Page 128 of Corpse Roads

“Leighton?” I repeat.

“Who do you think he goes out drinking with? The kid’s got some serious shit going on, you know.” He taps his temple. “All up here.”

“What d-do you w-want with me?”

“I’ve been getting close to Leighton for months now.” His smile takes a sharp, dangerous edge. “He loves to talk after a few drinks. That boy needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut.”

Flipping open his jacket, Diablo pulls out a long, sharpened hunting knife. My heart somersaults. The blade is glinting with menace in Diablo’s hands as he uses it to clean his nails.

“Sabre’s operations have caused some problems for my organisation, Harlow. London is my city. Their jurisdiction means nothing to me.”

“Operations?”

Diablo narrows his eyes. “They raided our biggest warehouse and took something that belonged to us. I want it back. This is a trade, plain and simple. I planned to use Leighton, but you’ll do nicely.”

Fear pounds through me. “You followed us here?”

“It was easy enough once you left the big city. Now, what should we send them? Perhaps one of your fingers?”

I shrivel back into the chair. “I won’t help you to lure Sabre in. No way. You’ll have to kill me first.”

“So eager to die, are we?” He leans closer, licking his lips. “I’ve heard all about you. Tell me, did daddy touch his baby girl like he did those other women? Did you like it, Harlow?”

My eyes flit around the room, searching for an escape route. I need to get out of here right now. He knows too much.

“The windows are boarded up and the doors are locked,” Diablo supplies. “Do I look like an amateur? This place is a dump, I know. You can thank your boyfriend for that.”

“You’re w-wrong about them,” I stutter out. “They don’t care about me. I’m nothing to them. Holding me as bait won’t work.”

He reaches out and strokes his calloused hand along my jawline. Sickness rises up my throat, forcing me to clamp my mouth shut rather than throw up on him.

My fear of touch comes roaring back so fast, it’s disorientating. Living with the guys has desensitised me. I don’t want this disgusting snake touching me, though.

“Of course, they care,” he says simply. “We’ve seen the helicopters. The town is crawling with assholes in black, tearing the place apart.”

Hunter. Enzo.

Leighton. Theo.

Please, come find me.

“Don’t worry.” He breaks my silent prayers with a wink. “They won’t find you until I want them to.”

Pulling his phone out, Diablo shows me a grainy camera feed. It’s the rugged, snow-swept coastline of rural Devon, but Croyde is nowhere in sight.

“Say hello to Paulo. He’s keeping an eye on our perimeter. We sent your friends a nice little video to get them riled up.”

Panning the camera to the left, a huge, decrepit lighthouse comes into view. It’s high above the craggy cliffs, isolated from the clustered houses and town centre in the distance.

We’re inside.

The guys will never find me.

Tucking his phone away, Diablo shifts even closer. His hand strokes over my throat, teasing my pulse point with a single finger.

I fight to keep still as he caresses my collarbones next, gently tracing the edge of the scar peeking out of my shirt. His breath is hot on my skin.

“Hunter, Enzo and Theodore wiped out our business overnight,” he utters in a whisper. “They stole two million pounds in cash and butchered my men with machine guns.”

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