One for Sorrow

by Louise Collins

  “Feel good?”

  He didn’t answer, just turned his attention back to the fire. It took him a long time to realize his hands were no longer cuffed at his back. They were free under a huge blanket. Not only that, but Romeo had removed his shirt, and jacket, even his socks. He was completely naked.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “In the washing machine, with mine…”

  Chad hadn’t even noticed Romeo was no longer wearing his suit.

  “Can—can I have some clothes?” he asked the fire.

  Romeo hummed. “Maybe later if you’re good.”

  Chad lifted his hands above the blanket to see the damage. They were badly bruised and covered in scabs from the splinters. Romeo had wrapped bandages around his wrists where the skin must’ve split.

  “Where are we?”

  “In the house, about a hundred yards from the barn.”

  “You were close the whole time?”

  “Yeah, is that reassuring?”

  “No.”

  “When I went in the barn, I thought you might be faking,” Romeo said. “I thought you were being clever, using the temperature to your advantage, but one slap to that pretty face of yours, and I knew you weren’t.” He turned away with a deep frown marring his features. “I can’t be so careless with you. I could’ve ruined everything.”

  “You’re the farmer.” Chad said again.

  Romeo rolled him over, forcing Chad to end his staring contest with the fire. His eyes were watering and hot. He wasn’t crying upset tears, but boiling ones. Romeo caught one with his thumb and brushed it away.

  “As I said before, you get half a point.”

  “Half a point, why only half a point?”

  “I live in the farmhouse, on a farm, have plenty of land, even ride around on a tractor sometimes, but I don’t farm anything.”

  “This farmhouse was empty for years.”

  Romeo nodded. “Some distant relative of the old farmer sold it to me. He couldn’t wait to get rid of it, didn’t even want any of the possessions. I moved in, and everything was already here. When I tell people where I live, they call me ‘the farmer’ anyway.”

  “You dress like a farmer,” Chad said.

  Romeo looked down at himself. No longer in his suit, but a tight white t-shirt, and cotton pants. “I’m used to wearing different faces. Sometimes I dress casually, sometimes like a businessman. And maybe even sometimes I dress like a homeless man.”

  Chad frowned, looking into Romeo’s green eyes. The more he looked, the wider Romeo grinned, until something clicked.

  “You were at the hospital. The homeless man stalking the corridor.”

  “It’s always eye-opening how you get treated, most of the time you’re invisible.”

  “Why—why were you there?”

  “I wanted to make sure your DI hadn’t croaked it, had to see him for myself. The papers would’ve said he was one of my victims, and that would’ve irritated me, messed up my plan.”

  “Who cares what the papers say?”

  “Everyone cares,” Romeo said, then gestured to the walls. Chad had assumed the walls were covered in a bland wallpaper, but when he looked closer, he could see the newspapers, every front page of the Canster since the news of the killer hit the press. All the leaked information Neil had gotten from him, and he’d given to Marc Wilson.

  “The killer brands his victims with a hot iron, so hard the bones beneath are stained by the impending countdown,” Romeo read from the wall, then snorted, shaking his head. “I use a cigar, and I don’t press hard enough to mark bones, just enough to singe the skin into a neat number. The journalist should get his facts checked.”

  “They don’t care about facts. It’s all about using the most horrendous descriptions and words possible to sell papers.”

  “You don’t think what I do is horrendous enough?”

  “Of course I do,” Chad yelled, then dropped his head back to the floor. No longer the wooden slats of the barn, but something soft, and furry. A rug.

  “I think Marc Wilson from The Canster Times is a bit of a fan. I’m making him lots of money after all.”

  Chad narrowed his eyes. “Or maybe he’s just sick like you.”

  “Maybe.”

  They both fell silent, Chad staring up at the ceiling, and Romeo looking down on him. Then Chad shifted his gaze to Romeo.

  “Why did you paint the barn?”

  “Clever detective.” Romeo grinned. “It gave me a thrill going into that station to complain. The killer they were after so badly, right there, but they never knew…”

  “What did you paint?”

  “A monster.”

  Chad released a bitter laugh. “A monster?”

  “Yep, if you’re lucky I’ll show you later.”

  “I think I’ve already seen a monster, thanks.”

  Romeo laughed.

  “Zac said it was really good.”

  “The officer on the front desk? I remember he tried to hide his reaction when I showed him, but he failed. His eyes lit up.”

  “Who taught you to paint?”

  Romeo shrugged. “Natural talent.”

  Chad rolled his eyes. “Right.”

  “But my dad encouraged me, made me turn raw talent into artistic beauty.”

  “Did you specialize in monsters?”

  Romeo barked a laugh, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “No, that one on the barn’s a first. I used to paint landscapes, flowers. Things that made my mum’s eyes well with tears, and my dad puff up with pride. He used to buy me the most expensive canvases, paints, brushes. He told me I had his artistic flair. It made him happy to think I’d gotten that from him.”

  “Sounds like you had good parents.”

  “I did. You ready to tell me about yours?”

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  Romeo pulled an amused expression. “And yet, that tells me everything.”

  “Shut up.”

  “The painting is another way genetics screwed me over. I can create beauty for others to marvel at but feel nothing when I look at it myself.”

  “What do you feel when you look at that monster?”

  “It’s like looking into a mirror.” Romeo grinned.

  “And that makes you happy?”

  Romeo’s smile faltered, then dropped. “It’s seeing the truth after hiding from it for so long. I guess it’s a relief more than anything.”

  Chad struggled into the sitting position. He thought Romeo would stiffen, would force him down, or tense in anticipation, but he did nothing. He only watched as Chad groaned and hissed over his sore body.

  “Can I have some water?”

  Romeo nodded. “There’s a glass on the table.”

  Chad looked at the small coffee table, and the drink sitting on top. “Is there anything in it?”

  “Yeah … water.” Romeo laughed.

  “I meant—never mind.”

  “I’ve not drugged it if that’s what you mean.”

  He crawled over to the table, reached for the glass with a trembling hand, then collapsed back on his ass as he drank it.

  “You behave, and I’ll let you stay in the house. Misbehave, and you’re back to the barn.”

  Chad didn’t reply.

  “I am stronger than you, faster. There are no phones in this house, and we’re a long, long way from any other houses, or roads.”

  “How far away?”

  “Three miles each side.”

  Chad nodded. He could run three miles, even better if he could steal the car in the barn and drive them.

  “I’m not gonna kill you. I’m not even gonna hurt you, and all I ask is you behave. You don’t try and escape, and you don’t try to stop me.”

  “Stop you?”

  “My plan. Getting my number one. You try to stop me, and I’ll chain you up in the barn again. You try to stop me, and I might have to hurt you, understand?”

  “Yes.”

 
“Good. No longer killer and detective, but Romeo and Chad.”

  Just how Romeo claimed he couldn’t change his biology, neither could Chad. He was a detective, and he caught killers before they could kill again. He would do all he could to make sure Romeo didn’t get his number one.

  ****

  “Can I use the bathroom?”

  Romeo looked at Chad seriously for a few moments, then stood up. “Hands out in front of you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m putting the cuffs back on.”

  “But—”

  “Do you want to use the bathroom or what?”

  “Fine,” Chad mumbled, holding them out in front of him. He thought about fighting, swinging his hands up to meet Romeo’s face, but he could barely stand, let alone launch his escape attempt.

  Romeo snapped the cuffs onto Romeo’s wrists, then pulled him through the house. Chad caught a glimpse of the kitchen. Plenty of weapons in there, his mind supplied. Romeo tugged him up the stairs. There were three closed doors, and Romeo opened one on a small bathroom. He yanked Chad inside, then let go of his cuffed hands.

  “Do your business…”

  He’d not felt embarrassed about his nakedness until he wanted to do something private. He shuffled foot to foot, desperate for a piss, but uncomfortable with Romeo still in the room. He tried to convince himself it was no different from going for a piss in a public toilet, but he could feel Romeo’s eyes on him, watching.

  “You’re—you’re gonna stand there?”

  “Yeah,” Romeo said, leaning his back against the closed door.

  Chad turned his back on Romeo and did what he needed to do. Romeo didn’t comment, which made the moment worse. The only sounds came from Chad, him pissing, him flushing, then him washing his hands. He spotted the razor by the sink, thought about taking it, spinning round and slashing Romeo across the face, but then his mind didn’t supply him with what to do after.

  “Back downstairs,” Romeo said.

  “Wait.”

  He shot a longing glance at the shower, then slowly turned to Romeo.

  “Can I have a shower?”

  “If you say please.”

  Chad flexed his face, then said through his teeth, “Please, can I have a shower?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  Romeo opened the glass door, then bowed as Chad stepped inside. The cold spray made Chad hiss, but the water soon warmed, and his hiss morphed into a happy gasp. He was relieved when the glass steamed up, finally a veil between Romeo’s eyes, and his naked body. Chad tried to block his presence out and focus on how good it felt to be under the spray, how much his muscles rejoiced, and his aching flesh felt soothed. Each cut and slice stung, but those small pains were muffled by the pleasure of having his muscles taken care of.

  “I can wash your hair if you’d like.”

  Romeo’s voice made him tense, and his muscles clenched in painful protest.

  “I can do it myself,” Chad said, grabbing the bottle on the shower shelf.

  He soaped himself up, and the smell lifted the last remnants of the barn. Another blissed sigh left him, and he scrubbed as much of his body clean with his hands cuffed together. The scent pulled him away from the farmhouse, the barn, and he was somewhere else. Somewhere fresh, and clean. Chad had never smelled something so good in all his life.

  The glass door opened, Romeo reached inside, switching the shower off. “Enough now.”

  Chad sagged in disappointment, then stepped out the shower. A towel was dropped over his shoulders, and Romeo came up behind him, pressing his front to Chad’s back.

  His lips found Chad’s ear, and he rested them close before whispering, “I like you smelling of me.”

  Chad hadn’t even realized he was washing himself with Romeo’s scent, too relieved to finally be clean and fresh, but as soon as Romeo said the words, Chad’s nostrils pulsed, and he drew more of his masculine scent into his body.

  Their eyes linked in the mirror above the sink. Then Romeo smiled, one that lifted his cheeks slowly, and ended with him showing his teeth.

  The toothy smile that reminded Chad of a wolf.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Romeo cuffed Chad to the radiator in the kitchen while he made them something to eat. He was no longer naked, as Romeo had given him a pair of loose pants and a jumper to wear. He smelled more like Romeo than himself.

  Chad could see the morning sun rising out of the window, and the clock on the dresser told him it was 7 AM.

  “Here,” Romeo said, passing him a plate.

  Chad took it, then sank down to the floor. He put the plate down, then picked up the sandwich. His mouth flooded with saliva at the first taste, and by the time he finished it, he swore it was the best sandwich he’d ever had. He hadn’t even asked what was in it. His body just craved food like crazy, and registered its taste as heaven on a plate.

  Romeo took longer eating, and the whole time he watched Chad. When he finished, he collected Chad’s plate, put them both in the sink, washed his hands, then stared out across the fields.

  “How did you do it?”

  “Two slices of bread, butter, ham, lettuce, pickle, a dash of—”

  “No. I meant … how do you convince your victims to take you home?”

  “I thought we were gonna drop the detective and serial killer perspectives.”

  “I never promised that.”

  Romeo sighed. “If I tell you, will you stop asking?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it helps that I’m attractive.”

  Chad snorted and looked away.

  “What? It’s true, I’m not being arrogant. I have an attractive face, an attractive body, a nice voice. I smell good, too.”

  “Big headed much…”

  “I’ve never had trouble getting men, women. They wanted to sleep with a man that looks like me. I’m sure if you were honest with yourself, you’d admit you find me attractive, too.”

  Chad tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t budge. “No, I don’t.”

  “You pout when you lie…”

  “I can see the monster.”

  “Only because you now know it’s there. If we met under different circumstances, I showed you a bit of interest, you’d be following my shadow.”

  Chad ignored the build-up of heat in his cheeks.

  “It’s okay, no need to be embarrassed. I’m only stating the truth. I look good, dress well. I think people trust good-looking, smartly dressed people, but it’s stupid really. They’re the most likely to con you… Even with you warning not to pick up strangers along that road, people still did.”

  “So they stopped in the road, offered you a ride to their houses because of your clothes, and face?”

  “That, and it helped when I appealed to their charitable side. When they could be the hero of my night of terror.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’d loosen my tie, untuck my shirt, look all frightened, and say I was on my way home, and my cabby turned on me. He pulled a knife, stole my phone, and my wallet, then told me to get out.”

  “You’re where the rumors come from?”

  “I’d mix it up. Sometimes it was Cornell’s, sometimes it was Puma, and I’d say how I was so embarrassed about it. Big guy like me, I should be able to handle it, right. I didn’t want to make a fuss, but of course, sometimes people called the police to report it on my behalf.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’d ask where they lived, and when they’d tell me, I’d say I lived close, I could call someone to pick me up from their address, and off we went to their home. My little tale of terror made them forget about the warnings on the news. They were my hero in that moment, and it goes to people’s heads.”

  “You targeted four people that way, staked them out, knew where they’d be, what they were doing, knew their routes home?”

  Romeo spun around. An unsettling frown ruined his handsome face. He crouched down on the floor, getting clo
ser to Chad.

  “You think I stake my victims out? You think I watch them from a distance first?”

  “Yeah—”

  “No, no, Chad. It’s random… I wait in the trees until there’s a car on its own, step out and stop it.”

  “There were no mud samples in the cars or on the carpets.”

  “I wear boots, then take them off and put them in my rucksack.”

  “What about the mini?”

  “That’s only for emergencies, just in case I need to get away fast. That was the first time I had to use it. I leave it outside the junkyard, no one even spares it a glance.”

  “How do you get home?”

  “I walk. Takes a while, but at five in the morning, it’s dark, no one’s about… Oh and when I find a quiet place, I put my trench coat, cap, and boots on. No longer the smart serial killer, but the farmer.”

  “Jesus,” Chad said. “I knew you were organized, but that’s a different level.”

  “Thanks for the compliment—”

  “It wasn’t one.”

  “Felt like it.”

  “It was an observation, nothing more.”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve stopped a car on that road, and got into the back?”

  “Four…”

  “Add a zero to that and you’ll be close.”

  Chad got to his feet, the cuff clunked noisily, keeping him in place. “Forty, you’ve done this forty times?”

  “Yeah. It’s purely luck when I get the winning combination. Sometimes, I got to their house, and there were other people there, or I saw too many cameras on the way, or cameras on the property. It’s harder to plan a route home if there were too many to dodge.”

  “And if there were too many, if people were around, you just walked away?”

  “No, that would be suspicious. I called the opposite cab firm to come get me, and while I waited, I had a nice cup of tea, sometimes a beer, and I asked about the house, and the family, and I chatted, and I was charming, and polite, and I left with them thinking only good thoughts of me. I was a good guy to them.”

  “The others, the four?”

  “Either houses in the middle of nowhere, or down rougher streets. No security. I thought Georgie was a dead end, but then she mentioned the cameras were only on her precious cars. She couldn’t wait to get me inside. We were in the bedroom within ten minutes, her hands and mouth all over me, although she had different plans to my own.”