Page 79 of Corpse Roads
“You should choose your own movies from now on. Leighton will melt your brain with that shit.”
“I liked it,” I defend.
We pass beneath a thick canopy of trees cloaked in twinkling lights. As the rain eases off, little shop fronts begin to throw open their doors and lay out fresh fruits and vegetables, muttering about the unpredictable winter weather.
“What else do you like?” Enzo asks.
Despite devouring knowledge and new experiences from within my comfortable prison, there’s still so much about the world that I don’t know. My life, despite my best efforts, is exactly as Hunter said.
Little.
More than anything, I’m beginning to feel suffocated rather than protected. In the basement, I couldn’t see what I was missing. It was easier to accept my isolation.
“I don’t know. I’d like to find out.”
“There must be something,” Enzo pushes. “Humour me.”
“Well, I like to watch the sun rise and set.”
He nods, studying me out of the corner of his eye. “Lucky’s never had so much company outside. What else?”
“I like the feel of rain on my face and wet grass beneath my feet.” I tighten my jacket around me, feeling exposed. “Boiling hot showers are the best, and sleeping with the window open so I can feel the air on my skin at night.”
He listens intently, hanging on to every word.
“I like listening to your voice when you’re happy. Leighton’s laugh too, it’s adorable. And don’t tell him, but Hunter makes the best tea.”
Clearing my throat, I feel heat rise to my cheeks.
“I like not being alone anymore.”
Enzo suddenly draws us to a halt. Two calloused fingers lift my chin as he pulls the sunglasses aside. Our eyes collide. Blue on amber, nervous on certain, our lives couldn’t be further apart.
“You never have to be alone ever again,” he murmurs, searching my face.
“You guys can’t look after me forever.” I fight to keep my voice even, hoping to hide the fear that rises at the thought of leaving. “I’m a burden to you.”
His hand travels along my jawline, exploring the gaunt lines of my face. I’m still struggling to put on weight, despite moving to solid foods a couple of weeks ago.
I hold my breath, unable to stop myself from leaning into his touch. Enzo musters a sweet, heartbreaking smile.
“You are not a burden, Harlow.”
“Then what am I? A client?”
He licks his lips. “How about a friend?”
We remain frozen in the street, despite a trail of people passing us by. Enzo doesn’t move his hand, staring deep into my eyes. I realise there are tiny stripes of silver in his irises.
“You want to be my friend?” I whisper nervously.
“If you’ll allow me.”
My voice comes out raspy. “I’d like a friend.”
This time when he smiles, he flashes teeth. I think my heart actually stops for a moment. Seriously, what’s with these butterflies in my stomach? I need to find a trustworthy female to ask.
“Come on, I’m hungry,” he declares.
