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“They moved?”
“No. They’re dead now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you kill them?”
Jesus, this kid had my eyebrows doing the Macarena. “They were murdered?”
“Yes.” He cut me another look. “Did you kill them?”
Slowly, feeling like I was out of the loop in more ways than one, I shook my head. “No. I didn’t. Why would you think that?”
“Because I know what the O’Donnellys do. You can try to hide everything, but there’s always something somewhere.”
Warily, I inquired, “Whatever you think you know, you probably don’t.”
“You’re not one of the biggest crime families in the tristate area then?” His smile didn’t hit his eyes. “Did Mom ever tell you I’m really good at detecting when people lie?”
“No. She never told me. How did you pick that up?”
“We lived with a circus for a while when she was there taking photos for research. There was a magician, he taught me how to hot read people.”
Hearing my teenager talking about ‘hot reading’ floored me more than if he told me Aela had taken him to a strip joint.
“So, I know when you’re lying is all I’m saying.”
“Have I lied to you so far?” I asked, curious about his skill level at hot reading. He was a shrewd little shit, so I wouldn’t put it past him. And he had a way with game theory that would make Conor a happy bunny if the two of them ever thought about pulling a gambling con.
Yeah, I knew he was fourteen and I was thinking about illegal shit, but hell, that was my world.
We monetized everything.
“You lie about how much you’re in pain. Usually every time we ask.” His gaze darted over my face. “But I think that’s a pride thing. That’s it so far.”
I hadn’t had much to lie about.
His final words were pivotal however.
So far.
I cleared my throat. “Well, you read I didn’t kill your great-grandparents then?”
“I did. That doesn’t mean someone else didn’t.”
“Had no reason to kill them,” I replied. “I didn’t know you existed until your mom came back into my life.”
His gaze was intent, and I sensed he wanted to know if that was the truth. He wanted to read whether or not that was a lie.
And I got it.
In his situation, I’d want to know if my father was a deadbeat too.
“Whydidshe come back into your life?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is it to do with your being injured?”
