Page 91 of Corpse Roads
“We need to go somewhere this weekend,” he says abruptly. “It’s a… uh, work thing. Need your help with something.”
“M-Me?” I double-check.
“It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll explain more on Saturday.”
Without another word, Hunter brushes past Leighton on his way back in and disappears upstairs. I stare after him, unsure what has pissed off our resident hurricane so bad.
One minute he’s almost smiling, the next he can hardly look at me as he drops these bombshells. His hot and cold attitude is exhausting.
“Keep thinking so hard and your head will explode,” Leighton comments, pocketing his phone. “Ignore Mr Happy. He needs to cool off after work.”
“I think that was Hunter’s head exploding, actually.”
Leighton chokes on a laugh. “Believe it or not, Hunter does give a shit. That was as good as it gets with him. Takeout and a lecture.”
We return to the den while we wait for the food to arrive. I can hear Hunter’s footsteps as he slips downstairs into the gym before the boom of loud music echoes through the floor. He’s clearly got stuff on his mind tonight.
We’re halfway through Friends and watch several more episodes over cartons of noodles and Chinese chicken that Leighton fetches from outside the gate. Hunter’s plate sits untouched.
“They were obviously on a break,” he yells around a huge mouthful of food. “This is such bullshit.”
I jab an elbow into his ribs. “You’re the one that’s full of shit, Leighton Rodriguez. That is not an excuse for Ross’s behaviour.”
“Woah!” He almost chokes on a noodle. “Potty mouth, Goldilocks. You spend too much time with me. I’m corrupting you.”
“At least we know who’s to blame.”
“Go and wash your mouth out already.”
Despite his teasing tone, I fall silent, struggling with the intense urge to do exactly as he asks. Pastor Michaels made me swallow soap once. I yelled obscenities at him that Adelaide taught me, the pair of us giggling in the dark.
“Harlow? Am I losing you again?”
Covering my eyes, I try to force the bloody images from my mind. She screamed so loud, sometimes at night I can still hear it. I can hear all of them, every last girl that bled out in that freezing wasteland.
“Open your eyes, beautiful.”
“I… n-need a m-minute.”
Leighton’s fingers wrap around my wrist. “I’m here with you, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone this time.”
His breath tickles me, laced with the scent of the beer he finished and the familiar citrusy scent clinging to his sweats and t-shirt. I drink in the reassurance.
“You’re home, Harlow. Not there, home.” Leighton tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “No one here is going to hurt you.”
“What if I deserve it?”
“Don’t make me call bullshit again.”
When I feel calm enough to open my eyes, his signature smile is in place. Leighton settles back, but this time, he beckons for me to join him. I deliberate for a second before crawling across the sofa.
He’s grinning from ear to ear as I end up curled against his side, my ear resting over his pounding heartbeat.
“Eat up,” he orders, banding an arm around me. “No more yelling at Ross. We all know Rachel will forgive him.”
“If she does, she’s a moron.”
“I’m loving his newfound sharp tongue of yours, mystery girl.”