Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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.”