Page 50 of Corpse Roads

“That makes no sense. Are you just making this up?”

Shaking his head, Leighton grabs a piece of popcorn and holds it in the air. His hand travels closer to my closed mouth. With the food pressing against my lips, he raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Open up.”

“No chance.”

“Don’t you trust me?” he asks simply.

Unable to resist the draw of his wide, impish smile, I relent and take a bite. Flavours burst across my tongue, causing me to moan before I can stop myself.

“Woah. S’good.”

“Told you.” Leighton nudges my shoulder playfully. “Have at it. Put some meat on those bones.”

We lapse back into comfortable silence as the show plays. He’s so relaxing to be around, more so than the others. Their intensity is a lot for me to handle, but Leighton’s like a cool, welcome breeze on a blistering summer’s day.

Stretching his legs back out, he sneaks underneath my blanket. With his knee brushing mine, I have to work on breathing through the automatic brush of anxiety. While he does make me feel at ease, the implicit trust I feel around him is even scarier.

“Harlow? Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Leighton’s voice is gentle and coaxing, tuned to melodic perfection. I’m unable to fight his siren’s call.

“I guess so.”

“I was wondering if you’d tell me about what happened to you?”

I choke on a mouthful of popcorn, chasing it down with a gulp of bottled water. Leighton looks contrite beneath his haphazard hair, dropping his eyes to our blanketed legs.

“I d-don’t… ah, why?” I splutter.

“I’m not spying for Hunter, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he answers sadly. “I just… I like spending time with you.”

My voice catches. “I… like being with you too.”

“Well, I wanted to know if there’s anything I should be doing, or anything I can be doing, to help you. No matter how small.”

His words make my stomach do this weird flippy thing that’s usually reserved for Enzo’s soft glances. I stuff the unknown feeling down to the depths of my heathen soul.

The guys said it themselves. This is only temporary. Once they have what they want—the sinister information buried deep in my brain—who knows where I’ll be sent.

This little slice of respite is bound to expire. Letting them in will only make it hurt more. When I let the girls get close to me, it killed another fractured piece of my heart to watch them die.

“My, ah, the people that, erm… they are very religious. Where I came from, that is,” I explain awkwardly.

“How so?”

I take a deep breath for courage. “Pastor Michaels’ job is to punish the sinners. He calls it redemption, but it’s not.”

“Pastor Michaels? That’s his name?”

Exhaustion has loosened my tongue. Despite getting more rest than I ever achieved in the freezing cold darkness, I feel more drained than ever. Lying is too hard.

“Yeah.”

“And does he help many of these… sinners?”

Our eyes meet—cerulean on viridian, confidence on terror. His inner light is calling to my darkness, demanding the truth. I’m powerless to hide my internal torment.

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