Page 11
Story: Hollow (Heathens Hollow #3)
Flint paces back and forth, then stops abruptly. “We need to call someone. Your father or?—”
“Her father?” Damiano snaps. “Maxwell Waters with all his money and mainland connections? You think that’ll help here?”
“Jesus.” Flint crouches next to Liam’s body, checking for a pulse he won’t find. His hands come away slick with blood. “He’s definitely dead.” He wipes his hands on his jeans, looking up at Damiano. “Viktor will tear this island apart looking for whoever did this. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Damiano says, nearly a whisper. “We’re all dead if he finds out.”
“Finds out what?” My voice cracks. “That his brother tried to rape someone and got killed in self-defense? That’s not a crime!”
Flint gives a bitter laugh. “You don’t know Viktor Bastian. He doesn’t care about right or wrong. His brother is dead. Someone’s going to pay.” He looks at Damiano. “And he already hates both of us.”
“Why?” I ask, my teeth chattering from shock.
“History,” Damiano says tersely. “Bad history.”
Flint turns back to Damiano. “We should get her out of here. Take her to the mainland. Tonight. Her father can hide her somewhere until this blows over.”
“It won’t blow over,” Damiano says, still looking at me. “Viktor will find her. And when he does...”
“What then?” Flint gestures wildly at the body. “We can’t just leave him here!”
Damiano rubs his face, leaving a smear of blood across his cheek. “No, we can’t.”
He looks around the maze, then back at Liam’s body, as if calculating something. I can practically see his mind working, formulating a plan even as dread settles in his eyes.
“We need to clean this up. All of it.”
“What?” Now my voice works properly. “No, I need to... we should tell someone...”
“Tell who exactly?” Flint’s laugh is harsh. “No one on this island will take your side over a Bastian. Viktor rules people on this island by fear. Everyone’s either in his pocket or scared of him.”
“But it was self-defense! Look at me!” I gesture to my torn dress, the blood, his and mine, the bruises already forming on my throat. “He was wearing a Hunt mask. He chased me!”
“With the costume party theme back at the house? They’ll say you were both playing along,” Flint says bitterly. “Anyone can be convinced to see things Viktor’s way on this island.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Damiano says quietly. “Not on this island. Not with who his brother is. ”
“My dad can fix this,” I say, grasping at anything. “He has money, lawyers...”
“This isn’t Seattle,” Flint says. “You can’t throw money at island justice. Viktor doesn’t follow normal rules.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Damiano and Flint exchange a look that makes my stomach drop.
“It means Viktor handles things his own way,” Damiano says carefully. “People who cross the Bastians don’t end up in jail. They end up missing. Or worse.”
Damiano is looking around, like he’s formulating a plan. “Flint’s right. The people here... his brother and their connections... Briar, we need to hide this. Your dad can’t help us with this.”
“Us?” I squeak. “You’re both involved now, too?”
“Fuck me,” Flint says like that’s his way of saying yes. “Moment we stepped into this clearing, we were involved. Accessories after the fact, if anyone asks.”
“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I whisper.
“Doesn’t matter now,” Damiano says. “We’re in this. All three of us.”
I stare at them both, the reality of my situation sinking in.
They’re right. Even if I could prove what happened, even if people believed me, there would be a trial.
Publicity. My father’s name dragged through the mud.
My medical history exposed, picked apart by lawyers trying to paint me as unstable, dangerous .
And that’s assuming we made it to trial. The look Damiano and Flint share suggests Viktor’s revenge would come long before any legal proceedings.
“What do we do?” I whisper.
Damiano and Flint exchange another long look, some silent communication passing between them.
“We could burn the body,” Flint suggests quietly. “Take it deep into the forest...”
“Too risky,” Damiano counters. “Fire would draw attention. And moving him off the property leaves a trail.”
Flint gestures helplessly at the body. “We can’t leave him here.”
“No.” Damiano’s gaze moves around the clearing, calculating. “But we don’t have to move him far.”
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. My mind is spiraling into a dark pit of despair. Jesus Christ, this can’t be happening.
“We bury him,” Damiano says finally. “Here in the maze. No one will find him.”
“How can you be so sure?” My question sounds strange in my own ears, too calm now.
“Because I know every inch of this place,” he says. “And I know which plants grow fastest over disturbed soil. Which ones hide the smell of decomposition.”
“If anyone asks,” Flint adds, “Liam Bastian got wasted and wandered off from the party. Who the hell knows where. ”
“Why would you help me?” I ask, looking between them. “You don’t even know me.”
Flint’s smile is grim. “Let’s just say Liam Bastian won’t be missed. Not by us, anyway.” He scans my body. “And if he did to you what I think he did…”
“He tried... Only tried,” I correct.
Damiano stands, offering me his hand. “We need to get you cleaned up before anyone sees you like this. Then we’ll come back for him.”
I take his hand, but I don’t have the strength to stand quite yet. “I killed someone.”
“No,” Damiano says, his eyes meeting mine, steady and certain. “You survived someone who was trying to take what wasn’t his, and who would’ve killed you to keep it quiet. Big difference.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak again. I killed someone. No matter how they try to spin it, that’s the truth.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 5
- Page 6
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- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11 (Reading here)
- Page 12
- Page 13
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- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
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- Page 28
- Page 29
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- Page 39
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