Page 21 of Hollow (Heathens Hollow #3)

Flint

My shift at The Vault was pure hell. Viktor came back three times, each visit more intense than the previous. By midnight, he’d doubled the reward to twenty thousand. By closing, half the island was out looking for his brother.

A flashlight beam cuts through the trees to my right.

Another fucking search party. It’s the fourth one I’ve seen since leaving my car at the bottom of the driveway. They’re getting desperate, combing the same areas twice .

Ducking behind a hedge until they pass, I then continue toward the greenhouse. Its amber glow stands out in the fog like a beacon. On any normal night, it wouldn’t matter, since Damiano’s always up late working. But tonight, with search parties everywhere, that light might as well be a spotlight.

I need to warn him about Viktor’s latest move. That psycho’s calling in some mainland connection guys with military training and tracking dogs. They’ll be here by morning. We’re rapidly running out of options.

As I approach the greenhouse, I slow down. Something’s off. The usual night sounds are gone. Damiano’s radio, the hum of the heaters… all silent. Instead, there’s a different rhythm. Movement. Breathing.

I ease around to the far side where the foliage inside is thickest so I’m less likely to be spotted. Through a gap in the climbing plants, I can see inside.

Holy shit.

Damiano’s on that narrow cot with Briar Waters. Both of them naked, her pale skin almost glowing against his darker tone. She’s on top, moving slowly, her back arched as he grips her hips. Her head is thrown back, chocolate hair spilling down to the curve of her ass.

I should leave. Should turn around and come back later. But I don’t move.

It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen Damiano with someone before.

We’ve had our share of encounters with others around.

But this is different. The way he’s touching her so carefully, like she might break.

The way she’s responding so desperate, like she’s been cold her whole life, and he’s the first warmth she’s found.

I watch her hands trace the tattoos on his chest, following the patterns I know by heart. His breathing gets faster, shallower. She leans down to kiss him, her hair creating a curtain around their faces.

When she sits back up, Damiano’s eyes shift and lock directly with mine through the glass.

No surprise. No guilt. Just that dark, knowing look that’s always been able to cut right through me. He holds my gaze while he continues to guide her movements, his expression challenging yet inviting all at once.

Ten seconds pass. Maybe fifteen. Neither of us looks away.

Then Briar notices. Her rhythm falters as she follows his line of sight and sees me standing there in the darkness. Instead of the shock or embarrassment I expect, her expression shifts to something more curious. She doesn’t stop moving.

Damiano whispers in her ear, and she nods, her eyes still on me, and she turns slightly to give me a better view of them both.

Her naked body is all pale curves in the amber greenhouse light with delicate collarbones, small tits with pink nipples hardened from arousal, the gentle slope of her stomach…

De spite her illness, there’s an unexpected strength to her frame.

There’s nothing fragile about the way she controls her movements.

The contrast of her fair skin against Damiano’s darker complexion and intricate tattoos—almost like the good meets evil—sends a surge of heat through me. I clench my jaw, trying to keep my expression neutral.

She reaches back to brace against his thigh as she arches her back more, making a deliberate show of it.

The curve of her spine, the way her dark hair cascades down her back almost to her waist makes it impossible not to stare.

My mouth goes dry. I’ve seen plenty at The Vault, but this is different.

This is Damiano with Waters’ daughter, two people who shouldn’t make sense together but somehow do.

Damiano’s eyes stay locked with mine as he guides her hips, slowing their pace like they’ve got all night now.

He slides one of his hands up her side to cup her breast, circling his thumb around the nipple in a way I recognize from experience.

My body responds right away, a rush of blood southward that leaves me light-headed for a second.

It’s a performance meant for me—an invitation or a challenge, and with Damiano, those are usually the same thing. I should walk away, but my feet stay planted. Watching them through the fogged glass feels like something from our past, when boundaries between us were merely suggestions .

The corner of Damiano’s mouth lifts in that half-smile I know too well.

He says something else to Briar, and she reaches up, gathering her hair and pulling it to one side, exposing the curve of her neck where his mouth now travels.

Her eyes flutter closed, but she turns her face toward the window. Toward me.

This is seriously fucked up.

We’ve got a body in the ground not fifty yards from here, search parties combing the island, and they’re putting on a fuck show like we’re at The Vault on a Saturday night.

Screw it.

I move to the door and let myself in. The air inside hits me immediately humid, warm, smelling like sex and plants.

“You’re early,” Damiano says. They’ve stopped, but they haven’t separated or covered up. Briar’s still straddling him, her back to me, her skin flushed with color.

“Shift ended.” I clear my throat. “Figured the news couldn’t wait.”

Briar quickly pulls a blanket around herself, color flooding her cheeks as the moment breaks. Damiano seems less concerned, but he reaches for his jeans on the floor beside the cot.

“Must be important,” Damiano says.

“Viktor’s called in reinforcements. They’ll be here by morning.” I move deeper into the greenhouse, keeping my eyes on my backpack as I set it on the workbench. “Also, you should cover these windows better. Half the search parties on the island could see what you’re doing in here.”

Damiano’s lips twitch, almost a smile as he stands. “Yet you’re the only one who showed up.”

“That won’t last.” I turn my back, giving them a moment to get dressed. “We need to talk.”

I busy myself checking the window for any movement outside while they finish getting themselves together.

No awkward apologies or embarrassed fumbling.

Just the rustle of clothing and quiet murmurs.

When I turn back, Briar’s wearing one of Damiano’s flannels and a pair of leggings.

Damiano’s pulled on jeans but hasn’t bothered with a shirt.

“What kind of reinforcements?” he asks, pouring water from a jug into the ancient kettle he keeps for tea.

“The kind with military training and tracking dogs.” I drop onto the only chair in the place. “Viktor’s not fucking around. Twenty thousand dollar reward now, and he’s calling in people who make a living finding things that don’t want to be found.”

Briar sits on the edge of the cot, tucking her legs underneath her. “Dogs can’t track through the maze. Too many competing scents from the plants.”

Damiano and I both look at her.

“What?” she says. “My dad hunts. I know how tracking dogs work. ”

“She’s not wrong,” Damiano says, lighting the small camping stove. “The maze has too many overwhelming plant oils. Confusion scents. Poisonous plants for dogs that they’ll stay away from.”

“Great, so the center’s safe,” I say, “but they’ll still tear apart everything else looking for him. Including this greenhouse.”

“They won’t find anything here,” Damiano says like it’s a fact.

“You’re sure?” I scan the space, looking for anything out of place. “Nothing that might connect either of you to Liam?”

Briar looks to Damiano, a flicker of worry crossing her face.

“It’s handled,” he says firmly. “Burned the clothes, cleaned the area. Even got rid of the gardening tools we used.”

The kettle whistles, and he makes tea in silence, handing us each a mug before leaning against the workbench. The three of us form a triangle in the small space, steam rising from our cups, nobody speaking for a long moment.

“So what now?” Briar asks.

“Now you stick to the story,” Damiano directs. “Party got out of hand. You went to bed early. Never met Liam Bastian.”

“And if these ex-military guys want to search my house? ”

“Let them,” Damiano says. “Nothing to find there.”

“What about you two?” Her eyes move between us. “They’re going to question everyone who was at the party.”

“We were all at the party,” I say, “but after that, I had an early shift at The Vault and plenty of people saw me there today, hungover but working.”

“And I came back to the greenhouse after helping clean up,” Damiano adds. “Normal routine.”

Briar nods, absorbing this. “So we just... wait it out?”

“For now.” I take a drink of the tea and grimace at the bitter herbal taste. “But Viktor’s not going to stop. Even when the trail goes cold.”

“He will eventually,” Damiano says. “Even Viktor can’t search forever. We know this.”

I’m not so sure about that. I’ve seen the look in Viktor’s eyes when he talked about his brother. That wasn’t just concern. That was obsession. He’s already lost one brother. He’s not going to let this island claim another.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on the search parties,” I say. “Make sure they don’t get too close to the center of the maze. I’ll stay here tonight.”

“I can help,” Briar offers.

“No,” Damiano and I say at the same time.

“You need to be in the main house,” I continue. “Present. Visible. Normal rich girl recovering from throwing a wild party. ”

“I’m not just going to sit there while you two risk?—”

“Yes, you are,” Damiano says. “The more you involve yourself now, the more suspicious it looks.”

She doesn’t like it but doesn’t argue further.

“Fine,” she says eventually, setting down her tea. “You’re right. I should be at the house if anyone comes looking.” She stands reluctantly. “But I want updates. I need to know what’s happening.”

Damiano reaches for his shirt. “I’ll walk you.”

“No.” I stand up. “I’ll take her. You stay here and keep an eye out for any search parties getting too close to the maze. I don’t want you to accidentally meet up with Viktor alone.”

Something passes between Damiano and me—an old tension, a new understanding. He nods once.

Briar looks between us, clearly sensing something’s up but not quite understanding it. “I can find my way back alone.”

“With search parties all over the grounds? Not a chance.” I grab a flashlight from Damiano’s workbench. “Let’s go.”

Outside, the fog has gotten thicker, coating everything in a layer of damp. We walk in silence for the first minute, Briar hugging herself against the cold despite the flannel shirt.

“About what you saw...” she finally says, her voice uncertain. “Damiano and I... that wasn’t planned.”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” I keep my eyes on the path ahead.

“I just don’t want things to be weird between us.”

I almost laugh. Like burying a body together wasn’t weird enough.

“It’s not weird,” I lie. “You’re both adults.”

“Right.” She steps over a fallen branch, still not looking at me. “I just thought, given your history with him...”

“Ancient history.” Another lie.

“It felt like more than that, the way you two looked at each other.”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “We’ve known each other a long time. That’s all.”

“And I’m complicating things.”

“Everything about this situation is complicated. You and Damiano is the least of my concerns right now.”

She nods slowly, clearly not believing me. Smart girl.

We’ve reached the back patio of the main house. All the windows are still dark.

“You should go in through the kitchen,” I tell her. “In case anyone’s watching the front.”

“Right.” She hesitates, then adds, “Be careful out there tonight.”

“Always am.”

“Lock the doors behind you,” I remind her. “And don’t answer if anyone comes knocking before morning.”

Once she’s safely inside, I stand in the shadows for a few minutes, watching for any movement around the property. Nothing but fog and darkness. The search parties must have moved to a different area.

I head back toward the greenhouse, my mind racing with everything at once. The search. Viktor. The body in the maze. Damiano and Briar together on that narrow cot…

Yeah, complicated doesn’t even fucking begin to cover it.