Page 54 of Corpse Roads

“You do?”

I manage a timid nod. “It’s… peaceful.”

Hunter runs a hand over his messy hair. Chestnut flyways are pointing in every direction. He looks so tired, his beard less sculpted and more caveman-like as it grows out.

Part of me wants to take care of him and ensure he’s okay. I’ve seen enough people suffer to build a hatred for the pain of others. He can’t have slept much since I last saw him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he offers, keeping his voice low. “There have been some complications back at HQ.”

“To do with me?”

“No, we’ve been planning a raid for the last six months. Last night, we made our move. The case is being wrapped up as we speak.”

Hugging myself tight, I wince at the twinge of my broken arm. Hunter notices, the brief flash of gentleness vanishing. He climbs to his feet and offers me a hand.

“Come inside. We should talk properly.”

With reluctance, I let him help me back up. The feel of his fingers gripping mine is strangely soothing. I thought he would chew me out or drag me off to some lair to inflict his questioning.

Lucky sprints ahead when she spots Enzo waiting back inside the house. Too busy frowning at me with his huge arms crossed, he’s unprepared for Lucky smashing straight into him.

Despite being the size of a mountain, Enzo falls under her weight and loses himself to a storm of excited licking. I can hear him cussing out the beast from here.

Hunter snorts. “Someone should’ve filmed that.”

“I think he would kill you if you did,” I murmur back.

“Worth it.”

“What were you doing out there alone?” Enzo barks as we approach, climbing back to his feet. “Dammit, Harlow. It isn’t safe to wander around.”

“Your people have been watching me this entire time.” I gesture back outside. “I’ve been taking a walk every night.”

He scrapes a hand through his tangled, raven locks. “We were worried. You weren’t here when we got home.”

Taking a chance, I reach up and briefly touch his bicep. “I’m sorry, Enzo.”

“It’s… fine.” A heavy breath whooshes out of his nostrils. “Come inside. Get warm.”

We pile around the marble breakfast bar as Hunter boils the kettle for several cups of tea. He seems to drink the stuff like water. It must flow in his veins instead of blood.

Enzo retrieves a thick, grey hoodie and drapes it over me. His woodsy scent clings to the material, and it reminds me of fallen leaves draped in the fragrance of pine trees.

“You been okay?” he asks quietly. “Sorry things took longer than we thought.”

“Leighton’s kept me company.” I tighten the hoodie around me. “He’s made me watch some terrible TV shows though.”

Hunter scoffs while steeping his tea bag. “Sounds about right. Mr Slacker could be a professional couch potato.”

“He has looked after me,” I reply sharply before backtracking. “I mean… he, well, I don’t know. He’s nice.”

“Nice?” Enzo repeats in confusion. “Our Leighton?”

I avoid both of them looking at me like I’m an alien and adjust my plastered arm for a distraction. The thud of half-awake footsteps approaches the kitchen to disrupt our awkward moment.

“Jesus.” Leighton stumbles in, rubbing his eyes. “Are you two real or is this a bad dream?”

“Sit down, Leigh.” Hunter sighs.

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