Page 55 of Corpse Roads

He tightens the blanket wrapped around him like a cape. “Sorry, who are you again?” His eyes meet mine. “Harlow, I rented us the extended edition of Batman Begins. Ready for a rewatch?”

There’s still popcorn stuck to his face as he winks at me. The other two look more than a little confused.

I clear my throat. “Leighton made a list of his top-ten favourite movies. We’re working through them all.”

“Seriously? Batman made the top ten?” Enzo deadpans.

Leighton’s mouth drops open. “Don’t knock it, Enz. You know I’m wet for Christian Bale. What a man.”

His eyes blow wide. “You’re… wet for him? That’s the word you’re choosing? Seriously?”

“Dude, did you see him topless?”

Hunter slams several cups of tea down. “Focus, idiots. We’re not debating fictional fucking characters right now. Jesus Christ.”

Smirking, Leighton helps himself to Hunter’s tea. Before he ends up with a broken nose, he retreats to the empty table on the other side of the room. Hunter’s glower deepens with each step.

“You were saying?” Leighton slurps the tea. “Dang, bro. This is a mean cuppa. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Give it back before I come over there and rearrange your face.”

“Didn’t you know that sharing is caring?” Leighton singsongs.

Sliding his tea over to Hunter before a fight breaks out, Enzo braces his hands on the breakfast bar and turns to me.

“Drink up. Have you taken your pain meds?”

“Not yet,” I admit, taking a sip of sweetened goodness.

Enzo makes everyone wait as he thumps back upstairs to retrieve my evening pills. I’m dying of embarrassment while the other two stifle the urge to kill each other.

When Enzo returns, he deposits the brightly coloured tablets in front of me. I shiver under the weight of his sharp gaze. He’s seriously going to stand there and watch me swallow them.

“You don’t need to watch,” I whisper.

“You were outside without a coat again,” he answers crisply. “Someone has to make sure you look after yourself.”

Washing them down with a warm mouthful of tea, I stick my tongue out for him to inspect.

“Satisfied?” I ask him.

“Not in the slightest,” he grumbles under his breath. “Let’s get this over with. She needs to rest.”

Rolling his eyes, Hunter returns his attention to me. “Harlow, I understand that Laura Whitcomb is deceased.”

I manage a nod.

“We were expecting this news after nearly two months, but we still don’t have a body. I need to take your statement. The killer is still out there, perhaps searching for his next victim.”

All of them are studying me now, tearing apart my defences and stealing my secrets for their own satisfaction.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask wearily.

Hunter drains his cup in one long gulp. “The press have started to join up the dots. We need to release a statement before that happens, announcing that you’re cooperating with the investigation.”

“Fuck no,” Enzo hisses. “We can’t tell those assholes that Harlow’s alive and helping us. It’s too dangerous for her.”

“We have to get out in front of this, Enz. We’ve been contracted by the SCU. That’s public money. Transparency is our only option.”

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