Romeo wanted to make him laugh, and smile, and moan his name. It was a first. The only thing he’d wanted before that moment had been to kill, and his monster craving was still there, but alongside it he had new ones, domestic ones.
“Shit.” He dropped the basket in the aisle, startling the old woman next to him.
He liked Chad.
Romeo forced his eyes open and stared up at the sky. He winced at the sun blaring down at him, then rolled with a groan onto his side. His head pounded worse than ever, his cheek hurt, even his teeth ached.
Chad had made him realize there was more to him than the monster after all.
The thoughts of Chad hurt, sad, lonely, scared were near enough unbearable. The thought of Chad happy, laughing, triumphant, filled Romeo’s chest with a warmness, a glowing feeling that made him feel good. Chad had unlocked emotions in him that he thought he didn’t have, he’d never experience, and he needed to keep going, not only to keep Chad alive, but himself as well.
Neil’s house, he reminded himself.
He needed to get to Neil’s house.
Romeo managed to get to his feet, then began trudging along the ditch.
****
Exhaustion wearied Romeo’s limbs, and slowed his reactions. His face ached, to the point he dribbled, and didn’t realize until he touched his chin. He was tempted to curl up in the undergrowth and sleep off his headache, but feared if he tried, he’d never get up again.
He was walking until he found a layby, an unsuspecting person pulled over for a rest, then he was going to strike.
The sun started to fade, leaving an intense orange glow in the sky. He’d always been able to see the sun rise and set from the farmhouse, but hadn’t seen it do either in the prison. His one hour in the yard was always in the middle of the day with the sun right over him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he saw it setting, until he looked out on the horizon, with no walls to end the view, or mesh to distort it. He’d never thought he’d end up behind bars, always thought he’d outwit anyone, always one step ahead, but then Chad stepped into his life.
When Romeo got to the layby, no car had pulled in. He listened to them whizz by, praying someone would slow, park, let him strike, but no one answered his prayers.
He was left waiting, judging time by the moving sun, and the chill running up his spin. Romeo heard a chattering, a distinctive noise he’d recognize anywhere. He gritted his teeth, thought about ignoring it, but then he turned, and glared at the magpie in the trees, hopping branch to branch. It wasn’t alone, there was another one with it, two of them chattering to each other, giving him curious looks.
“Fuck off, blatant symbolism.” Romeo growled, clawing at the mud of the ditch to loosen a stone. He squeezed the stone in his hand, unable to launch it at the two magpies mocking him.
Mocking or encouraging, Romeo didn’t know. He dropped the stone and clutched his pounding head. He closed his eyes for what felt like a minute, but could’ve easily been an hour. The sky was darker, the magpies had gone, and still no one pulled into the layby.
His face felt bigger, and tighter than it should’ve done, but there was no way to soothe the ache. His stomach cramped and spasmed, and even though he was surrounded by water, it was the thirstiest he’d felt in his life.
As he stroked his damaged face he thought back to Chad, and the last time he’d seen him. Chad had told him he needed Romeo. The detective had gone completely, leaving behind a broken man, Romeo’s broken man. The one he was determined to put back together despite the jagged edges and missing parts. They fit together.
He dropped his hand from his face when he heard a car engine above, someone pulling into the layby. He waited, listening out for voices, trying to judge whether it was more than one person. The engine cut out, a door opened, then a man rushed behind the trees, closer to Romeo. He was no more than a meter away, and completely unaware a serial killer lurked in the ditch ahead. The man tugged the zipper of his pants open, then relieved himself against a tree with a blissful sigh.
Romeo climbed out of the ditch, the man’s eyes went wide with panic, and he tried to scramble away, but ended up tripping. Romeo rammed him into the dirt, straddling him to pin him down.
“Stay still or I’ll kill you.” Romeo warned.
“What do you want?”
“Your car. I need your car … now hands behind your back.”
“What?”
Romeo shoved his face into the dirt. “Hands at your back.”
The man obliged. His hands were trembling wildly as Romeo tied them together with duct tape. Romeo shuffled down his body, then wrapped his ankles, then knees together.
“Perfect.” Romeo said. “Where’s your keys?”
“R—right side pocket.”
Romeo patted his legs down, feeling the keys. He pulled them out, then grinned clutching them. “You’ve been a great help.” He said, before slapping a strip of duct tape over the man’s mouth.
He struggled, flailed, then Romeo sighed, and rolled him into the ditch with his foot.
****
Romeo was hoping Neil’s house would be the first one he came across, but a peek in the letterbox told him otherwise. Mr Daniel Smith. He got back in the stolen car and carried on up the road. He rolled down his window and heard yapping at the next house.
Neil hated dogs.
He put his foot down on the gas when he heard laughing in the next yard. They were having a party, the smell of the barbeque carried straight to Romeo’s nose and he whined. He needed food, he needed water, and he needed to get out of his soaked-in-mud clothes. He looked down at his sneakers, no longer pristine white like when he first escaped the hospital, but caked in mud.
Romeo pulled up next to one of the houses, parking on the grass verge. There was no letter box to check for a name, he was relying purely on his memory.
Dark beams, a double garage, he parked the car at the side of the road and went for a closer look. He peered through the bars, then gasped. In front of the garage was a Porsche, a Porsche with a glowing license plate.
Romeo laughed.
Chad’s ex liked glow-in the dark license plates. The Porsche was different, newer than the one he’d shoved Chad into, and a different color, but still Neil insisted on a glow in the dark plate.
He’d found the right house, but needed to get inside. The gate was taller, armed with a nasty set of spikes, but the walls it was attached to were less sinister. No barbed wire or spikes, Romeo just needed the help of the trees to get over them.
He landed as silently as he could, but the jolting movement sent pain crashing through his head, and into his cheek. Romeo fought off a tidal wave of nausea as he staggered towards the door. He hoped Neil was well stocked with painkillers.
The front door wasn’t locked, Romeo winced, expecting it to creak and announce his presence, but it didn’t. He stepped inside the house, leaving muddy footsteps in his wake. He could hear breaking glass, blaring guns, then some Hollywood-style one liner.
Neil was sitting in the living room with his back to Romeo. The lights were low, Romeo could smell coffee, and spied the cup on the table along with some expensive take-out box.
More guns, and a ridiculous knife throw. The Hollywood hero was shirtless for no obvious reason, covered in sweat, and ripped with muscles. Tall, dark and handsome, ticking all the boxes. He had the villain pinned out on a pool table. The villain with a scar down his face, missing teeth, messy hair.
Romeo rolled his eyes. “So cliché…”
Neil went from lounging in his chair, to sitting up stiff as a board. Romeo didn’t give him a chance to turn, he rushed up behind him, tightened his arm around Neil’s neck, and choked him until he passed out.
He laid Neil out on the floor, used the duct tape to bound his ankles and wrists, then stuck a strip across Neil’s face. He couldn’t ignore the pounding headache any longer, abandoned Neil on the floor, and went to search his kitchen for painkillers.
He found some in a basket in the cupboard, downing the white pills of relief with some water. His stomach gurgled, and he remembered it had been far too long since he’d eaten anything.
He wrinkled his nose, then grimaced at the smell of his clothing—stagnant water and mud. Before he could eat, he had to change. Romeo flashed a look at Neil, unconscious on the floor, and reasoned even if he woke, he wouldn’t be able to wriggle to freedom, then headed upstairs.
Neil had a taste for the finer things in life. His walk-in closet was the same size as Romeo’s cell. He ran his hand along all the shirts and pants kept in clear plastic bags. He picked one, threw it down on Neil’s bed, then unzipped the coat he’d borrowed from the shed. He climbed out of his stinking jumpsuit and flung it on Neil’s crisp white sheets. Neil’s clothes were tight, but made of a pleasant material, soft and cool against Romeo’s skin. He found shoes in the closet, a size too small, but dry, and free of mud.
When he stepped into Neil’s bathroom, he froze, then approached the mirror with caution. He didn’t look like himself, covered in filth, half his face double the size it should’ve been and shiny with tightness. He looked like a boxer after he’d gone twelve rounds in the ring, then snorted.
If Justin hadn’t had lost his temper and got banged up, he might have made it pro.
Romeo thought of his mugshot, no doubt on every news channel, and doing the rounds on social media. The police would say he was last seen in an orange jumpsuit, not the stylish and very expensive suit he’d borrowed from Neil. The public would be looking for a handsome man dressed in orange, not an ugly one in a suit.
Romeo washed his face, and hair in the sink, then patted himself dry. He couldn’t do anything about his cheek, he only hoped that eventually it would stop hurting, or he’d become accustomed to the pain.
****
Neil’s fridge was full of odd healthy take-out foods that smelled as if they were turning bad, but Romeo couldn’t be picky, he had to make his visit to Neil’s a fleeting one.
Neil started to stir, his eyes fluttered, he looked around, worked out where he was, and who he was with, then started to wriggle, shouting beneath the tape over his mouth. Romeo ignored him, microwaved his plate of food, then headed towards the sofa when it was done. He had a glass of wine in his other hand, ready to wash the odd-looking food down.
“Hope you don’t mind.”
He sat down on the sofa, putting his glass on the side table. Neil stopped fidgeting, and instead twitched his eyebrows, muffling something under the tape. Something soft, something tragic. Romeo suspected he was begging and tucked into his food while he watched.
It hurt to eat with his swollen cheek invading his mouth, but he managed it, chewing gently, and swallowing small mouthfuls. It was slow going, but his stomach appreciated it.
“I’ve been out almost twenty-four hours, but this is the first moment I’ve had to be still, to take stock.” He rested his feet on Neil. “To relax.”
Neil looked up at him with wide eyes, his chin was wobbling, and he was puffing air out through his nostrils.
“I’m gonna sit here, let my food go down, and have a nice glass of wine. If you behave, I might not kill you … understand?”
Neil nodded, then lay completely silent on the floor. Romeo smiled at him, then finished the rest of his meal. He took a big gulp of wine, then clutched his cheek.
“Did you hear that I’d escaped?”
Neil nodded.
“I’m not looking my best, probably a bit different to my mugshot, a punch to the face will do that to you.”
The skin was hot, and tight under his fingertips. His face felt heavy, like someone had stuck something to it.
“You know, Chad punched me once. I thought it was pretty hard, busted my lip, but it was a kitten swipe compared to this…”
He left his cheek alone, and waited for the painkillers to kick in.
“I’m gonna take that strip off your mouth, if you scream, I’ll have to hurt you. Understand?”
Neil nodded.
Romeo crouched down, ripped the tape off Neil’s mouth, then sat back on the sofa. Neil cursed, then licked his sore lips. Romeo kept a foot on Neil to keep him still.
He pointed at the movie he’d paused on the villain’s sneering face. “Chad’s not fond of action films, and he hates detective thrillers, he’s more of a sci-fi kinda guy.”
Neil didn’t say anything, he just stared up at Romeo, eyebrows twitching, bleeding lip shaking.
“He likes that one, what’s it called … Aliens Attack. You seen it?”
Neil shook his head.
“And he likes quiz shows, and crosswords, and this kids’ cartoon, I dunno what it’s called, but all the food has eyes, and it talks, odd program, don’t know why he likes it, but he does. Oh, and he likes paella, but without the prawns, and he likes ice cream, and Malibu with cola and ice, with a little umbrella in the top.”
Neil blinked up at him, looking more and more unsettled. Romeo pursed his lips. “Any of that ringing a bell? No? Okay, how about you tell me something Chad likes.”
“Don’t—don’t kill me.”
“Don’t be so boring, answer my question.”
“Chad liked this house.”
Romeo looked around the room. “It is impressive if you’re into that…”
“He liked the gifts, the holidays, the take-out.”
“Come on, Neil, try harder than that. Give me something he really loved because it certainly wasn’t you.”
He frowned. “His dog, Toby.”
“Yes,” Romeo laughed. “Gold star to you. He loved Toby. The only thing Chad’s ever loved, until me of course…”
“He doesn’t love you.”
Romeo grimaced. “He kinda does…”
“What do you want?”
“You were the last person to see Chad.”
“He came to me for help.”
“Yeah, and you ratted him out to the police.”
“They were looking for him—”
“So you just gave him up, no fight…”
“What do you want?”
“Someone has him. They’re going to do horrible things to him, I need to find him before they do, understand?”
Neil didn’t say anything. Romeo nudged him with his foot. “I said, understand?”
“I understand.”
“Then talk me through when he came asking for help.”
Neil licked his lips. “He was agitated, stressed. He said he needed a place to stay while he sorted his head out. I said no, the police were looking for him. But he said I owed him for leaking the countdown killer to the press.”
“And exploiting his apparent death, let’s not forget that. Then what happened?”
“The police came around once looking for him, but he hid in the attic. They said he was dangerous.”
“Chad dangerous? No, I’m dangerous. This is what a dangerous man looks like, this is what a dangerous man does.” He said, gesturing to Neil bound on the floor.
“The news said he was the next countdown killer, and I panicked, phoned the police. They waited here for him, but he didn’t come back.”
“Come back? Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
Romeo stiffened. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to live.”
“But I don’t know where he went. He was trying to work out who was behind the murders. I said he should turn himself in, they’d help him, but he didn’t listen, he just kept on talking about the case, the details, the crime scenes.”
“You’d think he would’ve learned not to trust you with information.”
“He always talked about the cases when we were together, said it gave him another perspective when I listened, when he was away from the station.”
“Then you betrayed his trust.”
“I think—I think he suspected someone.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t tell me, but he was rambling, th
en suddenly stopped, and looked at me.”
“Looked at you?”
“Yeah, like a long hard look.”
Romeo huffed. “Do you actually want me to kill you Neil?”
“I don’t know, okay? Like a look, a realization, then he got up, told me he’d be back later and left.”
“Typical Chad,” Romeo growled. “He went off to confront a serial killer on his own … again.”
Romeo downed the rest of his wine, then got to his feet. “If I had more time, and more energy, I’d probably kill you, not because I enjoy killing, and I do— but because you deserve it for selling out Chad like you did.”
“I—I regret what I did. I’m not in that place anymore. I’ve got a new job now, I just needed something to tide me over.”
“Tide you over?”
“Yeah. I only did it because I needed the money to make him happy.”
“No” Romeo said, walking closer, until his shoe rested against Neil’s face. “Not to make him happy, that’s your excuse. All of this is for you, not him. Isn’t that right?”
“Y—yes.”
Romeo hummed, pressing his foot down on Neil harder until he grunted. “You needed the money, so you betrayed your fiancé, the man you claimed to love.”
“I did love him—I do love him.”
“No, you didn’t, no you don’t.”
“What the hell do you know about it?”
Romeo leaned over, getting close to Neil’s face, close enough to see his fear with his functioning eye.
“I don’t know much, if anything, about love. It’s alien to me. If I’m honest, a little unsettling, but what I do know is if you loved Chad, you would’ve been out there looking for him. You would’ve done everything in your power, gone through every obstacle to find him.”
Neil closed his eyes.
“But you didn’t. You went to the Canster Times and had articles written about him. You cashed in, not knowing if he was dead or alive.”
“He’d broke up with me.”
“That how you justify it?”
Neil didn’t answer.
“And at his lowest, when he needed help, he went to you, and you sold him out again, but this time to the police.”
Two for Joy Page 16
