One for Sorrow

by Louise Collins

  “What message?”

  “You want me to realize I’m helpless. I’m reliant on you. I can’t escape.”

  “In five weeks, you won’t need to.” Romeo gestured to the news articles around him. “You’re not part of this anymore. You don’t need to fight me, hate me. You’re no longer a detective. You’re a captive, that’s all. My toy, my plaything, until I claim number one, and then you’ll be free.”

  Chad didn’t outwardly react, but inside he reeled. He was still a detective, despite his injured leg and his abysmal situation.

  Even if it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to make sure Romeo didn’t get his number one.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hands were over Chad’s eyes. They shook with excitement; a giddy heartbeat punched his back.

  “Ta-dah,” Neil announced, removing his hands.

  Chad blinked up at the massive house. The sheer size left him speechless. The garden was immaculately pruned, the windows were spotless, the walls were painted beige, and the window frames were black. It looked like the house had been plucked from the pages of a glossy magazine and put in front of him. Houses like that were not meant for people like him.

  He was meant for shabby apartments, with paper-thin walls and watermarks leaking across the ceiling. He was meant for streets where there was constant shouting, the sound of breaking glass and sirens, not a house set back from the road, with a huge driveway, and no neighbors in sight.

  Neil took his hand and tugged him around the side of the property. Chad couldn’t tear his eyes off it, but Neil yanked his hand hard to get his attention. Chad’s eyebrows shot into his hair when he saw the pool. An actual pool that wasn’t green with mildew like the one he’d swum in when he was away with his mum. It wasn’t a vacation; it was a stay in a rundown hotel while she did her business upstairs. Seven years old, he couldn’t swim, but went into the pool anyway. He’d thought it was a balloon floating on the water’s surface, but he now knew better, had learned what kind of places his mum took him.

  “It’s heated,” Neil said, cutting through his thoughts. “We can use it all year ‘round.”

  “You’ve got a pool?”

  “No, we’ve got a pool. It’s our home, Chad. Do you like it?”

  He smiled. Of course he liked it. Who wouldn’t like a huge house with a swimming pool?

  “I knew you would,” Neil said, tugging him in for a kiss.

  Chad froze. Thoughts flew through his head in a nanosecond, but then he reciprocated. He loved the house, the pool, the vacations, the gifts. He loved them, but he didn’t love Neil.

  Chad could hear knocking, but Neil didn’t seem to notice.

  “Chad … is it hurting again?”

  Kissing Neil didn’t hurt. It felt empty, a lie, and the lie morphed into guilt, and self-loathing until Chad usually broke the kiss. Sex was easier than kissing. It was all about the chase for pleasure, not love, even if Neil did whisper that word afterwards.

  He didn’t deserve Neil. Neil would’ve been better suited to someone else, but he was selfish.

  “Hey.”

  A thumb brushed under his eye, and he registered the wet on his face.

  “Happy tears,” Chad forced out, hoping to appease Neil so he wouldn’t ask.

  So he wouldn’t be tempted to blurt out the truth and destroy his messed-up piece of happiness.

  It was a lie, and lies always came out in the end.

  “You don’t look very happy.”

  The voice wasn’t Neil’s, and the memory started to fade into darkness. Chad could hear tapping, and when he opened his eyes, it took a few minutes to adjust, and realize it was rain hitting the window beside him, fortunately not a magpie.

  Romeo was perched on the arm of the chair, leaning into Chad’s space. He stroked his cheek, catching Chad’s facial hair. It was longer; Chad didn’t know how many days had passed. They merged together and were only interrupted when he had to move. He slept in the bedroom at night but spent the days in the living room. Romeo cooked for him, helped him to the bathroom, cleaned him, even brushed his teeth. Romeo stared so intently into his eyes that Chad had to look away.

  “You’re crying,” Romeo said. “Is this something you do a lot?”

  “No,” Chad said. “I haven’t in years.”

  “You’re finally letting it all out then.”

  “Letting what out?”

  “All your pent-up emotions.”

  “What?”

  “It’s fascinating. I hardly have any, but you, your face, your eyes, your voice, you’re so expressive. You have so many emotions, and you don’t even try to hide them.”

  “It’s the pills.”

  Chad knew it hadn’t been long since he’d last taken his pills, not because he remembered, but because of the hazy sensation at the back of his skull. The detached, cut-loose feeling that scared him. He didn’t want to talk, worried what would come out, but Romeo liked to ask. Chad could see it in his eyes. He liked for his mind to tear itself apart through dreams and memories. It was entertainment for him. Cruel bastard, but he acted so caring while he watched, wiped Chad’s face, staring deep into his eyes. He looked excited, like he was putting together a puzzle, and was amazed by what he saw.

  “Why were you crying?” Romeo murmured.

  “Because I’m a bad person.”

  Romeo’s thumb paused, and he blinked, then frowned. “How are you a bad person?”

  “Because of how I treated Neil.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Chad bit his lip. “No.”

  Romeo’s frown deepened. He looked away, then back at Chad before whispering, “Did you love him?”

  “I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should love your fiancé, right? The person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with … but I didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “It does when I knew that, but still accepted his gifts, went on his holidays, moved into his house. I loved him for the things he gave me, not for the person he was. I thought maybe with time it’d come, and I’d feel it, but it never did. I said yes to marrying him, not for love, but stability. If I said no, he might’ve taken everything away from me. That makes me a bad person.”

  Romeo opened his mouth, and Chad waited with bated breath. He needed someone to tell him he wasn’t bad, but Romeo pressed his lips together in a firm line instead. If a serial killer couldn’t even reassure him that he wasn’t, he must’ve been worse than bad.

  “And when it all blew up in my face, I blamed him, but it’s down to me.”

  “What blew up in your face?”

  Chad gestured to the newspapers pinned to the wall. Romeo looked, but his frown persisted, and Chad knew he didn’t understand.

  “I don’t know what I’ve got to do with your relationship.”

  “The articles, the leaked information. They come from Neil.”

  Romeo turned sharply, startling Chad. His eyes were wide, and his lips were parted. He looked shocked, the first time he’d been shocked by something Chad had told him.

  “Your fiancé was the one leaking stuff to the press?”

  Chad nodded. “Yeah.”

  “He betrayed you like that.”

  “No … he was doing it for me. He’d lost his job, was worried I’d leave him. He sold information to keep the money coming in, to give me the life I’d gotten accustomed to. A life far away from what I had with my mother.” Chad wanted the filter in his brain to work, to shut him down, stop him speaking, but he couldn’t. “The endless articles added pressure, stress, and the DI took the brunt of it. His heart attack was down to me.”

  “Not to destroy your downward spiral, but I think his heart attack was because of me. You know, the serial killer…”

  “But it’s my fault Neil was selling the stories. He was doing it for me, to make me happy.”

  Romeo whistled, then laughed. “What the hell is going on in that pretty head of yours?” />
  “Those painkillers. I don’t want to take them anymore.”

  “But they help with the pain.”

  “I’d rather the pain than my mind unraveling like this. You enjoy it though, don’t you? You like seeing me suffer.”

  “It’s not about suffering. I like learning about you, how you justify things, make sense of what’s happening around you. It’s interesting, but if you really don’t want to take them anymore, I won’t make you.”

  Chad looked down at his bandaged leg. He remembered what it felt like to feel the pain in full, and shuddered. Romeo watched him, then sighed.

  “How about we find a happy medium, a balance so we muffle some of the pain, and let you keep your head.”

  Chad nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Half a pill every four hours, but if you need more, tell me. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Despite what you think, I don’t want to see you suffering. I only want to know you, and for you to know me.”

  “Why?”

  Romeo shrugged. “I just do. We’re playing a game, and games are supposed to be enjoyable for all involved, even this one, oh, and Chad…”

  “What?”

  “You’re not a bad person.”

  It shouldn’t have made him feel better, but it did.

  ****

  Chad hated the indignity of being so weak he spilled his food, so weak he had to support his forearm with his other hand. Romeo waited until it got too much for Chad, and he sighed in defeat.

  “You’ll let me do it?”

  Chad nodded, dropping his arms back into his lap. Romeo grinned, then began spooning the soup into his mouth. Home-made chicken soup, Romeo had told him. The smell had filled the house, and after one mouthful Chad knew it was the best damn soup he’d ever had. Romeo enjoyed feeding him. His eyes went wide, and shiny, and he leaned into Chad’s personal space. He thought about smacking the spoon away, or spitting the soup at Romeo, but he did neither. He pushed the defiant part of him away, and accepted the situation. Romeo grinned, and Chad hated how he seemed to know the battle going on in Chad’s head.

  “I saw your officer friend in the city,” Romeo mumbled.

  “Who?”

  “The one on reception, nice guy, very polite.”

  “Zac,” Chad whispered.

  “He came over to me, and my heart leapt into my throat, but he ended up apologizing for not looking into the graffiti on the barn. I told him not to worry, there was more pressing things for the police to worry about.” Romeo smirked. “He actually thanked me for understanding. Then I asked him about you.”

  Chad bit his lip. “What did he say?”

  “They’ve not given up hope that you were still alive somewhere, at the killer’s mercy. He’s gonna kick himself in four weeks’ time when he realizes I had you locked away, like some damsel in a tower. A damsel that fell from the tower and had a rake impended in her ass.”

  “Wasn’t my ass.”

  “Close enough. What were you even doing up there?”

  “There was a scythe.”

  Romeo raised both eyebrows, then put the bowl on the side. “You were gonna attack me with it?”

  “That was the plan, but I hesitated, and the wooden board broke.”

  “Why hesitate?”

  “I didn’t know if I could kill you.”

  Romeo looked down. “I never thought like that. I’ve always known I’m capable of killing anyone. I’m a monster.”

  “With the face of a handsome man.”

  Romeo grinned. “You said that to me a lot when you were drifting in and out. You kept calling me handsome, you kept thanking me for helping you. You said it so softly, like you couldn’t believe someone would do such a thing. You don’t say thank you as much now.”

  Chad scrunched his face. “Now I remember.”

  “You remembered I’m the monster than murders as well as the man that helped you.”

  “The monster part outweighs the man.”

  Romeo sighed. “Well, at least you still think I’m handsome.”

  He grinned again, showing off his attractive face. Chad turned away. “You’re a man and a monster, handsome on the outside, but ugly down to your core.”

  Romeo picked up the bowl of soup and resumed spooning it into Chad’s mouth. It tasted so good; Chad couldn’t deny himself.

  “Even so,” Romeo whispered, “You’re still letting me take care of you.”

  “What’s the alternative?”

  “You know the alternative. It flickers behind your eyes, stiffens your body. You could fight against me, but deep down, that’s not what you want.”

  “I want you to get caught.”

  “No. That’s the detective talking, but Chad? Well, he wants me to take care of you, and I am.”

  ****

  “It’s going to be cold for the next few days,” Romeo said. Chad blinked, ending his staring contest with the damning articles on the living room walls.

  “It’s best we sleep in here,” Romeo went on.

  The living room was physically the most comfortable place, squishy armchair, log pile, coffee table to rest his leg, but the wallpaper was a never-ending horror story, quite literally. Romeo would chain him to the radiator, go out, then return with a brand-new front page.

  Romeo’s words finally sank in, and Chad frowned. “What do you mean, we?”

  “As in the walls of this place are thin, it’s easier for me to heat this one room, than the whole house.”

  Romeo disappeared out the door. Chad heard the creak of the stairs, and then thudding, banging. He stared at the door expectantly, and the noises got louder, closer, until Romeo was walking backwards into the room, dragging a mattress. He put it on the floor, then left the room again, returning with a duvet and pillows hugged to his chest. He laid them out, then went over to the fire.

  “Us, together?” Chad said.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna jump on you in the night, or are you worried you’re gonna jump on me?” Romeo lifted his eyebrow.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “It’s you that flatters me, every time you look at me with those big brown eyes, so grateful, so amazed. Then you remember and scowl at yourself for it.”

  “Shut up.”

  “The fact that you get so uptight about it, tells me it’s true. It’s okay to think I’m hot, Chad. No one’s gonna judge you for it.”

  Romeo was wrong. Chad judged himself, and he judged himself very harshly when it came to Romeo. He shouldn’t accept his hands through his hair, or him feeding him when he got weak, or him helping Chad around the house.

  Romeo shook his head when he checked the pile of logs, then turned to the window.

  “I need to chop some more.” He reached for the remote controller, then passed it to Chad. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  Chad hummed, not making eye contact, and switched on the TV. It was on the news channel, and he quickly changed it, settling on a quiz show. Romeo watched him for a few minutes, then left the room.

  Chad blamed his awful score on the drugs in his system. He got nearly every general knowledge question wrong, barely making sense of the host talking. When the host and contestant shared a joke he didn’t understand, he pulled a face as they dissolved into hysterics on the screen.

  He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned to the window. Romeo dragged a log across the mud. It was long, and wide, and difficult to drag over the bumpy field. Romeo stopped several times, wiping his arm against his brow before tugging at the trunk again.

  Chad reached for the binoculars and peered through. He watched Romeo dab his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. His torso was covered in mud, and Chad could see a patch on his cheek. Romeo seemed to feel it, went to wipe it, but ended up smearing it up to his forehead.

  Chad put the binoculars down, forcing his attention back on the TV, but he could see the small figure out of the corner of his eye, demanding to be se
en, to be watched.

  When he next pressed the binoculars to his eyes, Romeo was topless. A blush rose to Chad’s cheeks as he spied on him from a distance. He lifted the axe, and Chad fixated on his back muscles, the movement as he swung down and hit the log hard. His muscles rippled at the contact, then tensed for the next swing. He’d known Romeo was muscular, had caught glimpses of his physique through his tight t-shirts, but had never actually seen him. Romeo moved, back no longer to the farmhouse, but facing it head on. He wasn’t looking. He crouched down, tossed a piece of the log aside, then stood up again.

  Chad got to see his body swing the axe from another angle. His pectorals tensed, then juddered when he hit the log. His stomach pulled tight, and Chad could see the dips of his muscle, the dark hair that lined them, but his arms, they were the real highlight, bulging, strong. Chad could see a vein running from the inside of Romeo’s elbow, up his bicep. He was covered in mud, and sweat, and when Chad looked higher, he saw Romeo’s reddened face, his parted lips.

  Chad put the binoculars down with more force than necessary. He was breathing heavily, too hot watching Romeo.

  He felt tight in his boxers, not his boxers, but the ones Romeo had given him. He’d gotten hard, and he shouldn’t have. Romeo may’ve been attractive, had a body of hard muscle, but he was a monster. Inside he was twisted; he was something ugly that needed chaos and death to satisfy it.

  Chad watched cartoon after cartoon. His erection went down, but he couldn’t forget it. He couldn’t block out getting hard, or delete the sight of Romeo heaving, stretching, swinging, the ripple of his muscle when he hit something hard.

  “Fuck,” Chad hissed. He looked down at his leg, then tilted it. A spike of pain traveled up, and he whimpered as it chased away his lingering arousal.

  He turned his attention to the cartoon, at a level he could understand with his drugged mind, and his aching body. He didn’t need to think, but zoned out watching the colors and listening to the high-pitched voices.

  The door to the living room opened, and Romeo walked in, holding a stack of firewood to his chest. He was still topless, and he panted as he walked towards the fire. He kneeled down, unloaded his bounty, then paused to rest. His back glistened, and his whole body lifted and fell with his harsh pants. Chad’s nose twitched at the smell of fresh sweat, and mud. He twisted his leg, keeping his unwanted lust at bay, but his sharp whine got Romeo’s attention.