Jino's jaw tightens.
"Marco and Angelo have families. Real lives. Sunday dinners at Mama Bavga's estate aren't a requirement for appearances. They're real to them. They have Salvatore's approval. His blessing. Hispride." My voice turns bitter. "I got exile. I got isolation. I got reminded every single day that I don't belong."
I step closer to Jino.
"So yes. I handed them over. Because they were never mine to protect. If it's not something you can live with, you have every right to walk out tonight." Then I look at Emmaleen and give her the same option. "Same goes for you, Emmaleen."
She looks aghast. Points to herself. "Why would I walk out? I'm not walking out. I'm walking in!" She's smiling now, but she won't be in a couple more minutes.
I put up a finger. "Hold that thought." Then I look at Lorcan. He's pale now. I suck in a breath, then nod. "Yeah," I answer his unspoken question. "I did."
"Did what?" Jino asks.
"It's time, Lorcan," I tell my best friend.
"Time for what?" Jino demands.
I ignore Jino now, focused only on Lorcan. "I made a new blood oath with Luca."
"I told Luca about the girl," I say quietly.
Lorcan's face drains of all color.
"I confessed. Told him I took full responsibility." I meet Lorcan's eyes. "I gave him the exact coordinates. GPS. Everything he needs to find her."
Jino looks between us, confused. "What girl? What the fuck are you talking about?"
I don't break eye contact with Lorcan.
"The blood oath between us is cancelled, Ó Fearghail. You don't owe me anything anymore. Not silence. Not loyalty. Not protection." I touch the collar of my ruined shirt. "My destruction now rests in Luca LaRiccia's hands. He can go to the authorities whenever he wants."
Lorcan stares at me.
Thirteen years of shared history presses between us like a living thing—the frozen ground, the shovel, the weight of keeping each other's worst secret. The thing we never spoke about. Not once. Not even drunk. Not even when it would've been easier.
"Why?" Lorcan's voice comes out raw.
"Thank you," I tell him simply. "You gave me everything when you took Emmaleen," I continue. "You kept her safe when I couldn't. You punished her when she needed it. You gave her Position Secunda, and Declan Cross, and made her come while praying." I blow out a breath. "You cared. That's basically what I'm saying. And I want you to know I saw that. So I'm giving you this. Your freedom. No more blood oath. No more mutually assured destruction."
"Whatthe fuckare we talking about!" Jino is yelling now.
I look at Jino. At Emmaleen. At Lorcan standing frozen by the window.
"When Lorcan and I were seventeen, we had a regular arrangement with a girl from the town near St. Augustine's. She was twenty. She'd meet us at an abandoned church in the woods beyond campus."
I touch my temple again, steadying myself.
"We were experimenting. Trying to figure out what the fuck we were. What control meant. What power felt like." I pause. "She was into rough sex. Breath play. Being dominated by two men at once."
Emmaleen's face goes very still.
"One night in winter, she met us at the church. There was a prie-dieu in front of the altar. We bent her over the prayer desk."
I try not to remember the details, but I can't help myself. They pour into me. Explicit, and awful, and necessary.
"I stood in front of her with my cock in her mouth. It was down her throat. Deep."
I don't look at Emmaleen. Can't look at her.
