Page 34 of Corpse Roads

Managing to pull myself up, I realise what a mistake I’ve made. This is the spare room, and there’s a shaking wreck in the bed I just tried to climb into. A fucking girl.

Her hazelnut-coloured hair stands up in all directions, like she was deep asleep before I stumbled in here. Beneath a sheet of tears, her sweetheart-shaped face is scrunched up, almost in pain.

Enzo approaches like he’s stalking a deer, ready to pounce at any second. He sinks onto the bed, gently wrapping his arms around the sobbing woman.

“It’s me, Harlow. Open those pretty eyes.”

“Please... d-don’t hurt me... I’m sorry for r-running,” she stutters through her tears. “I’ll pray, I will. Don’t hurt me…”

“Come on, little one. Take a nice deep breath.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I’ll pray harder…”

“Enzo? A little context would be nice,” I complain, managing to find my feet. “Who the hell is this chick?”

“Shut up, Leigh. You’re a fucking idiot.”

The girl curls into Enzo’s side without opening her eyes. Holding her in an intimate embrace, Enzo murmurs quiet instructions to ease her panic attack.

She looks to be in seriously rough shape. I’ve seen some shit in prison, and this girl’s been beaten to within an inch of her damn life. She’s covered in bruises, including two stripes down her face.

I’ve seen enough guys getting their skulls broken against bars to know what causes those marks.

Eventually, she falls silent. Tears cease to streak down her cheeks. Lucky jumps up on the bed, settling by her side. The girl’s fingers bury in her fur before she passes out again.

“She’s exhausted,” Enzo comments. “I found her sleeping on the floor a few hours ago. She barely stirred as I put her back to bed.”

Carefully extricating himself, he settles her tiny body back on the bed and pulls the sheets up to her chin. I frown at the alien creature in my friend’s body.

Enzo is many things. Brutal. Violent. Unshakeable. Tender is not a word I’d use to describe this tough son of a bitch. I have no idea who’s standing in front of me, but it isn’t the man I know.

“As sweet as this is, an explanation would be awesome. Who is she, and why was she sleeping on the floor?”

“Call me sweet again and I will crush your skull with my fucking pinkie finger,” Enzo warns, grabbing me in a headlock. “Get out.”

I’m escorted downstairs, his arm wrapped around my throat like a steel noose. The kitchen lights are now on, sealing my death sentence. I never should’ve come home.

Hunter’s fixing a cup of tea, dressed in a pair of sweats. He spares me an exasperated look as Enzo finally releases me.

“What time do you call this, Leigh?” Hunter’s eyes narrow on me. “What happened to you?”

I briefly touch my face, feeling the tender skin around my nose and flecks of dried blood.

“I call this early, Hunt. Some asshole tried to steal my hookup, so I punched him. Turns out, she was his girlfriend. Whoopsie me.”

“You’re drunk,” he deadpans.

“I sure as hell hope so after what I just saw. You seen Enzo around? Someone’s hijacked his body and made him go fucking soft.”

I’m delivered a smack on the head that makes my ears ring. Enzo’s face is downright unnerving. He looks ready to serve my carved-out organs for breakfast.

Hunter takes a sip of tea as he considers me. “You know the rules. Stick to curfew. Keep your nose clean and out of trouble. You should not be stumbling in at five o’clock in the morning.”

“Drunk and attacking our house guest,” Enzo adds.

“I’m a grown man of twenty-four. I don’t need a curfew.” I give them my best shit-eating grin. “Since when do we have guests? Let alone hot, screaming ones.”

Enzo tries to hit me again, but I dance back, easily dodging his next swing. He’s big and strong, but that makes him slow. I’m quick on my feet and well accustomed to defending myself.

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