Page 136 of Corpse Roads

Alyssa stares back at me.

Limp. Lifeless. Dead.

CHAPTER 25

LEIGHTON

HOW - MARCUS MUMFORD & BRANDI CARLILE

I’m the first one there when Harlow wakes up. I’ve been sleeping on her bedroom floor, dodging Sabre medics, IV drips and hired nurses. They pass me in a blur as I stare at her bed, unblinking.

After everything that happened, Hunter wasn’t willing to let her out of his sight. The hospital released her for home treatment when he threatened to shut down the department.

Propped up on my elbow, I’m half-heartedly watching my laptop while lost in thought. I’ve never felt so fucking alone. None of the others will speak to me, and Harlow nearly died.

It’s all my fault.

Every bit of it.

My life has been a series of shitty decisions and fatal mistakes. I’m the family screw-up; nobody expects much from me. Even growing up, my father never gave me a second thought.

The night I lost control and broke Thomas Green’s back for sleeping with my girlfriend, I lost any chance of ever proving myself. He will never walk again. I did that, accidental or not.

My anger is well concealed, but it’s always been there. The indignation of a kid overlooked and pushed aside. I play a good game, but not many people know the real me.

Diablo was the only one that seemed to understand. The world inside prison is a completely warped reality. Coming home was like being set adrift, without a lifeboat, into the Atlantic Ocean.

“Did Rachel s-seriously f-forgive Ross again?”

Her raspy voice scares the shit out of me. Looking up from my uncomfortable nest on the carpet, I find Harlow watching me through half-lidded eyes.

“Goldilocks?”

“Hey, Leigh.”

Her thin smile allows breath to enter my lungs for the first time since she was dragged from the sea. It’s fucking dizzying.

“You said it first, Rachel’s an idiot,” I force out.

“You better not have skipped ahead without me.”

I scramble to my feet, stretching sore muscles from camping out on the bare carpet. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Harlow lifts her hand and strokes it over Lucky’s ears. The dog hasn’t left her side, and not even Hunter had the heart to kick Lucky out of bed. She wanted to be with Harlow.

“I missed you,” she whispers weakly.

My feet are rooted on the spot. I can’t find it in myself to move any closer to her. People get hurt when I grow close to them. They suffer because of me. I can’t do that to her.

“I missed you more.”

Wincing when she tries to move, Harlow’s eyes dart around the bedroom. It’s late at night, the others are all downstairs. Hunter was taking another hysterical call from Giana when I last went down.

We’ve been taking turns watching Harlow, waiting for the moment her eyes would open. Nobody has slept a wink, and after the madness of the search party, we’re all ready to crash.

“What happened?” Harlow murmurs.

A lump gathers in my throat. I have to look away from her before I can answer.

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