Page 28

Flint

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Someone’s applause echoes through the clearing, slow and mocking and close enough to make my heart lurch. I bolt upright, fear cutting through the haze of spent adrenaline.

“Well done,” the person says. “Encore?”

Damiano steps into view, his silhouette emerging from the dark maze like a grim specter. His expression is one of sardonic amusement, but it’s underpinned by hurt, raw and seething.

“What the fuck, man?” I spit the words, scrambling to pull my jeans up, the soil cold against my skin.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for good performance art.”

Briar sits up beside me, her eyes wide as she hastily buttons her sweater. “Damiano, I?—”

He cuts her off with a smile that’s more like a sneer. “Did I interrupt couples’ night at the cemetery?”

I stand, anger surging. “No one asked you to hang around and watch.”

“No? Looked like your own private revenge porn.” He flicks his gaze to Briar, a wounded animal before turning predatory. “You know, like when you walked in on us the other night. Tit for tat, right Flint?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. He believes this was my way of getting back at him, making him pay. And why wouldn’t he? It’s exactly the kind of toxic game we’ve played before.

“Jesus, Damiano.” I step toward him, unsteady on my feet. “You think I’d do that?”

He barks a laugh. “You’ve done it before.”

Briar tenses next to me, and guilt cuts through my anger. I did this. I let it go too far.

Damiano stares at her, his expression twisting. “I thought you were different, Briar, but maybe you’re the most fucked out of all of us.”

“I’m not,” she says, though lacks any fight.

“Then what is this? Just another way to feel dangerous, slumming it with two lowlifes?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then enlighten me. Please.”

I step between them, my eyes locked with Damiano’s. “That’s enough.”

He shakes his head, backing away slightly. “I knew you were a mess, Flint. It’s your defining characteristic. But dragging her into this—Jesus. Do you even know who you are?”

“Stop it,” Briar snaps. “Both of you.”

Damiano’s eyes flash. “Tell me, Briar—was that your way of erasing the memory of fucking me? Or are you just in the habit of screwing whichever of us is closest?”

Her face goes white, and I see the moment she decides she’s not going to be the fragile princess of Damiano’s imagination.

Her voice is steady, but there’s tremor beneath it.

“Fuck off. Last I checked, you and I aren’t exactly courting .

” She takes a calming breath. “But… I’d never purposefully try to hurt you. ”

His expression softens, just for a moment. “But you did.”

Something cracks in me, seeing him look that way. “She’s not yours, Damiano. She’s not fucking mine either. Why do you always act like you own the people you fuck?”

Damiano takes a step toward me, his shoulders tense, fists clenching and unclenching. “I act like I own the people I fuck? You act like you own the whole world. Like it’s a game, and you’re the only player.”

“We are not doing this,” Briar interjects.

“Right,” I say. “That’s me. I’m the problem. The only problem.”

“You’re the worst one.”

“This is not the time,” Briar says .

“She’s right. Go home, Damiano. Go home and jack off to the memory of me.”

The anger that’s been building in Damiano turns nuclear. Seeing the shift in his eyes, I brace myself just before his fist connects, hitting with enough force to split my lip and send me sprawling onto the grave.

Briar’s scream gets lost as I scramble to my feet, wiping blood from my mouth. “That all you’ve got?” I taunt, the taste of copper sharp in my teeth.

Damiano lunges again, but this time I’m ready. We crash into each other, a tangle of limbs and rage, fists flying, bodies slamming into the damp earth. I land a blow to his ribs, feeling the satisfying crack before he shoves me off and we both stagger to our feet, panting, circling.

“You want to do this here?” I snarl. “Fine. But you’re going to lose.”

His eyes are wild, dark with anger. “We’ll see.” He charges at me with a fury that catches me off guard.

I go down hard, the wind knocked out of me as he pins me to the ground, his knee digging into my chest. My vision swims, the suffocating weight of his body pressing me into the loose soil. I swing blindly, landing a hit that sends him reeling. “Get off me,” I gasp, struggling to breathe.

He doesn’t relent. “You used to be better than this, Flint,” he growls, choking on the words. “Now you’re just a piece of?—”

“Stop it!” Briar’s shout cuts through the haze of violence. She throws herself between us, shoving Damiano back, her hands outstretched like a desperate barrier. “This is insane!”

We both freeze, panting, the reality of her standing over the grave hitting like a slap.

“Listen to me,” she says, staring at the grave beneath her feet. “If you should be mad at anyone, it should be me.”

We both just look at her, breathing hard, the night air cold on our skin.

“I’m the one who killed him.” Her eyes fixate on the ground beneath us, like she can see Liam’s decomposed body staring back.

“I’m the one who fucked you both, and I don’t even know why or who I am anymore.

This isn’t me—this isn’t...” I see it in her eyes, the dark pit she’s teetering on the edge of.

She looks so damned fragile it twists a knot in my chest.

There’s a silence that stretches, brittle and fragile.

Damiano is the first to break. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more, and something in him softens.

The anger dissolves, leaving only a dull, resigned pain.

“We did this, and if you think you’re to blame for whatever the hell is happening with Flint and me, you’re wrong. We’ve been broken for a long time.”

“You fucking broke us!” I shout, sounding unhinged to my own ears. “You, Damiano, you!”

Damiano flinches at the accusation, and I can’t tell if I’ve hurt him or if he knew it was coming. For a second, I think he’s going to lunge at me again, but he’s staring at Briar with that wounded-animal look.

He turns to me. “You’re right. I did break us.” He refocuses his attention on Briar. “What you don’t know is that Flint and I have been down this road before. We killed… I killed… Viktor’s other brother.”

“That asshole had it coming,” I cut in. “You had no choice.”

He raises his hand to silence me. “I killed the man, and Flint helped me cover it up. Same shit, new corpse.”

Briar darts her gaze between us, clearly desperate for answers. We look at her, two damaged animals waiting to see if the other will attack first. “And you just now bring this up?”

“We swore to never discuss this again,” Flint says. “It was supposed to fucking die. Just like our damn relationship.”

“I was protecting myself,” Damiano presses on. “An argument. We were both drunk and high and he wouldn’t leave the greenhouse. He wanted more, and I was still with Flint. Anyway… I hit Erik too hard—he went down, didn’t get back up.”

“And Viktor?” Briar almost whispers it, like she’s afraid of what the answer will be.

“He never found out. He tried. Trust me, he tried. And deep down I think he knows I had something to do with it. But… Flint and I covered it up.”

I see it in her eyes, the shock and the sick understanding. She steps back, her mouth opening and closing, and I know she’s picturing Erik’s grave just like she pictured Liam’s—what we did to cover it up, how we pulled ourselves down into hell with it.

Damiano’s gaze meets mine, years of fucked-up history passing between us, weighing every word. “And when it got really tough. I left. I went to Italy without a word. I fucking bailed.”

Briar glances at me, realization flashing across her eyes.

“So here we are,” I say. “It’s only a matter of time until Damiano leaves us with this mess to clean up by ourselves again.”

Damiano nudges the fresh earth with his boot, pushing more dirt over the depression our bodies left on the grave. “Not this time.”

I feel Briar’s gaze on us, and I turn to her, wanting to say something, anything that makes this nightmare end, but the words won’t come. I’ve got nothing.

She wraps her arms around herself and draws a deep breath before speaking. “So Viktor…”

“Already lost one brother with unanswered questions,” I finish.

“Which is why you both know exactly how he’d react about Liam.” She’s clearly putting the puzzle pieces together.

“We need to get out of this alive,” she says. There’s a steely determination hiding the fragility I know is there .

The wind shifts, bringing with it the pungent odor of disturbed earth. It’s a sharp reminder that we’re standing on a fucking grave. I glance at Damiano, then at Briar, and something clicks, a dark understanding of where we all stand. She’s right. We won’t survive this unless we face it together.

Briar turns and takes a step away, like she’s leaving us both behind in that dirt.

“Where are you going?” I ask. She stops, looking back over her shoulder with an expression that’s hard but not unkind.

“To clean up. And then to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next.

” She starts to walk away again. “But we all need a cooling-off period. The three of us are like a bomb about to go off.” She turns and glares at each of us in turn before she steps behind a hedge. “Walk away. Calm down. Break.”

I should take her advice and do just that, but then Damiano and I wouldn’t be as fucked up as we are. So instead I say, “So we just beat the shit out of each other. Want to fuck now?”

“Go to hell.” Damiano spits on the ground between us.

“Yes, I’ve been there with you by my side.”

Damiano doesn’t say anything else before he disappears into the fog.