Page 75 of Corpse Roads

“That was a close one.”

“Good thinking there.” Hesitantly, I slide an arm around her waist to hold her close. “You covered our asses.”

Her small, pert breasts press against my torso. “Believe it or not, I can be useful.”

“I never said that you aren’t useful.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Still clutching my jacket in a death grip, Harlow guides me back to the door. She opens it a crack to listen, allowing a thin sliver of light to illuminate the cramped cupboard.

“I think they’re gone. Who were those people?”

“Reporters,” I growl out. “Sally Moore’s a soulless bitch. I know her editor, and he owes me a favour. She won’t have a job by the end of the week.”

The thin strip of light illuminates Harlow’s face. I’m trapped by her brilliant blue eyes boring into me, nervous and afraid. Lower still, her glistening bottom lip is caught between her teeth.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” I find myself promising.

Her eye contact doesn’t break. The tension is excruciating. She wears the same broken expression as the night I dismissed her, throwing up impenetrable walls between us.

I want to reach out and bite that lip, tasting her sweetness for myself. A second before giving in, the DNA report comes back to me, and all of its messy implications.

“Your session with Richards… was it good?”

Harlow quickly looks away as the moment passes.

“Fine.”

“Did you get any more information we can use?”

The angry little spitfire inside of her rises to the surface, her eyes filling with annoyance. Goddamn me to hell, I’m fucking hard watching her expression darken and hands tighten into fists.

She doesn’t look like someone who’s deliberately misleading us all, lying her ass off while eating our food and abusing our trust. I just don’t see it. My judgement is never wrong.

“I told you everything, Hunter.”

“There are significant gaps in your memory,” I point out. “We need to establish a reliable timeline.”

Surprising me, Harlow places a hand on my chest and shoves me backwards. I nearly topple over a brush propped against the wall before righting myself.

“I was locked in a cage, starved, beaten, and neglected by monsters that enjoyed killing other girls. I can’t remember shit because I don’t want to remember. Get off my back.”

Her chest rises and falls in a rapid rhythm. She looks like she wants to punch me in the nose again, but on purpose this time.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I backtrack.

“Yeah. You did.”

Through the slanted light, I can see her lips are twisted into a grimace. It hurts me to see the pain I’m causing. I don’t usually give a fuck, but with her, I’m not in control of my feelings.

“Give me a break, Harlow.” I attempt to approach her, my hands spread. “I’m trying to fix this mess. It’s nothing personal.”

“Well, I’m trying to figure out how to be alive in this crazy, confusing place. You’re not making it any easier.”

My hands hang mid-air as I wrestle with my need to touch, protect, and cherish her. Even if it goes against every last warning bell blaring inside me. Caring only equals heartache.

“You’re right,” I blurt.

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