Page 92 of Corpse Roads

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Page 92 of Corpse Roads

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

Leighton’s chest rumbles with a contented noise. “I think I already am.”

He refocuses on the TV screen, scarfing down great mouthfuls of food, but I set mine aside. I’m glad he can’t see inside my head. No one else needs to know that we’re not alone in here. The ghosts are never far away.

In the corner, spilling blood and decaying skin across the hardwood floors, Laura waits in my traumatised imagination. The blood drains from my face as she raises a single finger.

It’s pointed straight at me.

The person who killed her.

CHAPTER 18

ENZO

MIDNIGHT DEMON CLUB - HIGHLY SUSPECT

Splashing my face in the bathroom sink, I savour the cool shock of water. My eyes are gritty and sore from another sleepless night. That’s three in a row, and I’m paying the price.

No amount of cold showers or triple-shot coffees can compete against the smothering grasp of exhaustion. I tried to run last night to wear myself out, but it did nothing to quell my anxiety.

I’ve been restless ever since Harlow’s DNA results came in. Keeping them from her feels wrong after all she’s been through, but we have to play this right. I want to research her family first.

We can’t gamble with her safety.

Nobody can be trusted right now.

Scraping back my messy, black hair, I leave the bathroom and return to Hunter’s office. Tea and coffee have been set up for our meeting, and Theo’s already downing his third cup.

He doesn’t bother looking up from his laptop as I help myself to more caffeine. This little ray of sunshine has been my constant company this week as we deal with the aftermath of that damned DNA report.

“Where’s Hunter?” I rub my eyes again.

“On his way in, I presume,” he answers absently. “I’m not his fucking keeper, Enz.”

“You’re particularly cheery today.”

Theo’s ice-cold blue eyes meet mine. His scruff of blonde ringlets hangs across his face, messy and tousled. There’s a ramen stain on his chest, and his clothes are heavily slept in. We’re a mess.

“I have barely slept for weeks.” Theo’s gaze hardens. “We’ve had the whole intelligence team assigned to Harlow’s case, and I’ve got three team members off with the flu. Leave me alone.”

Sitting down, I take a swig of coffee. “Have you tried yoga? Meditation? Bit of Pilates? Gotta work out that frustration somehow, man. I can’t have you hulking out on me.”

“Fuck you,” he mutters darkly.

“Hard pass. Your sparkling company is enough.”

Glaring daggers at his laptop screen, Theo ignores me completely. This is the most time we’ve spent together in years. I wish it was under better circumstances, but there’s nothing like a tragedy to bring a team together.

“You should come home and sleep in a real bed,” I add more seriously. “Eat a hot meal, take a day off. Your room is still there. Untouched.”

“I’m fine,” Theo insists, his eyelids drooping.

“How much longer is this going to go on?”

“I’m the only one qualified to operate the drones scouting for abandoned churches. I can’t take a day off.”

“You know full well that Kade got his licence two years ago. Don’t give me that shit.”




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