“Does it hurt?”
“Strange.” Romeo slurred.
Zander turned back to the governor. “He needs an MRI scan.”
“He’s a criminal.” Paul argued.
“We still have a duty of care. He’s still my patient.”
“He’s an animal…”
“Enough.” The governor said, glaring at Paul. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
“But he’s faking it.”
“He’s a high-profile prisoner, and thanks to Holly Stevenson this incident is all over the press. We have to do this by the book, and if he needs outside medical attention, then we have to give him that.”
Paul backed off, seething and shaking his head.
“What’s gonna happen to me?” Romeo asked. It took Zander a few seconds to understand what he’d asked, then he nodded.
“We’re gonna get you to hospital.”
“You said I’m in hospital.”
“A different hospital. They’ll be able to tell us more.”
“More?”
“About what’s going on in your head. I think you could have a bleed, or a blockage.”
“Enough of this shit.” Paul said, he came towards Zander, pulled Zander’s pencil from his pocket, then stabbed Romeo in the arm. The tip went in, more than the tip, at least half a centimeter of pencil went into the meat of his forearm.
They all froze.
Think of Chad. Think of Chad. Think of Chad.
It took everything, every bit of self-control Romeo had. He used his mask, looked down in confusion at his arm, and the pencil sticking out of it, but he didn’t react. He didn’t curse or grab Paul, and bash his head open like he wanted to. He stayed perfectly still, until Paul backed off with his mouth hanging open, and his hands up.
“I—I…”
“That tingles.” Romeo whispered.
Zander took the pencil out, studied the gushing wound, then flicked his angry gaze at Paul. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I thought he was faking.”
The governor moved away. “I need to make the arrangements.”
“Did he just stab me with a pencil?” Romeo asked.
“Yeah, fucking animal…” Zander said, before pressing down on the wound.
Romeo didn’t flinch, or make any outward sign he could feel it, but inside, he was howling in pain. He got the green light for a hospital trip, and it only cost him a hole in his arm, and a broken bone in his face.
Chad was definitely worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
Fred helped him down the corridor, through the seemingly never-ending doors, and gates, until they were walking outside, across the secure carpark. It was dark, but there was a murmuring, a crowd waking, before the shouts of his name, and the camera flashes started.
“Fucking animals.” Fred mumbled.
Two officers were in front of them, two officers were behind, and despite the fact he struggled to walk, they still cuffed his wrists. Paul opened the door of the prison van, the same type that had bought Romeo to the prison almost a year before. He pointed at him to get inside, and he made a show of stumbling slightly before climbing onboard.
He tried to get comfortable on the small seat, but with his arms secured at his back, he knew it would be a bumpy and painful ride to get to their destination. Paul slammed the door shut, and Romeo heard the crunch of the lock.
The engine rumbled to life, and they were moving. It was slow at first, the van was struck by the swarm of journalists, a camera hovered by the small window, but Romeo ducked to avoid getting captured. One voice broke through the non-stop questions, Holly Stevenson’s. She shouted for Romeo, and a fist banged the door beside him.
“You’re gonna be okay.” She shouted.
“Goodbye, Holly.”
The van picked up speed, they must’ve broken through the crowd, and were on their way to Norman’s Hospital. He knew the layout of the hospital, had played the homeless-man long enough to get a feel for where the exits were.
He’d taken a big risk after the DI had his heart attack, but he needed to see for himself he hadn’t accidentally caused someone’s death.
That would’ve complicated his countdown, put a blip in his target number.
It wasn’t part of his plan.
Getting inside hadn’t been a problem, he’d walked through the front entrance, but after someone spotted him lurking, he had to look for a different exit. The man followed him, yelling at him, drawing attention to him. He couldn’t escape through the outpatient doors, he had to find somewhere quieter, where no one would, or could, draw attention to him.
He found one.
Not the huge elevator to the outpatients’ underground parking lot, but a smaller one near the cancer ward. Further away, through winding corridors, and up and down stairs, but it was there. A quieter, private carpark attached to the ward, overlooking fields, Romeo imagined the patients had a good view of the sunrise each morning.
The van turned suddenly, and Romeo’s cheek collided with the wall. He winced as his teeth dug into his cheek, not only swollen on the outside, but inside, too. The lump pressed against his teeth making it hard to move his mouth.
It helped with the slurring at least.
****
The door flew open, Paul reached inside and gripped onto Romeo’s bicep before tugging him out. He stumbled and had to be steadied by Fred waiting at the bottom of the steps. Romeo recognized the ER department, but didn’t react to it, he looked over to Zander coming towards him, clipboard in hand.
“How you feeling?”
“The same.”
He saw flashing lights out of the corner of his eye, not ambulances, but police cars. They’d gone all out to escort him. He didn’t react, but kept his head hanging low, and let Zander guide him into the hospital. When people looked at him, they saw the orange jumpsuit, then the mass of his swollen face. It was obvious he was a convict by the cuffs and clothing, but they had no idea which convict they were all gawping at.
“They’ll take your blood pressure, and do some other tests, too.”
“The scan?”
“I think they’ve got it all set up for you.”
Zander distanced himself and joined a group of men and women all in their scrubs. He handed over his clipboard, had a quick chat, then turned to Romeo and gestured him forward. His entourage followed, walking around him like they were a net ready to catch him.
They seemed to relax the more he limped along looking sorry for himself.
“I’m radiologist Thomas Reed.”
He held out his hand to Romeo, then withdrew it fast when he realized his hands were cuffed at his back. He didn’t seem fazed by Romeo being a criminal, more irritated.
“I’ve had to reschedule others for this.”
Zander nodded. “I know, we’ll be quick.”
“I hope so. Follow me.”
Romeo walked after him, scanning the corridor. He knew two officers had stayed outside the ER department, another two waited in the reception, leaving six officers accompanying him to the scanner.
“You’ll have to remove his cuffs.” Thomas said.
Paul snorted. “No chance of that.”
“Nothing metal can go inside the scanner.”
“You’ll have to make an exception.”
“The cuffs will break it.”
He shoved open a door and led Romeo to the white tube in the middle of the room. He put the clipboard Zander gave him on the bed, then turned back to Paul.
“And no one can be in the room while it takes place.”
“Let me get this straight.” Paul said. “You want me to undo his cuffs and leave the room.”
“That’s right.”
“No chance.”
Romeo looked down at the clipboard, the tempting pencil. No bigger than the ones used in betting shops. He could hide it in his closed fist. He turned to face Paul and Thomas squaring up against each other.
“The cuffs will interfere
with the results.”
Paul glanced at Fred. “There’s no way.”
“The governor has authorized this.”
“I’m not leaving the room.”
“Fine.” Thomas said. “You can stand in front of the door, but the rest of you need to get out, and the cuffs need to come off, all the metal on you as well.”
“Like what?”
“Phone, keys, change,” Thomas pointed at Paul’s belt. “The pepper spray, the baton.”
“No way.”
“Hundreds of people rely on this machine every week. I won’t risk it breaking.”
“Fine.” Paul said, unloading the contents of his pockets and belt to Fred. “Happy?”
“I’m over the moon.”
“Do you have any cable ties?” Paul asked.
“No, I don’t, and he needs to be lying flat.”
“Bed restraints then?”
“Look,” Fred said. “Let’s just get this done quickly, then we can get the cuffs back on him, and leave Doctor Thomas to get back to his patients.”
Paul slumped, then nodded. Five officers left the room, leaving Romeo with just Paul and Thomas.
“Take his cuffs off.”
Paul cursed, then manhandled Romeo until he could get to his wrists. He leaned close as he undid them, breathing by Romeo’s ear. “Don’t try anything stupid.”
The cuffs were off. The weight of them gone.
“Right, Romeo, lay down on the bed.” Thomas said.
He whirled around, pencil in his grip and plunged it straight into Paul’s arm. He cried out, gripping the wound, and Romeo got behind him, hooking his arm around Paul’s throat, tightening the grip.
“Hurt’s doesn’t it.”
Paul struggled, clawing at Romeo’s arm, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He pointed the bloodied pencil at Thomas.
“Anyone come in, and I’ll break his neck.”
“You’re a mad man.” Paul croaked.
Romeo looked at Thomas. “Get out and close the door behind you.”
He held up his hands, backing away. “Okay, I’m going.”
“Make it a bit faster.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Romeo?” Paul said.
“I’m gonna get out of here.”
“You’ve trapped yourself in here, there’s five officers out there, two in reception, two outside the front and more in the carpark.”
“Thanks for telling me where they all are…”
“You can’t get out of here. You’ll make things so much worse for yourself.”
“Tell me, Paul, how could I possibly make things worse for myself? I’m in a maximum-security prison for killing four people … four out of five.”
“I’ve—I’ve got a family.”
“And if you knew me at all … you’d know that means nothing to me.”
“Romeo—”
He tightened his hold, Paul struggled, clawing at his arm, then he stiffened, and went lax.
Not dead, but choked out. As much as the monster in him wanted to kill, he pushed the need aside, promising he’d rectify it later. Their priority was finding Chad.
Romeo dropped Paul’s heavy bulk in front of the door. If they wanted to get in, they were gonna have to smash the door into his back.
The scanner was the perfect height for a climbing frame. He jumped on to the gurney, then clambered on top. Romeo heard the first oomph of the door and watched as Paul jolted forward under the blow.
Romeo pushed on the panel of the ceiling, put everything into it until the rectangle lifted, then he slid it across.
The medical A-Z didn’t just have a section on concussions and strokes.
It had a section on the scanners, too.
They needed to be located in a quiet area of the hospital. They had a specially made shield floor, a specially made suspended ceiling, one that Romeo was about to escape through. They wouldn’t know which way he was going to crawl, it was thick, vibration softened, they’d have to guess which room he’d end up in.
The door smashed open just as he lifted himself through the hole in the ceiling. It creaked under his weight, but he only needed it to hold long enough for him to crawl to the next room.
A waiting room, he realized when he fell through the ceiling panel in front of a lot of stunned people.
He took off down the corridor, brushing the dust off his bright orange jumpsuit. He didn’t follow signs to the exit, that’s where they’d have expected him to go, instead he rushed down the corridors, up and down the stairs and along the walkways to get to the cancer ward.
He was getting looks, but most people backed away from him when they saw him running. Clearly a convict, and clearly a balloon for a face. He imagined he looked terrifying, no longer his handsome self, but looking more like the monster within.
There were shouts behind him, demands of him to stop, give himself up, but why? They didn’t give him a reason. What could they threaten him with?
The carpark was near enough deserted. He could see the sirens lighting up the sky, hear the commotion on the opposite side of the hospital. Romeo looked out across the unlit fields. They’d always been his escape when he’d killed his victims, and running across them filled him with comfort, a familiar feeling.
He was going home, not to the farm, but to Chad.
Romeo was going to save him.
He just needed to work out who had him first.
Chapter Sixteen
Romeo woke up with a gasp, taking in his surroundings. The stuffy air around him itched his nose and he muffled a sneeze in his jacket. The morning sun shone through the window, and for the briefest of seconds, he thought he was back in the farmhouse. He thought if he rolled onto his other side, Chad would be there next to him.
He wasn’t in the farmhouse, but a shed in someone’s back yard. He tried to recall how he’d gotten there, but it was a blur, and when he closed his eyes, he could still hear the sirens, his rasping breath as he ran, not for his life, but for Chad’s.
The roads had been off limits, police cars screeched up and down, sirens blaring, lighting up the sky a hazy blue. Romeo was forced to walk—in some cases crawl—in a ditch beside the road. He listened to the whirl of a helicopter, and every time it sounded a little too close for comfort, he lay down in the ditch, sinking into the mud, as cold as ice that early in the morning.
He knew he needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and the hospital. The greater the distance, the less police presence. He didn’t stop despite the nausea, or the throbbing in his face, He had to get far enough away using the darkness. When the sun rose, he knew it would be much harder to stay hidden.
He saw a house where the occupants were still asleep, curtains drawn, and no light escaping around them. Romeo headed towards the shed as quietly as he could, easing the door open before stepping inside, feeling his way around. There was a work bench, and a coat hanging on the back of a chair. Romeo slipped his arms into it, then zipped it up.
Then he remembered feeling dizzy, swaying on his feet, before easing himself to the floor. He’d closed his eyes, meaning to do it for only a minute or so, but from the ache in his neck and hip, he could tell he’d been lying on his side for longer than that.
The sun shone through the small window, and Romeo could finally see the placed he’d scrambled into in the dark. He opened the can of cola he found on the work bench, and swallowed it down in record time, before pocketing a roll of duct tape, and a screwdriver.
One of the last people that had seen Chad was his ex-fiancé Neil.
Neil, the man that betrayed Chad’s trust and sold secrets to the Canster Times. He’d featured enough in the papers and on the news that Romeo knew where he lived. Farlow, a small village twenty minutes out from Hatton. He lived on a luxury street of detached properties with swimming pools, almost Tudor-like houses in their appearance. Neil had stood outside his place with a pitiful expression claiming he and Chad were thinking of starting a family.
Romeo eased open the door to the shed, then kept low as he ducked behind the hedgerow. He headed back to the safety of the trees, sparse patches of them he needed to rush between when there was no traffic on the roads. The sound of sirens carried on the wind, and a police car whizzed past, Romeo held his breath, praying it didn’t turn around and come up behind him.
He lay in the ditch, staring up at the sky with his pulse jutting at his throat. He could hear the sound of cars, near constant on the stretch of road nearby. He couldn’t move, it was far too risky. Instead dizziness spun his head again, and he closed his eyes.
His mind went back to the farmhouse. His two months with Chad. He’d always wondered whether killing someone would wake up his emotions. He half-expected it after he strangled Asher Campbell. He closed his eyes, waited for the onslaught of negativity, but it hadn’t come. It cemented what he already knew. He was a monster incapable of love, or empathy. His first kill filled him with such triumph and relief, the equivalent of a footballer winning the league, or the tennis player the grand slam. The wait, the frustration, the sacrifice had all been worth it for that one moment, that one dose of pleasure in his brain.
The two months with Chad changed him, unlocked him, freed a part of him he hadn’t been able to free. He couldn’t recall the exact day it happened, it creeped up on him, started as manipulation, and fun, and ended as something real.
He thought back to the moment he realized, when he knew it was too late to be indifferent to Chad.
He hadn’t been at the farmhouse, Chad hadn’t been anywhere near him, Romeo had been shopping.
He’d looked down fondly at his basket, then froze when the realization hit him.
He was looking forward to cooking dinner for Chad.
Romeo’s gaze had skimmed over the contents of his basket.
He was looking forward to filling out the crossword with him. Looking forward to settling in front of the TV for a movie, and then getting into bed beside him. He was looking forward to having breakfast the next morning, and having Chad watch him as he cut logs for the fire.
He wanted to be around Chad. Wanted to spend time with him.
Not to manipulate, or mask his true self, but because he wanted to. He’d been himself with Chad, not shielded him from his monstrous side, and Chad seemed to enjoy his company.
Two for Joy Page 15
