Page 58 of Hollow

“You’re not. I’m driving you back.”

I should argue, should tell him to go away, and that I can handle myself. But the thought of drivingback alone, of facing those winding coastal roads with my vision blurring at the edges, isn’t appealing.

“Fine.” I hand him the keys.

He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in without further argument. The small victory seems to soften his anger somewhat.

The Jeep feels like a safe bubble once he’s inside, too, and the dome light briefly illuminates his profile before he starts the engine and darkness returns. The heater kicks on, blowing cool air that will take forever to become warm.

Neither of us speaks as he navigates the narrow town streets. The silence stretches, filled with too many unspoken questions.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “So you were watching the house? Waiting for me to leave? That’s not creepy at all.”

He tightens his hands on the steering wheel. “I was checking in. After what happened with Viktor’s men searching the grounds, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And when you saw I wasn’t there?”

“I asked Mrs. Fletcher where you went. She said you went for a drive. At night. Alone.”

“So you just decided to come find me?”

“Yes.”

One word again. Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I turn to look out the window, watching fog-draped trees slide by. “You can’t protect me from everything, Damiano.”

“I can try.” The simple admission hangs between us. After a moment, he adds, “Especially when you insist on taking stupid risks. I told you to stay home.”

And we’re back to anger. Great. I’m now flanked by two men who think they can tell me what to do.

“You don’t get to decide what risks I take,” I snap. “You’re not my keeper. You’re not my boyfriend. You’re not anything to me.”

The words come out harsher than I intended. His face remains expressionless, but a muscle in his jaw jumps.

“Last night would suggest otherwise.”

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’tknow 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.

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