Page 40 of Corpse Roads

“Keep your hands to yourself or find another place to live. Harlow’s under my protection. She doesn’t need you messing up what little life she has left.”

Leighton shoves him back with significant strength. “Don’t touch me. I’m not a child. I know how to conduct myself.”

“Do you? Could’ve fooled me”

“Fuck you, Hunt.”

Locked in a bubble of rage, they look ready to kill each other. I want to duck underneath the nearby table and hide from the confrontation.

As Hunter’s words sink in, anger replaces my anxiety. Somehow, somewhere, I find the strength to squeeze out a furious sentence.

“My life isn’t little.”

Hunter gives me a side-look.

“Of course it isn’t.” Leighton breaks free, brushing his rumpled clothes off with a glower.

“Is that what you think of me?” I ask tearfully.

Looking between us both, Hunter looks lost for words. It’s the first time I’ve seen him unsure of himself. Leaving him spluttering, I clamber down from the stool and walk out without looking back.

Neither of them follows me.

Shame weighs me down like lead.

If that’s what Hunter thinks of me, I don’t want to be around him. I’d crawl back into my cage if I could at this moment. In that hellish wasteland, I know the rules and expectations.

I can play the game, and play it well.

This place… it’s too much.

I want my life to be big. Bigger than the whole world and every last monstrous person in it. The killer blow, though? Hunter’s right.

I’ll never be more than the pathetic person my parents made me. A broken doll, destined for little more than hell’s final taste of oblivion.

He who be worthy shall find redemption.

Get on your knees and pray, Harlow.

Pray for the Lord to forgive you.

Running without seeing, I collapse in a darkened corner. The prayers are already rolling off my tongue on instinct. My fingers slot together as I struggle to kneel despite my injuries.

I recite my prayers for forgiveness four times. Just as I was taught, a lesson forged in the devil’s punishing fires. The words are scorched on to the very fabric of my splintered mind.

It still isn’t enough.

Nothing will ever be enough.

CHAPTER 9

ENZO

COME UNDONE - MY DARKEST DAYS

After another gruelling run, I pass Hunter leaving in the driveway. His expression is steely as he speeds away in the convertible Mercedes. My exhausted wave is unreturned. Charming.

He doesn’t tend to use that car in the winter. We have the company SUV for cooler weather, and the convertible is more of a toy to satisfy his inner adrenaline junkie. Speed limits don’t usually stop him.

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