife to babysit. Disappearing for a day or two before reappearing. Eventually, the stretches between those two things got longer and longer.”
“I see.” But he didn’t. Not yet. Somewhere in the cloth of her words was that strand he needed to make her story fall apart. There always was. “Go on.” Damn it, now he was repeating himself. “Continue, Jessa.” She raised her eyes when he used the nickname. But he only raised a brow. Ignoring the newness of the endearment on his lips.
“One day, she dropped me off with a note and twenty dollars, saying she couldn’t take it anymore. I was nine months old. I’ve lived with them ever since. “
“I see.” He scratched the early morning scruff already roughening up his skin. But he didn’t. How could he? Akim Ismailov was a murderer, a smuggler, an arms dealer. Hell, a lot of things, but he loved his kids. They’d never had a reason to doubt that. Never. Family was everything.
“Even though she left me that first year. She kept in touch. Letters from prison saying she’d changed and asking for money. From halfway houses, homeless shelters, and rehab centers. More letters with promises and more requests.” She sighed, drawing his attention to the swell and dip of her breasts. Moth meet flame.
“Anyway. When I was thirteen, a new letter arrived. My parents were visibly upset. When I entered the room, they put the note away. Insisting it was nothing. But I went and read it anyway, the first chance I could. It was from my mom. Saying she needed help. If they didn’t help her this time, it might be the last letter she’d ever send because she’d gotten into some trouble with a dealer. Used some of his stash and not repaid her debt. She was begging for help.”
“And you decided to help when they didn’t.”
“I’d worked that summer helping out at my grandparent’s store. My parents had made me save most of it. So, I gathered my money, snuck out of the house when they were asleep, and went to save my mother.”
“Even I want to strangle you. What were you thinking?”
“The same thing you were when you snuck into that kitchen instead of turning and running for help.”
Shit. “Did you find her?”
“I did. But the dealer found me, only he didn’t want my money. He had me. He said I could earn the money she owed in one night.” Shit, no wonder she thought she didn’t like sex. And it didn’t have shit to do with her idiot selfish ex.
Sanyet’s fingernails dug into the oak wood of his desk, carving the curve of his nails into the expensive wood.
“Were you hurt badly?” It was a fucked-up way to ask, but for once, his tactical skills failed him.
“No. He didn’t have time to do what he wanted. He and a few of his friends had stripped me and tied me up. They had given me drugs, so everything that happened next was a blur. While they trained me.” She slammed the words over the net, hitting him with the ball and the racket, too.
Her eyes gripped his, and he flinched from the contact. “Shit. that’s not what last night and you know it.” He volleyed his words back at her. Guilt making his return serve harder than he intended.
He needn’t have worried. She only shrugged. “While they’d been busy with me and my photoshoot, my mother had sobered up fast. She contacted my parents, and my father came. “
His brows creased his forehead. “You said it was the drug dealer and some friends. “
“And my father wasn’t alone either. He came with the three men you’re holding. They arrived, guns blazing. And …”
“Handled it.” He didn’t bother to hide the pride in his voice.
She nodded, her lip quivering again, but her spine was straight against the back of the chair. “He came with Uncle Lou, Mike and Brendan.” She shivered and pressed her hand against her stomach. “I’d just had a small bit of the drug, but it was enough to fog up everything that happened next. They administered their own street justice. And by the time I’d returned home, I was nearly catatonic and covered in blood.”
“It wasn’t the drug.”
She tilted her head, her curls draping her shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
“You floated outside of yourself. Everything out of focus, as if you were watching from a distant galaxy.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “How did you …”
He sighed. “I visited that galaxy for a while when I was about the same age.”