Page 104 of Where Roads Lead

“Are you making fun of the romance genre, Will? Because I have to say, I think men who do that have the weakest sense of masculinity I’ve ever encountered!”

“I’m not making fun of romance!”

“Then why did you mutter?”

“Because I don’t think you have any idea that horror movies usually end with—”

Michael Myers appeared back on the screen, suddenly appearing over the shoulder of Jamie Lee Curtis, and Elsie dove headfirst into my side, bracing both hands over her head as if she were preparing to brace for his attack.

The irony of the situation was not lost on me.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d watched a movie with anyone, let alone a woman. One I’d known for a little over a month, might I add.

And here I was, in her house, almost certainly taking advantage of the situation in some way.

And despite it all, there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to be a better man and put an end to it.

“It’s okay, Elsie,” I told her, tentatively draping an arm over her. “He’s not real.”

I hated that she was scared, even if it was because of an actor in a mask. What I didn’t hate was the way she burrowed into my side, as if she trusted me to protect her from invisible monsters that existed solely on her television screen.

“But it’s not like he’s a monster,” she groaned from under my arm, finally peeking up. “He’s just a psycho killer, and those are definitely real.”

“Not in Colbridge,” I assured her.

“Promise?” she asked hopefully.

“Promise.”

I don’t know how, but my words caused her to relax under me, and even though she seemed substantially less afraid than before, she didn’t move away.

But neither did I.

“You really weren’t kidding about no happy endings, huh?” Elsie let out a shaky breath as the end credits rolled.

We’d watched not only the first movie, but the two sequels that followed, because Elsie was hellbent that the story would somehow redeem itself on some uplifting note.

By the end of the third movie, Elsie was shaking and decided she was done with horror films for good, and I was right there with her.

For some reason, I felt just as freaked out as she did, though my nerves had nothing to do with the movie.

“Well, I’d argue that the villains usually get a happy ending,” I said, awkwardly tugging my hat back on my head.

I didn’t have any other excuse to keep sitting there beside her, so I stood, knowing that there was nothing left for me to do except leave.

“Hey,” Elsie eyed me warily from the couch, “where are you going?”

“Home,” I said, glancing at my watch. “It’s late.”

“Uh, no way.” She leaped to her feet, rushing to stand guard at the door. “Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“You do not force me to watch three horror movies and then say, ‘Alright, I’ll be going now!’”

“I did not force you to watch anything,” I countered. “You’re the one who said things were looking up after the ending of the second movie.”

“Fine,” she said, stepping aside. “Go. But just know that I’ll be spending the night staring at the door, flinching at every noise and expecting to get murdered if I dare close my eyes, and it’s all your fault.”