Page 65 of Hollow

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 ofviolence. 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…Ikilled… 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.

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