His jaw tightens. "Daire was fourteen, but she started it."
Daithí takes a step forward. "Be very fucking careful with your next words."
Tony closes his eyes. "I know how that sounds."
"It sounds like you're trying to excuse yourself."
"I'm not. I should have stopped it."
"Yeah," Daithí says coldly. "You should have."
"When did Frederick enter the picture?" I ask.
Tony's eyes open. A flicker of fear crosses his face. Fear of Frederick, well, that’s interesting. "A few years later."
"How?"
Tony laughs bitterly. "Because Daire wanted more." Neither of us says a word. Tony swallows. "You think you know who Daire Delaney is?" His voice is rough. "You don't."
A chill crawls down my spine. Tony sounds genuinely afraid of her.
Daithí hears it too, and his eyes narrow. "What does that mean?"
Tony laughs once. Its a hollow and broken sound. "It means you're all still treating her like she's some spoiled rich girl who got in over her head." Tony looks between us. "You think Frederick corrupted her."
The corner of my mouth twitches, because that's exactly what most people would assume.
Tony shakes his head. "You've got it backwards. Daire was manipulating people long before Frederick Hightower came along."
My jaw tightens. "Explain."
"When she was sixteen, there were three of us."
Daithí goes still and I don't move. "Three?" He snarls.
Tony nods. "Me." His voice is barely above a whisper. "A city councilman from South Boston, Hargreaves."
I recognize the name immediately when he says it. He’s married and has two children.
"And the third?" Daithí snaps.
Tony laughs again, this time there's genuine disbelief in it. "Gregory Hightower."
I stare at him. "What?"
Tony rubs a hand over his face. "Not Frederick." He shakes his head. "His father."
Now that's very fucking interesting, because Gregory Hightower is old enough to know better, powerful enough to avoid consequences, and stupid enough to believe he wouldn't get caught.
"How?" Daithí asks.
"Photos."
"Photos?" I repeat.
Tony nods. "Daire would flirt, she’d push boundaries, and get close." He swallows. "Then she'd make sure there was evidence." Nobody says a word and Tony's gaze drops to the floor. "She’d have messages, pictures, of us meeting her that couldn't be explained to wives. Gregory paid," Tony says quietly. "The councilman paid." His eyes close briefly. "And I..." His voice breaks. "I didn't."
The room falls silent. Because we all know what that means. Tony didn't pay. He slept with her instead, and somewhere along the line he convinced himself that made him different. It didn't.
