Page 97 of Corpse Roads

“I had to break the news. The media are determined to uncover Harlow’s identity. I didn’t want her to hear from anyone but us.”

“Hunt!” I smash a fist against the table. “We have no idea who the fuck these people are. I don’t trust them. You shouldn’t have just told her that Harlow’s alive.”

“She’s her mother,” Hunter defends.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass who Giana is. We have to keep Harlow safe, even if that means keeping her family from her until we know more. Goddammit.”

His eyes narrow. “If Giana found this out from anyone but us, our reputation would have been shattered. She could sue our stupid asses for keeping her daughter from her.”

“Reputation, again? Do you care about anything else?”

“Of course, I do,” he snaps angrily. “But someone has to think about the bigger picture. You’re incapable of being impartial.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too.”

Throwing my handful of papers down, I step outside to take some calming breaths. Hunter is the most infuriating, cold-hearted bastard at times. Even if everything he does is for the good of our family. His constant need for logic and order drives me up the wall.

But we’re all under pressure.

I can’t afford to break like Theo.

Returning to the office, I sit back down and pour some more coffee. Hunter barely spares me a glance. It’s rare he knows when to shut the hell up, but he doesn’t break the silence first.

“What did Giana say then?” I sigh.

“She was hysterical when I broke the news. We didn’t have much time to compare notes.”

“We have some more information here. According to public records, she remarried six years ago.”

“What about the ex-husband?”

“Oliver Kensington’s location is unknown. He was released from prison after serving a seven-year sentence and dropped off the grid. Hasn’t been seen since.”

“Motherfucker,” Hunter curses.

Unease twists in my gut. Harlow deserves the chance to have a real family, but the idea of letting these strangers anywhere near her makes me want to beat the shit out of someone. Something doesn’t sit right with this narrative.

I reach for my coffee. “What now?”

“I have to take Harlow to meet her mother.” Hunter crosses his arms. “Giana’s been calling every hour, asking when we’re coming.”

“Has Richards agreed to this?”

“Hardly. You know he wouldn’t approve.”

“Maybe he has a point,” I suggest. “We don’t want to push Harlow over the edge. She doesn’t remember any of this.”

“What else can I do, Enz?” Hunter drops his head into his hands. “Harlow can’t get better until she knows the truth.”

“Then I want to be there.”

“Not this time,” he snips back. “I need you here now that Theo’s fucked off. We still have a missing girl to find, and the intelligence team needs managing.”

“Get Kade to do it.”

“He’s running point on the reconnaissance op in Northumberland. We have to find that damn chapel.”

Frustrated, I fight the urge to bang my head against the table. The distance between here and home where we left Harlow asleep this morning is too much. This trip will be even further, and I fucking hate it.

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