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“She won’t,” Lorenzo fires back.
“She deserves the truth, compagno. All of it,” Dante says.
“How else are you going to explain the fact that you’re not sleeping in her room tonight if you don’t?” Lorenzo asks.
“I’ll tell her I’m tired, or…”
Dante shakes his head. “You’ll break her fucking heart. If you’re going to ask to date our sister, Max, then you will tell her the fucking truth.”
I slump in my chair. I know they’re right, but what if it costs me everything? What if it costs me her?
A soft knock at the door snatches all our attention.
“Come in,” Dante shouts.
My entire world walks into the room, and the soft smile on her face makes me want to cut my tongue out of my mouth so we don’t have to have this conversation. “It’s getting kind of late, and Kat says Max should rest. We can talk about everything that happened tomorrow, right?”
Dante and Lorenzo voice their agreement.
“Good. You can stay in my room,” she says to me, her eyes shining with a happiness that I worried I’d never see again. Fuck, can’t I just have one more day when she still looks at me like that?
Lorenzo clears his throat. “Shall we give you the room?”
“No, stay.” They know everything anyway. At least if they’re here, I won’t back out when I see the look of horror on her face. I’ll have no choice but to tell her the whole ugly truth.
“Is something wrong?” Joey asks from where she stands beside me.
“Take a seat,” Dante replies.
“Why? What is it?” she asks, an angry edge creeping into her voice. “You don’t get to keep Max and me—”
“It’s not that, Joey,” I interrupt before she starts berating her brothers. “Sit down.”
“You’re freaking me out, Max.” Her voice wobbles.
I take hold of her hand, curling my fingers around hers and tugging her down into the chair next to me. “I have to tell you about something I did.”
“What—what did you do?”
“I killed someone, Joey.”
Falling back in her chair, she starts to laugh, and I gape at her. “Max. You asshole.”
“This is serious, Joey. Not just anyone. A girl.”
Her laugh cuts off abruptly. “A girl? What girl?”
“Her name was Fiona. She was a…friend of ours.”
“Fiona?” She frowns.
“It was twelve years ago, Joey,” Lorenzo adds.
“But why? What did she do?” Joey asks, her fingers still entwined in mine.
“She didn’t do anything,” I say quietly. “I don’t even remember what happened. I woke up and she was dead in bed beside me.”
Her face turns pale, and her nose wrinkles with horror and disgust while my heart threatens to burst through my fucking ribcage. “No.” She shakes her head emphatically. “Fiona, right? The girl with those stupid pigtails?”
