Page 26

There it is…

Heat floods my face. Last night. When I was in his bed, his hands on my skin, his mouth everywhere. When I felt safe and wanted and alive for the first time in years.

“Last night was... I was upset about Liam. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“So it was just shock? Convenience? The closest warm body?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

I close my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t know what it was, okay? I don’t know what any of this is. I killed someone two days ago. My entire life has turned into some twisted nightmare. I don’t know what I’m doing or feeling or why I’m doing any of it.”

He’s quiet for so long I think he’s not going to respond. When he does, his voice is gentler.

“I get that. More than you know.” He takes a deep breath. “But going to Flint... that was dangerous. For all of us.”

“What’s the deal with you two anyway? And don’t give me that ‘it’s complicated’ bullshit again. You clearly have some dark secret or something. There’s hate there, but also… over protectiveness.” Maybe he’ll tell me more than Flint did.

The Jeep slows as we approach a curve in the road. Damiano takes it carefully before answering.

“We were together for a long time. It ended badly. Now we can’t decide if we hate each other or not.”

“That’s slightly more informative than ‘it’s complicated,’ but not by much.”

He sighs. “What do you want me to say? That we were in love? That we destroyed each other? That the island’s too small for both of us but neither of us will leave?”

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what I want you to say. The truth.”

“Fine.” His words harden. “We met when we were nineteen. Both island kids from the wrong side of the tracks. He was delivering fish to the big houses; I was gardening. Started talking. Started fucking. Kept at it for two years. ”

The bluntness surprises me. “What happened?”

“What always happens. Life. Mistakes. Betrayal.” His eyes stay fixed on the road. “I left for Italy for a few months after… after some stressful times. Needed space to sort some things out. When I came back, he was with someone else.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He takes another curve, the headlights briefly illuminating a deer watching from the treeline. “When I confronted him about it, he said it didn’t mean anything. That he thought I wasn’t coming back. That he was just passing time.”

“And you didn’t believe him?”

“I believed him. That’s the problem. It was so easy for him to replace me that it really didn’t mean anything to him.”

“Is that why you hate each other now?”

“We don’t hate each other. Not really.” His mouth quirks up at one corner. “We just can’t figure out how to be around each other without falling back into old patterns.”

“Like sleeping together even though you’re broken up?”

He glances at me, surprise evident in his expression. “How did you?—”

“I have eyes, Damiano. The way you look at each other. The tension. Plus Flint pretty much confirmed it.”

“Did he.” His voice is flat.

“Does it bother you? That I know?”

“No.” A pause. “Does it bother you?”

The question catches me off guard. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because of last night.”

Right. Last night. When I was in his bed, while less than twenty-four hours later I’d be letting Flint push me against a desk, his fingers inside me, my body responding just as eagerly.

“No,” I say, too quickly. “It doesn’t bother me at all.”

I’m such a liar.

The Jeep falls silent again as we approach the estate. The main house stands dark against the night sky, only a few lights burning in the downstairs windows. Mrs. Fletcher must still be up, waiting for me.

We stop. I should get out immediately, but something keeps me in my seat.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “For coming to find me. Even though it pissed me off.”

“You’re welcome.” He stares straight ahead for a moment, then turns to face me. “You were with him, weren’t you? With Flint.”

It’s not an accusation, merely a simple statement of fact. My breath catches, but I don’t deny it.

“I know Flint.” His voice is quiet, almost resigned. “And I know that look. The one you’re wearing now.”

Heat rushes to my face. “I didn’t plan for anything to happen. ”

“It rarely is planned with him.” His expression softens slightly. “I’m not judging you, Briar. It’s complicated between all of us now.”

“Because of Liam.”

“Not just because of Liam.”

His tone makes me look at him more closely. There’s no jealousy in his eyes—or at least, not just jealousy. There’s understanding, too.

“What is this?” I ask, barely audible even to myself. “Between all of us?”

Damiano stares at me for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes.

“I know how it is with him,” he says quietly. “I’ve been there.”

Heat crawls up my neck as his words hit too close to home. He sees it in my face, and his laugh is low and bitter.

“Flint and I have been destroying each other for years.” His fingers find my jaw, tilting my face up to his. The touch is deliberate, claiming. “Now you’re caught in the middle.”

“I’m not caught anywhere,” I say, but even I don’t believe it.

“No?” He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, and I think of Flint. “Whatever this is between us. It’s not going to end well. For any of us.”

I should pull away, but I don’t.

“You don’t know what I want,” I whisper.

“Maybe not,” he says, dropping his hand, “but I know what I see. ”

He shifts back to his side of the Jeep. I’m starting to hate the way he stares at me when I can tell he’s reading me. It’s like he can see every page of my sordid diary meant for my eyes only.

“But one thing is for sure. Viktor’s not going to stop looking for his brother. Both Flint and I know this. The more attention you draw to yourself, the harder this gets for all of us.”

He’s right, but admitting it feels like giving up some essential part of myself—the last bit of control I have in this spiraling situation.

“I’ll be more careful,” I say, reaching for the door handle.

“That’s all I’m asking.” He softens slightly. “The three of us are in this together now, whether we like it or not.”

I step out of the vehicle, needing distance from the intensity building between us. “Goodnight, Damiano.”

“Goodnight, Briar.”

I slip inside through the back door, the warmth of the empty house immediately enveloping me. The kitchen is dark except for a single light left on over the stove. I lean against the counter, finally letting out the breath I feel like I’ve been holding all night.

My hands are still shaking. From the cold?

From what happened with Flint at The Vault?

Or from whatever just happened with Damiano in the Jeep?

I’m not sure I can separate it all anymore.

Every action, every touch, every word between us feels loaded with something I’m not equipped to handle.

Especially not now, with Liam’s body still fresh in the ground and Viktor hunting for answers.

God, what am I doing? Two men in fewer than twenty-four hours. Me, who hasn’t been with anyone since getting super sick years ago. It’s like I’ve lost all sense, all caution. Like killing someone flipped some switch inside me that’s now seeking out more danger, more intensity.

I need to get my head straight. Need to wash off this night.

In my room, I strip off my clothes and step into a hot shower, letting the water sluice away the night’s events. But it can’t rid me of the memories—Flint’s hands on me, Damiano’s knowing eyes, the growing web between the three of us.