He looked over when the killer said his name, and they linked gazes.
“Call me Romeo.”
****
Chad managed to heave himself onto his knees. The effort tugged sharply at his stomach muscles. They spasmed, and he leaned over to vomit on the floor. He scuffled away from the mess he’d made and tried to block out the smell of sick merging with damp, and rotten hay. The chain was three meters long at the most, attached to the ground by a thick steel hoop set in concrete. Chad dragged himself closer, then collapsed on the cool square of concrete. The rest of the floor was made of wooden boards, well rotten, and crawling with insects. The whole place made him shudder, and adrenaline rushed through his body, demanding he escape, get out of the hellhole, but he knew he couldn’t.
The mini cooper was out of reach, the escape right there, taunting him. He tore his gaze away and thought what to do.
Romeo had taken his phone, car keys, and wallet.
He was trapped in some derelict farm building, and he had no idea where he was. He listened, trying to pick out a distinctive sound, a road in the distance perhaps, but all he heard was the wind whistling through the hole in the roof, and the songbirds outside.
He had to get out of there. He had to catch the killer. Chad yanked at the chain, he even tried to snap it in two like some kind of superhero, but he did nothing but wear himself out, and feed fuel to his rising panic. It was hard working with his hands behind him, and he soon gave up on his idea to break the chain. His heart rate accelerated. The positions of his arms made it hard to breathe, and there was an overwhelming sensation the walls of the barn were closing in on him, squishing, and squeezing him like the trunk of the car.
Chad closed his eyes, took time to breathe, to slow his heart rate down so he could arrange his thoughts. Panicking wasn’t going to help him. He couldn’t escape, but Romeo had said he would be coming back. Romeo was going to keep him alive.
Chad bum shuffled back onto the wooden slates and started dragging his nails over the boards. They split with ease. He winced at each splinter that sank into his flesh, but kept going, kept searching, digging his fingers in, and pulling until he was rewarded with a huge splinter of wood. It felt about twenty centimeters long in his hand, thick, and pointed.
He shifted back to the square of concrete, splinter clutched in his hand, and waited for the doors of the barn to reopen. Plan B: He was gonna shove the splinter into Romeo’s neck, steal his phone, and call for help.
Chapter Ten
Chad clocked the sun changing position in the sky. He saw the birds fly over the roof, even an airplane. The light faded, the birds went quiet, and the temperature started to drop.
Chad released the splinter. It was close, but he couldn’t clutch it any longer. A new ache grew fierce, and all consuming. The need to pee. He squirmed, shuffled, bit his lip until he tasted fresh blood.
None of it worked.
It was all he could think about, and time seemed to slow even further. Darkness came quickly, Chad could see the stars through the hole in the roof, twinkling about him. He was shivering. He was cold, pimples had risen all over his body, and he was quivering erratically. The need to pee didn’t fade, and the cold made it worse.
He lay down on his back, not caring about the bug infested boards, or the smell. He didn’t think it would be possible to feel tired, needing a piss so bad his bladder was close to exploding, and shivering nonstop, but for some reason, his eyelids started to droop. His body started to relax, and just as he was about to slip away, he felt it.
The gush of warmth in his groin, trickling by his thigh. He couldn’t stop it, hating that the little bit of warmth was almost welcomed by his ice-cold body. Then reality hit him, and he realized what he’d just done.
He’d pissed himself.
It added to the aroma of helplessness. The patch of warmth quickly turned cold and irritated his skin. The need to sleep didn’t come back. Chad stayed on his side, staring up at the sky. He was too cold to heat up in embarrassment, too cold for the shame and humiliation to properly soak in. He knew it would come, in the morning, after the sun rose, and he could hear birds again. Then he’d be battered by his own self-loathing emotions.
****
The barn doors creaked open. Chad blinked out of his trance-like staring. It was early morning; he could tell by the fresh blast of air that came from the direction of the doors. He was so cold he couldn’t move. He was surprised he could still shiver.
Romeo hovered over him, then kicked his ankle. “You there?”
Chad tried to speak, but his lips were ice, and his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth.
Romeo smirked, then crouched down. He helped Chad into a sitting position, then gestured to the huge splinter nearby.
“Careful, you could hurt someone with that.”
There was a twinkle in his eye. He knew exactly what Chad had intended to do with the pointed piece of wood. Romeo kicked it out of reach.
“Could you’ve done it though?” he asked.
Chad frowned, but even that felt like a great effort, and he soon stopped.
“Could you really have sunk that into my heart, or through my throat? And even then, what would you do afterwards? I have no phone on me. No one knows where you are, and you can’t escape. You’d end up dying, too.”
“At least you wouldn’t be able to kill anyone else,” Chad forced out.
Romeo hummed, then looked Chad up and down. “Looks like someone had a little accident in the night.”
He wrinkled his nose, pulling an expression of disgust. Chad folded in on himself, trying to turn his body away, but Romeo shoved him hard in the shoulder until he toppled on to his back, crushing his cuffed hands.
Romeo flipped open the catch on Chad’s pants, took down the zipper, then yanked them and his boxers off. Chad was too sluggish to realize what was happening until it was too late. Romeo had exposed him, and he felt ten times more vulnerable with his ass and cock in view.
“I guess it is cold.”
“Fuck you.”
Romeo laughed. “Stupid thing to say when I just stripped you so easily.”
“Give me back my clothes.”
Romeo lifted them. “You want your urine-soaked clothes back?”
Heat burned in Chad’s cheeks, but he still managed a mumbled, “Yes, I do.”
“Well tough.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“The killing, or the humiliating you? If you mean humiliating you, that’s because you’ve messed up my plan. It was going so well. Kill every two months, working down from number five. Strangle each one, very little resistance. No one suspected, no one knew, and then you turn up. Sorry, but I’m still pretty annoyed about it.”
“Get over it.”
Romeo laughed. “Seeing you like this is definitely helping me get over it…”
Chad twisted his hips, turning his legs to hide his cock from Romeo’s eyes, but turning only exposed his ass, and Romeo looked at it instead.
“You do have a nice ass,” Romeo said. “I’ll give you that.”
“Why do you kill?”
Romeo’s gaze locked on Chad’s. “That’s a broad question. What do other killers usually say?”
Chad bit his lip. “Out of anger, jealousy, accidentally.”
“Well we can rule out accidental. And I’m not jealous of the people I’ve killed, and I’m not an angry person, apart from when annoying detectives make things more complicated.”
“Then why?”
“Why do people drink alcohol? Take drugs? Gamble—”
“You’re saying you’re addicted?”
“No.” Romeo laughed. “People do those things, because they enjoy it. Fundamentally, that’s why people start. Of course they end up getting addicted, alcoholics, druggies, gambling debts up to their eyeballs… If they put a limit on it from the first time, and stuck to it, then they would’ve been fine.”
“You’re counting down from
five.”
“Exactly, counting down, and once I get to one, the game’s over. That need is gone. I’ve got my fix, and it’s time to move on.”
“You’re killing innocent people.”
“It’s not a concern to me whether they’re innocent or not. I don’t know what they do, the kind of people there are, who they associate with. All I know about them is they help me with my countdown. I cherish them. They are special to me, a part of my plan, my attempt at freedom.”
Chad turned away. “You’re disgusting.”
“I remember the look in their eye when they leave this world. I thank them for the feeling that they give me. I’m always in their debt, always grateful.”
“I can’t listen to this.” Chad shook his head, still refusing to look at Romeo. “You’re so … wrong.”
“I completely agree with you. I’m wrong. So very wrong, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I am what I am. I can’t tell you why I kill, I don’t even know that myself, but I can tell you the power of it, the surge of it, it’s so intense, so all consuming. You feel like—like the reaper, a dark force, a presence so great no one can escape you.”
“You really think if it feels that good, you can stop at five?”
“Yes, because I’ve wanted to do it for as long as I remember, kept it at bay. And now I’ve given into the need, I’ve put a limitation on it. I’m keeping myself in check. There’s rules. I’m very responsible, don’t you think?”
Chad ignored him. “Why in their houses, in their beds?”
“You’re most comfortable in your own home, and your happiest times are probably spent in the bedroom, either asleep or having sex… The environment’s nicer, it’s a mercy. I didn’t want them to be scared when it happened. I’m not doing this because I like their fear, or terror. I do it for the release I feel. They looked peaceful when you found them right?”
Chad grimaced. “Why use their possessions, leave your DNA?”
Romeo shrugged. “I’m on a bit of a power trip afterwards, confident … like I told you, I feel invincible. I’m all over the house, and still no one knows who I am. Adds to the excitement. And it’s not like they’ll be eating from the fridge, using their showers, watching their TVs again.”
“What did you use with number two?”
“Her phone. I called the police and didn’t say anything, left it connected.”
Chad looked at him, and he grinned toothily. His expression soured when Chad narrowed his eyes.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked.
Chad shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Why did you come after me alone that night?”
“I got the call about you first.”
“And you rushed over without back up?”
“I called for it on the way.”
Romeo tilted his head, studying Chad intently. “Still, that’s a bit reckless, isn’t it? Going it alone.”
“I was told to wait.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I saw you leave.”
Romeo nodded. “Then you came after me, no baton, no mace, just those cuffs your wrists are now locked in. Not the actions of a sane mind…”
Chad didn’t reply.
“I think I’m gonna enjoy getting to know you over the next two months Now…” he said, getting to his feet. “I promised you food, water … and a bucket for next time.”
He looked pointedly at Chad’s bare legs, then walked away. He slipped out of a gap in the barn doors and returned a few minutes later.
Romeo presented the bucket to Chad, and he peered inside. There was a sandwich, not scraps, and it smelled so good saliva flooded his mouth. Beside the sandwich was a bottle of water, and Chad didn’t know which he preferred, quenching his thirst or satisfying his hunger.
Romeo took the bottle out, unscrewed the cap, then hovered the bottle close to Chad’s mouth. Chad refused, turning his head.
“Fine.”
Romeo dropped the bottle, and the contents started chugging onto the floor. Chad had lost all dignity anyway, and threw himself down, getting his mouth near the bottle and drinking what he could. He managed a few sips, but then it was gone, seeping into the wood.
“You would’ve had more if you’d let me give it to you.”
“No way.” Chad looked down at the food. “Undo the cuffs, let me eat.”
“Not gonna happen. Either I feed it to you, or it stays there.”
Chad kicked the bucket away, knocking it over. “I won’t eat then.”
“You will in the end,” Romeo said. He backed away, pausing before the door. He took off his jacket, then threw it towards Chad. “It’s gonna be cold again tonight… I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Wait!”
Romeo closed the barn doors, and Chad listened for his footsteps, for the sound of a car, but all he could hear from outside the barn were the chirping birds.
****
He refused to eat the sandwich off the floor, no matter how badly his gut whined. He lay on his side until his hip ached, then rolled on to his opposite side.
He wondered whether his colleagues knew he’d been taken yet. They would’ve found Audrey’s body; the road would’ve been cordoned off for officers to sweep the area. Chad could almost picture it in his mind. The police cars lined up outside the cottage.
The chief scratching his bird-nest head. Vito photographing the body. The house phone and whatever else Romeo used being bagged up for evidence.
They would’ve wondered where he was, tracked his phone to wherever Romeo had dumped it. Maybe it was with the Porsche? It would have both their DNA on it, along with the bloodied rock they needed to find by the trees. Gareth, Kate, and Martin would be looking for him. Not only the stress of the killer getting his fourth victim, number two in his countdown, but the worry of their colleague—friend—going missing. He imagined Kate’s watering eyes, Gareth’s concerned frown, and Martin obsessively picking his lip like he did when he was worried.
He didn’t deserve their worry. He was the idiot that confronted a killer on his own, the hot-headed detective who didn’t realize his fiancé was selling him out.
Chad lifted his head, then dropped it down on the concrete. Cold, vulnerable, it was too easy to let his mind drop into a downward spiral. He needed to keep his head, work out a way to escape from his captor.
The day seemed never ending. He ignored the sandwich but staggered to his feet to use the bucket to relieve himself. The cuffs felt tighter, but he couldn’t turn his head to see why. His fingers flared with a sharp pain each time they touched the floor. Smalls cuts, or slices he’d received from the rotting floorboards. Every muscle in his body started to cramp when he stayed in one position for too long, and the only place that didn’t hurt was his head. He’d been smacked with a rock, and could feel the weight of the swelling. It pressed his eyebrow down into his line of vision, but it didn’t actually hurt.
Darkness came, the birds fell silent, and the cold seeped into Chad’s bones again. He reached his leg out for the jacket, managing to slot his foot into the arm, then pulled it across the ground towards him. Chad rearranged himself, got his knees on the ground then leaned forward as much as he could. He bit the jacket, pulled it off the floor, then collapsed on his throbbing hip. It covered his bare legs and brought a whiff of expensive aftershave his way. It was a scent that pulled him out of his dire moment, just for a second, and then he laughed at how ridiculous he was being.
Romeo’s aftershave shouldn’t have been a pleasurable scent at all. He was a monster wearing the scent of a gentleman.
Chapter Eleven
Chad was already sitting up when Romeo came back. It still surprised him how attractive he looked. In the hours between seeing him, a hideous man stepped into Chad’s mind when he thought about Romeo and what he’d done, but when he walked into the barn, Chad saw his big frame, sharp jaw, neatened stubble, and swept back hair. Chad had only seen green eyes like Romeo’s in kids’ films, bright, wi
de, nice to look at, but they weren’t on a cute character; they were on someone twisted. He swung a plastic bag in his hand while Chad took him in, then smiled, as if he knew exactly what had been going through Chad’s mind.
He looked down at the jacket over Chad’s legs. “I’m glad I kept you warm in the night…”
Chad shivered, pulling his knees, and inadvertently the jacket, up to his chest. “Hardly.”
It still smelled nice compared to everything else in the barn, and Chad hated it for it. He frowned when he saw the dried blood on Romeo’s shirt. He looked down, noticed what Chad had, then smirked.
“It’s yours…”
“From two days ago? You’re wearing the same shirt.”
“Looks that way.”
Chad dragged his gaze from Romeo’s chest, but continued to frown. Romeo hadn’t changed in two days—
“Stay sitting like that,” Romeo said firmly.
He circled behind Chad, then dropped to his knees behind him. He put the plastic bag he’d been holding on the floor and reached for Chad’s hands. For one hopeful second, Chad thought he was removing the cuffs, but a sharp, stinging pain brought him back to reality.
“Ouch!”
“Stay still.”
Chad tried to see what was happening to his hands, but he couldn’t, and soon gave up.
“Good boy. You could just ask what I’m doing…”
“What are you doing?” Chad mumbled.
“I’ve got tweezers, and I’m sorting out your hands.”
Cad bit his lip instead of crying out for the second time. His hands were sore, and the pain intensified when Romeo dug around for the end of the splinter. He worked efficiently, and silently. At first, Chad hissed as each were removed, but he soon got used to the sharp stings until they felt nothing more than small nips on his fingertips. He stopped flinching and found himself enjoying the painful grains of wood being extracted from his hands.
“Wouldn’t be so many if you weren’t so determined to stake my heart out.”
One for Sorrow Page 8
