Page 19 of Corpse Roads

After managing two tiny spoonfuls, I feel painfully full. My stomach aches, threatening to revolt. Abandoning the food, I turn and stare out of the window again.

The day has slipped by. On the horizon, a fiery ball of light and heat is being swallowed by darkness. The colours fascinate me, like paint strokes brought to life on a giant canvas.

“You were right,” I whisper to Laura’s memory in my head. “The sunset is so beautiful. I wish you were here too.”

There’s a gentle knock at the door before it cracks open. Enzo peeks inside, his raven hair floppy and slightly damp, like he’s freshly showered. It shows off his glowing, animal-like amber eyes.

Wearing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt, his rippling forearms and toned shoulders stretch the bounds of the fabric. There’s a buttery leather harness strapped across his muscular back. My heart stutters at the gun tucked inside.

“Hey, Harlow. Can I come in?”

I pull the covers closer to my chest. “Um, sure.”

His thick-soled army boots thud like thunderclaps as he stomps into the room. The ceiling almost brushes his head, he’s so tall. Like the branches of a powerful, ancient oak tree.

Anxiety slithers down my spine, but it’s tempered by the inexplicable sense of warmth that radiates from his gentle smile. It looks foreign on his face, softening features a little too hard and rough to be classically handsome.

“You’re looking better,” he comments softly.

“I guess.”

“Have you been up long?”

“I slept most of the day, before I saw Doctor David.” My eyes stray back to the window. “I wanted to go outside, but they wouldn’t let me out alone.”

“It’s for your own protection,” Enzo answers, a shoulder propped against the wall. “It’s not much of a view, anyway. I’m not a huge fan of London myself.”

“Do you live here?”

“On the outskirts, about an hour away.” His intense gaze doesn’t waver. “Our base of operations is more central. It’s not far from here. We take contracts across the country though.”

His phone buzzes, breaking our staring match. Enzo fishes it out of his pocket, and I watch his face darken as he notes the caller ID before answering.

I recognise the device—Mrs Michaels had one. She would play gospel songs on it as she cleaned blood and dead bodies in her husband’s lair of death.

“Yeah, she’s awake. Alright, understood.” Enzo flashes me an apologetic smile as he ends the call. “Sorry, that was my... co-worker. He’s coming to say hello.”

I shuffle backwards on the bed, wincing as my ribs protest. What if this person wants to hurt me? What if they’re all lying? What if I wake up back in my cage? These men could all work for Pastor Michaels.

“You can trust Hunter. We’ve known each other for our whole lives,” Enzo states calmly. “I promised you that everything would be okay, and I meant it.”

“Why?”

“Because we're good men, Harlow. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s our job to make things easier for you from here on out. We’re the best in the business.”

“Do you help people?”

His gaze softens again. “Yeah, little one. We help people.”

Creeping across the room like a stealthy jungle cat, Enzo outstretches a meaty palm. It’s twice the size of my hands. I should be running as far away from this menacing giant as possible.

But when I look into his eyes, there’s nothing but a soft concern that doesn’t match his burly exterior. He moves slowly, giving me time to adjust to his presence, before taking the empty seat next to me.

“What h-happens n-now?” I whisper.

“We will take you somewhere safe. It’s called protective custody. You’ll be comfortable and we’ll make sure you’re looked after.”

“You don’t h-have questions? About where I was?”

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