Romeo started to laugh. “Sounds hot.”
“I need a pen just to work it out.”
“It can keep you busy in the night—you can imagine she put whatever you want.”
“You’re right. I can mix it up. That one’s a keeper.”
“Open another.”
“Okay.”
Romeo rested his back against the bars and waited for Will to start speaking.
He made a confused sound, then muttered to himself.
“What is it?” Romeo asked.
“I’m not sure what she wants you to do with it… I don’t get it.”
“How do you know it’s a chick, could be from a guy.”
“I dunno … maybe.”
“It would help if you told me what’s in the letter?”
“There’s no letter, it’s just a picture.”
“Of what?”
“A feather.”
Romeo turned around and thrust his arm through the bars. “Give me it back, give me it back now!”
“Okay, okay—
“Now, Will, and if you fuck this up, I swear I’ll never give you another letter. I’ll never describe what Holly’s wearing.”
“Jesus, Romeo.”
Romeo saw Will reach through his bars with the letter. He pressed it on the floor, then shoved it towards Romeo. He slapped his hand down, capturing the letter. His heart thundered, his breathing came in rasps, and he pulled the feather from the envelope.
Half black, half white, a magpie’s feather, and Romeo’s lips stretched into a smile. It was from Chad, a sign that he was okay, or maybe a thank you for cheering him up. Romeo didn’t know exactly why Chad had sent it, or why he had risked exposing their secret connection, but in that moment he didn’t care.
Romeo looked at the envelope. The address to the prison had been printed, and there was no return address, only a sorting office sticker over the stamp. Romeo tried to make out the word, the letter hadn’t come from Berkshire, or anywhere near it. Chad had posted it from afar so it couldn’t be traced back to him.
Clever magpie, Romeo thought, gazing at the feather.
“You gonna explain about the feather?” Will asked.
“No.”
Romeo laid down on his bunk, and using a bit of sticky tac, pinned the feather to the wall next to Chad’s face, and the article with the headline, The One That Got Away.
****
The anger rose up inside him, stifling, thickening, something sicky and hot building in his belly. He threw a stone, and the dumb bird skipped out of the way, it even opened its beak, and let out its chattering call, as if it was laughing at Romeo’s attempt.
He had set it free, he was doing a good deed, but it didn’t go. It followed him, turned up outside his bedroom window day after day, mocking him.
Romeo picked up another stone and threw it. He released it from his grip too soon, he missed the magpie completely, and instead the stone bounced on the roof slates. One slipped, and just as the magpie opened its mouth to chatter, it came down on top.
Romeo wanted to hear it, the laughter. He wanted to see it effortlessly skip out of the way using the wing he’d fixed, he wanted it to mock him, but there was only silence. The hollow silence between a lightning flash, and the rumble of thunder. He felt it in his chest, an intense emptiness where his anger had swelled.
He stumbled forward on shaky legs, eyes unblinking on the magpie. The one thing in the whole world that saw underneath the mask. The one thing that had refused to leave him despite the ugliness inside him.
He’d killed it.
But that wasn’t anything new, he’d killed before.
Bugs, rodents, other birds—he’d been crushing the eggs for years—but there had always been sick satisfaction With the magpie there was only the emptiness, and something else, something higher in his chest where his heart pounded. A tightness, a compression, a cold sensation. A gutting realization that whatever he did, whatever he tried, whoever he wanted to be, wasn’t possible.
He and the monster were inseparable, indistinguishable, and he needed to accept it.
Romeo approached the dead magpie, and right before his eyes it turned into Chad.
Chad on the mattress in the crumbling farmhouse. Chad with a dark bruise on his neck, and a red raw burn on his chest.
Number one.
He kneeled, touched Chad’s clammy face, stroked the back of his fingers against his hair, as soft and smooth as a magpie’s feathers. He encouraged Chad to wake, but there was no response. He was dead, and Romeo knew by the ache in his hands, he’d done it.
The tightness, the cold sensation felt worse than before. He felt sick with it, fevered by it, and he yelled his anguish, as heartbroken and tortured as the howl Chad released over his dead dog.
Romeo woke panting, covered in sweat. He flexed his hands, trying to stretch out the ache. He could smell burned flesh and fell to his knees on the floor before shuffling over to the toilet. He vomited as quietly as possible, then wiped his mouth on some tissue.
“You okay?” Will called.
Romeo heard him at the bars to his cell, knocking them to let Romeo know he was there. Romeo flushed the toilet, then sat by his own set of bars.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Another nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Romeo, it’s every few days since you got here. You gonna tell me about them yet?”
Romeo snorted. The magpie dreams had always been a part of his life since he’d killed it, but Chad had infiltrated them.
“I was dreaming about … about Chad.”
“You mean the one you didn’t kill?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s some obsession if dreaming about him alive makes you shout like that.”
Romeo didn’t bother correcting Will. Everyone made their own assumptions, and he let them. His nightmare came from imagining he’d killed Chad, not from Chad escaping his clutches.
He’d thought about killing Chad when they were in the farmhouse together. It was like having a permanent itch and knowing not to scratch it, but it was tempting.
Then Romeo remembered the moment in the kitchen.
They’d been having sex, something that Chad held out on longer than Romeo had anticipated. It was hot, felt better than Romeo imagined, and when he closed his hands around Chad’s neck, it hit another level. He’d been so close to killing him, denying him air, crushing his windpipe, and Chad had looked like he was loving it. The pleasure intensified with the risk, the struggle to keep the monster in check, to not go too far, it added to the ecstasy of the moment. Strangling wasn’t supposed to be arousing, it was only a method of execution, but it had definitely turned him on to have his hands on Chad like that while thrusting into his begging body.
The memory got him hard in an instant. He palmed his inappropriate erection.
“Hey, what bird did that feather come from?”
“What?”
“The feather. It’s black and white, right?”
Romeo snorted. “It’s not from a penguin.”
“I know that.”
Romeo got to his feet and climbed back into bed. “Night, Will.”
He wasn’t going to sleep. He was going to sort out his hard on while thinking of Chad in the farmhouse.
Chapter Six
Romeo’s father marveled at his artistic skill, complemented his landscape paintings, boasted to his friends about his son’s talent. It made him proud, made his eyes light up, and his smile crease his face, but that wasn’t the memory that came first into Romeo’s mind when he thought of his father.
That was the rats.
They were living in the roof of the house, had even chewed through some cables, and started a fire.
The rats had to go.
Romeo had been twelve.
He asked why not poison, but his father told him that would be cruel, a longer, painful death. He wasn’t killing out of pleasure, but a necessity,
and it needed to be fast. Romeo helped him set up traps in the roof, designed to break the rat’s necks in a flash.
Romeo laid in bed at night, staring at the ceiling for hours, and he was rewarded with the sound of the trap, followed by a shaking, and jerking.
His father assured him in the morning the rat hadn’t felt anything it was just its nervous system being triggered, but it still bothered Romeo. He didn’t like the thrashing, and shaking, the thudding. He thought it would be sudden, a snap and then blissful silence, but he’d been wrong.
What he learned from his father was it was more humane to kill fast, than slow, and he took that vital piece of information with him. He also learned he didn’t like thrashing, or jerking either, as still and quick as possible was a more dignified end for both victim and killer.
****
Romeo’s gaze locked onto the door. His shoulders ached, his fingers were all numb, and the sound of air wheezing in and out of his nose filled the silence.
Chad was late.
Paul and Fred were leaning on the wall behind him, sighing the longer it took for Romeo’s guest to arrive. They were all waiting for the door the other side of the protective barrier to open, and when it did, Romeo’s heart pounded at the sight of Chad’s smile.
His shirt was tucked in, his tie was straight, and pinned beneath his arm was a newspaper. It was only when he sat down, did Romeo realize it was all a mask. He could tell Chad wasn’t quite right by the haunted look in his eyes, but he was better than the last time.
“Invest in a better brand of concealer.”
Chad snorted, then brushed his forefinger under his eye. “Give me a break, my first time using it. Kate said you couldn’t tell…”
“Kate’s a liar. At least the tie’s looking good.”
Chad lifted it, then gestured to the brown stain. “Apart from the coffee.”
“God, I miss good coffee, stuff in here tastes like dirty water.”
“Anything interesting happened?”
“You missed our prison production of the ice queen.”
Chad laughed. “Yeah?”
“I was the handsome prince of course.”
“Well, of course.”
“And then yesterday we had a group outing to the zoo.”
“Surely there’s enough animals in there.”
It was Romeo’s turn to laugh. “True, and I’m the scariest one…”
“The most handsome, and the scariest, too, what a combination.”
“It got me this far, and it got me you…”
Chad swallowed and looked down at his hands on the table. “Come on, really, tell me about your week.”
“Why?”
“Because it will distract me from mine.”
Romeo tilted his head, studying Chad’s expression. He wasn’t right, barely holding it together.
“Okay. I had another interview with Holly.”
“Stevenson? She’s still writing her feature on you.”
“Apparently.”
“How long does it take?”
“I suspect she’s stalling.”
“Why?”
“Because she thinks she’s in love with me.”
Chad’s smile fell, and he shuffled awkwardly.
“In your dreams.” Paul mumbled.
“No, thanks.” Romeo said over his shoulder. “But I suspect she features in yours.”
“Shut it.”
“Holly’s in love with you…” Chad whispered.
Romeo turned his attention back to Chad.
“She thinks she is, but she doesn’t know me, she just knows the made up me I gave her for the article.” Romeo stuck out his bottom lip. “The wounded, abused version who just needs a hug and a cup of cocoa.”
Paul cursed, but Romeo didn’t grace him with a response. He was too intrigued by Chad’s reaction. His darting eyes, and fidgeting, and his cheeks growing redder by the second.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Chad blurted.
“Kinda looks like it.”
“You’ve just told me some woman you’ve been talking to loves you … tell me how I should be feeling.”
“You should feel nothing. It doesn’t matter what she thinks, or how she feels—”
“But she gets to talk to you, no limit, no restriction, what if … what if…”
“What?”
Chad threw his hands up. “I dunno. What if you start to prefer her company to mine?”
“Not gonna happen.”
Romeo couldn’t stop his lips lifting into a smile.
Chad narrowed his eyes at him. “What?”
“You’re cute when your jealous.”
“Fuck you.”
“If only…”
“You’re an asshole.”
Romeo looked down at his prison uniform. “A bright orange asshole.”
It had the desired effect, Chad started to laugh. He groaned, shaking his head.
“Why do you always do that?”
“What?”
“Defuse the situation by making me laugh.”
Romeo shrugged. “I dunno. Point is, you have nothing to worry about with Holly.”
“Then why bring her up?”
Romeo shrugged. “You asked how my week went, and I find it interesting watching you react to things … you’re fascinating to watch.”
“I’m jealous … I’m insecure.”
“Insecure?”
“Carry on telling me more about your week.”
Romeo stared at Chad for a few seconds, then continued. “I got mail, I ate in my cell, I exercised in my cell, I jerked off—”
“Romeo.” Fred said. “Not appropriate.”
“What do you mean. It was part of my week, the best part actually.”
“Me and Fred don’t wanna hear about it.” Paul said.
“But Chad does, Chad featured in it.”
Romeo didn’t think it was possible for someone to turn red so fast, but Chad’s face burned brighter than his jumpsuit.
Paul made a disgusted sound. “Let me guess, were you strangling him to death, did that get you going?”
“You’re not far off actually.”
“Sicko.”
“Enough.” Fred said.
Romeo sighed. “I think that’s enough about me. What about you?”
Chad looked away. “Aside from work, I got mail, ate in my apartment, exercised in my apartment … that’s it.”
“Jesus, which one of us is locked up again? At least I had a little fun in my cell, too…”
“I’ve been too distracted for fun.”
Romeo sighed, then dropped his gaze to the newspaper. “Crossword?”
“Yeah.”
Chad flattened the newspaper on the table, then flashed a look at Romeo. He returned Chad’s pointed look, then hummed as he leaned forward to see the “clues.”
“A portable container,” Romeo said carefully, “could be used to carry files, papers, four letters.”
The answer was case, and Chad’s eyes sparked with understanding. He nodded, studying the crossword. He’d only confirmed what Romeo already knew, a case Chad was working on was the reason for his haunted look, and his restless nights, but his insecurity… Romeo didn’t understand how that fit.
Chad licked his lips. “What about this, to recreate, four letters.”
Copy.
Romeo shook his head. “No idea. I think my brain’s slowly wasting away in here … give me another.”
“A house pet, three letters.”
Something clicked in Romeo’s head. He widened his eyes, looking Chad up and down. His brow twitched, the redness to his eyes seemed even more intense. His haggard, haunted appearance made sense.
Copycat.
“Dog.” Paul said. “House pet, three letters. It’s dog.”
Chad broke eye contact with Romeo and looked at Paul. He smiled, but it was all fake. “Yeah, course it is … thanks.”
“And you’re the detective…”
“A detective that’s lost his mind apparently.”
“You said it…”
Romeo turned around, and fixed Paul with a glare. He heard Chad close the newspaper then folded it on the table. It had served its purpose, the puzzle page in the Canster Times allowed them to send secret messages, but only when it was allowed in the prison. When murders were headline news, Chad was prohibited from bringing them inside.
There was a copycat killer on the loose. The reason for Chad’s torment, and it was yet to hit the press. The public didn’t know.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.”
Chad wiped his hand down his face, not suspicious to anyone watching, but Romeo looked at all the digits on his hand, all spread out, indicating five. The Copycat Killer had got his number five.
It was too much information to take in, and Romeo couldn’t dissect how he was feeling.
There was someone else out there, murdering, marking his victims. There must’ve been a lot of similarities if Chad was calling him a copycat. Someone else with the same urges as him, maybe they used their hands, too, marked their victim with a burned number, used their victim’s possessions.
His countdown had triggered someone else’s, maybe they were counting down to their freedom, too. An allowance to get rid of their desires—their monster, once and for all.
Maybe the copycat was just like him.
Chad gasped, and Romeo glanced up. His expression was horror struck, eyes wide, lips slightly parted and trembling. All Romeo’s thoughts had shown on his face, his heart was pounding, he was breathing fast, and his lips were up in a big smile.
“You’re—you’re happy?”
He wasn’t going to lie to Chad, he didn’t think he had to.
Romeo laughed. “I guess I am.”
Chad’s eyes didn’t leave his, and the fear and shock in them didn’t dull, it deepened. Romeo winced when the legs of Chad’s chair scraped against the floor. His red-rimmed eyes shimmered, and he turned away from Romeo.
“Wait!”
Chad didn’t stop. He left the visiting room, slamming the door behind him.
Romeo face planted the table, cursing under his breath.
Two for Joy Page 5
