One for Sorrow

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One for Sorrow Page 15

by Louise Collins


  “He had that look in his eye as he came towards me. He grabbed Toby by the collar, tried to pull him out of my room, but Toby wasn’t having it. He snarled, showed his teeth, but the guy was persistent. Toby bit him, and bit hard.” Chad gritted his teeth, remembering the bite, the snap, how easily his teeth had sunk through the man’s arm. “He’d protect me from anyone, and from that day on he didn’t let any of my mum’s friends near my room. If he heard them outside his hair would stand on end, his tail went still between his legs, and he snarled until they went away.”

  Romeo snorted. “Good job he wasn’t there when we first met.”

  “He would’ve gone for you for sure. He would’ve killed you.”

  “Countdown Killer culled by dog, I guess there would’ve been some canine justice in it… Tell me more about him.”

  “I got taken away from my mum when I was fourteen. It all came out about her sleeping with men for drugs, and just like I predicted, my friends, teachers, they looked at me differently—I made them uncomfortable. They saw me differently, avoided me.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “I went into care, but I refused to be parted with Toby. They told me it would be harder for me to be adopted. If I wanted the best chance of finding a family, I needed to give him up. I refused. As far as I was concerned, he was my family. The only thing that has ever shown me love, protected me, comforted me, made me laugh, and made me howl in despair when I lost him.”

  “That was quite a sound you made … tortured, devastated.” Romeo had a look of wonder on his face. “I’ve not heard anything like it before.”

  “It near killed me when he died. When I tell people about him, they don’t get it. They don’t understand. I didn’t cry when my mother died, but I did with Toby. If I admitted that to anyone, could you imagine how they’d look at me? I loved a dog more than the woman who gave birth to me.”

  “Does your fiancé know?”

  “Of course not. He knows I didn’t have the nicest childhood, but that’s all. He just thinks we were poor … but Toby was there. He saw the state of me, the messed-up situation. He stopped me feeling scared, distracted me, made me happy. I didn’t have to lie around him or put on a mask to look normal. He saw me and loved me anyway.”

  Romeo lowered his gaze. Chad fixated on his long lashes, the smooth skin of his eyelids, the droop of his eyebrows where he was frowning. Then he looked at Chad again, and the fire flickered in his green eyes. He looked so sincere Chad couldn’t breathe.

  “You said no one understood, but I do. Or at least as much as a man like me can. Toby saw you, the good, the bad, and the ugly. No lie, no filter, and he was there with you.”

  Chad licked his lips. “The magpie?”

  “I mean, Toby was your pet. He had no choice but to stay, and the magpie was my captive, so it had no choice, but they knew us in a way no one else could. In a way no one will. Our confidants, our secret keepers, the one thing in our lives that stopped us feeling lonely, if only for a little while.”

  “Then why did you break its neck? I don’t understand.”

  “Because I’m a monster—”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “Have you forgotten who I am? What I do? I kill people, Chad; I strangle the life out of them because it feels good to me. Because something messed up and twisted in my brain tells me it feels pleasurable, and endorphins, or neurons, or electric signals, God knows what, they make me enjoy it, and not only that, but the part of my brain where I should feel remorse, or guilt or self-loathing doesn’t work. I like you; I enjoy talking to you, and taking care of you, but do you know how many times I’ve thought about killing you?”

  Chad leaned back and waited for Romeo to tell him.

  “Every day, and I know it would feel good. It’s only because of the pattern, the allowance, and structure I’ve given my desires, that I haven’t. The numbers aren’t to mock the police like you think. They’re for me, to remind me this is it. When I get to one, I have to stop. I have to keep my desires under control.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  “I have to,” Romeo whispered. “To have this desire, this craving all my life, it’s exhausting. I need to be rid of it. It’s the only way, and then I’ll be free.”

  “Free to do what?”

  For the first time Chad saw sadness in Romeo’s eyes.

  “I don’t know.”

  Chad blinked, shaking his head. He shouldn’t feel any sympathy for Romeo. He didn’t feel sympathy for him, he repeated in his head, but the sadness in his expression made him momentarily speechless.

  He looked at Romeo’s chin, then lifted his gaze to his eyes once again. “I’m not exactly innocent. I’ve thought about killing you every day, too.”

  Romeo laughed, the somber look on his face vanishing, and he grinned warmly at Chad. He reached for Chad’s cheek, and he didn’t flinch or move away. He let Romeo touch him, and didn’t look away from his fond gaze.

  “The difference is, I could actually do it.”

  “What makes you think I couldn’t?”

  Romeo stroked Chad’s face. “Your eyes.”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re not the eyes of a monster.”

  He brushed his fingers down from Chad’s forehead, closing his eyelids. “Now, sleep.”

  Chad didn’t reopen his eyes. He stayed flat on his back, the fire on one side of him, and the burning heat of Romeo on the other.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What do you think?” Chad asked, dragging his fingers along his jaw. He’d only cut himself a few times, but the patches and wiry beard had gone, leaving smooth skin.

  Romeo came into the living room, and Chad lifted his chin up for him to see. His finger caressed Chad’s draw, brushing his skin.

  “Very good … for your first time.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Romeo smiled. “I told you I could’ve shaved your jaw. I would’ve been careful, gentle.”

  Chad shook his head. “I wanted to do it myself.”

  He was sitting in the living room armchair, bowl of water on the table beside him, and mirror in his hand. He held the razor out to Romeo, who narrowed his eyes, then took it.

  “I need to go to the city.”

  “Can I come, too?”

  “Sadly not. Where do you want me to leave you? The spare bedroom, the barn, the kitchen?”

  “Here’s good.”

  Romeo nodded.

  Chad rested his hand on the radiator under the window, and Romeo snapped the cuffs on his wrist, then to the radiator. He gave them a sharp tug to ensure Chad couldn’t escape, then backed off.

  “Do you want anything?”

  Chad lifted his eyebrow. “The key to the cuffs would be nice.”

  Romeo tipped his head back, snorting. “No, I meant is there anything you want to eat? Or drink?”

  “Malibu.”

  “Malibu…”

  “Yeah, and cola, and ice, a slice of lemon, and one of those little umbrellas. That sounds perfect.”

  Romeo grinned at him. “I’ll see what I can do, and I’ll try not to be long.”

  “Be as long as you want, maybe even take a little detour to the police station and hand yourself in.”

  “I don’t think I’ll have the time.”

  “Shame, I guess I’ll see you later then.”

  “You’re in an odd mood this morning.”

  Chad ran his fingers down his jaw. He tried to convince himself it had been the shaving that lightened his mood, took a weight off him, but deep down he knew it was their conversation in the night.

  He guessed Romeo knew, too, but he didn’t comment. Chad was still chained to a radiator, in the middle of nowhere, with a badly injured leg, and a monster looking after him, but the whole situation had woken a dark sense of humor.

  “I’m gonna go change.”

  Chad knew what that meant. He was going to slip on his farmer’s disguise, and when Romeo poked h
is head back into the room twenty minutes later, Chad stared at the cap on his head, then dragged his gaze down to the tweed jacket, before finally the wellington boots.

  “Farmer Romeo.”

  Romeo grinned. “I won’t be long.”

  He left the doorway, and Chad waited for the slam of the front door. His good mood faltered when Romeo left, the slam sounding so final, and cutthroat. He couldn’t see the car from his position by the window, but he heard its knackered old engine getting further away until he could only hear the creaking of the farmhouse, the squawks of the birds, and the howl of the wind. He switched on the TV, blocking out the sounds that made him feel like he was in a horror movie.

  He watched another quiz show, grew bored, twitched over to the kids’ channel, rolled his eyes at the repeats, then hesitatingly pressed in the numbers for the twenty-four-news channel.

  He froze when he saw Neil.

  His gaze was fixed on the table, and camera shutters snapped to catch the reaction each time the Chief Inspector spoke.

  They thought Chad had been battered to death by the killer, having found the murder weapon, and blood in the trunk of Neil’s Porsche. Neil’s eyebrows tugged together at that, and he took a long blink.

  The cameras loved that.

  Chad stared at his ex-fiancé, tilting his head, studying him. His hair was shorter since he’d last seen him, but it had been weeks, and he was on TV. He’d want to look his best, Chad reasoned. But he didn’t recognize the shiny purple tie hanging from his neck, or the expensive looking jacket, or the cufflinks that sparkled each time he moved. He’d bought a whole new outfit, and had his hair cut for the press conference.

  Chad shook his head, internally arguing Neil’s case. He wanted to look good on camera, smart, presentable, and there was nothing wrong with that. But he didn’t have a job, or the money to buy expensive suits and diamond cufflinks.

  Chad dragged his gaze from the TV and attached it to the newspaper wallpaper. Romeo bought one back every time he went out and stapled it to the wall. Chad blocked it out, didn’t look, didn’t read, and Romeo didn’t comment. The articles weren’t to mock him but were mementos to Romeo. They made him puff up with pride, and smile.

  Chad found an article from a week earlier.

  Devastated Fiancé reveals wedding wish.

  He skimmed his eyes along, finding another.

  “Give me my Fiancé’s body back”, demands detective’s lover.

  Then another.

  “I want to bury him on our wedding day.”

  Chad exhaled slowly. Neil was still selling stories to Marc Wilson. Stories about him, and he was making money on his apparent death after promising no more articles.

  “Asshole,” Chad mumbled.

  He switched the TV off and glared out the window. Something caught his eye, and he grabbed for the binoculars. A fox was running across the field, followed by three cubs.

  “That could explain the pawprints,” Chad whispered.

  The mother fox stopped, looked around, then settled on the ground. Chad watched the cubs playing, rolling around in the mud, and generally looking like happy mini foxes. He watched them, smiling each time they fell over or rolled in the mud. They soon grew tired of pouncing on each other and launched at their mum.

  Chad heard the mini getting closer, the sound of the front door opening, then Romeo’s heavy steps. Chad kept watching the foxes. The mum had enough messing around with her legs flailing in the air. She stood up, looked across the fields, then started trotting away. The cubs followed, and they disappeared from view. There were thumps and thuds from the kitchen, then footsteps heading up the stairs. Chad turned the binoculars to the sky, and watched a few birds flying away.

  “Your beverage.”

  Chad turned to Romeo coming closer, no longer wearing the farmer’s clothes, but back to his casual sweatpants and tight t-shirt.

  Chad took the glass. It had ice and a mini umbrella like he asked; one sniff of the cola, and he smelled the Malibu. Romeo waited patiently, eyebrows raised and cocky smile twisting his lips. He wanted praise, Chad could tell.

  “It’ll do.”

  “What do you mean ‘it’ll do’? It’s exactly what you asked for.” He pointed at the binoculars. “Anything interesting out there?”

  “Foxes, birds.” Chad rubbed his fingers on the arm of the chair, then glanced back out the window. “I remember the farmer—the real farmer. He wasn’t exactly liked around here…”

  “Why not?”

  “He used to shoot the foxes. He’d shoot a dog if it wandered onto his lands. Then there was the problem with the birds.”

  “What about the birds?”

  “He used to kill them, then hang them in the fields along the road. We had a lot of complaints at the station from angry parents.”

  “What kind of birds?”

  Chad frowned. “Crows, I think.”

  “And magpies?”

  “Yes, I think so, it was a long time ago.”

  “Bastard,” Romeo hissed. Chad shot a look at him, seeing the flare of anger in his eyes, and then it vanished. They sat in silence while Chad drank his drink, and then Romeo shot him a small smile. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “What?”

  Romeo grinned, left the room, then returned a few minutes later holding crutches. “To help you move about.”

  “Aren’t you worried about me escaping?”

  Romeo snorted. “I know you won’t. Now come on, let’s try to get you up.”

  Chad took the crutches, then with Romeo’s help, managed to stand. It was an odd feeling being upright without being sprawled over Romeo. He smiled, nodded in encouragement, and Chad swung the crutches forward, taking a step. Some sense of pride came back to him, and he smiled at Romeo, only for his smile to quickly fade when he focused on the news articles behind his head. The man that had given him back a sliver of freedom was still the killer keeping him captive.

  “How’s the pain?”

  “Manageable,” Chad muttered.

  “Good. I need an extra hand in the kitchen.”

  “As long as it’s not an extra leg…”

  Romeo led the way, while Chad got acquainted with his crutches. Romeo pointed to the kitchen table. Chad stared at the onions and the knife, then back at Romeo.

  “You want me to chop onions?”

  “Yep.”

  “So you are going to torture me after all?”

  Romeo laughed, and Chad couldn’t stop his lips twitching into a smile.

  “I’ve been cooking for you for weeks, so it’s time you help out.”

  Chad sat down at the table, then rested his crutches on the floor.

  “I hate chopping onions.”

  “There’s a real good technique of getting it done where your eyes don’t burn.”

  “What is it?”

  Romeo hummed, then shook his head. “I can’t remember.”

  “That’s really helpful.”

  “I’ll tell you when I do.”

  “What are you making?”

  “We,” Romeo corrected. “Paella, but without the prawns. There wasn’t any.”

  “Good, I hate prawns.”

  “I heard if you eat anything eight times, you start to like it.”

  “Is that what you’ve told all your lovers?”

  Romeo tipped his head back, laughing. Chad hated that he had a nice laugh. He was hoping for something ugly to reveal itself from Romeo, but apart from the words that left his mouth, he appeared perfect.

  Chad started on the onions, and within seconds his eyes were watering, and he was constantly blinking to compensate. Romeo watched him for a few moments, then went over to the fridge for the chicken.

  He started frying it, and the smell woke Chad’s dormant appetite.

  “Did you and your fiancé cook together?” Romeo asked.

  “No, we mostly got meals delivered.”

  “That can’t have been good for you, all that junk food.”
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br />   “They were health foods. Sometimes we had pizza, but mainly pastas, salads.”

  “That must’ve been expensive.”

  Chad shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

  “What about when you lived with your mother?”

  Chad released a bitter laugh. “Like she’d have cooked with me.”

  The knife glinted in Chad’s hand, and he stared down at his reflection in the gleaming blade. He could launch it at Romeo, stab him in the back, stop him from killing again, but he didn’t. He sighed, and carried on chopping the onions.

  “What about you, is this something you did with your lovers?” Chad asked.

  “Not really, I’m not a relationship person. It’s more like a one-night deal with me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think I’d make the best boyfriend, and concealing yourself from people is exhausting. I’d rather be the true me and alone, than lie with someone else.”

  “Maybe there’s someone out there that shares all your desires. You can meet all sorts of people over the internet.”

  “Luckily for you. It’s just me. No partner in crime, or apprentice. Otherwise the countdown could’ve started at 10.”

  Chad gestured to the chopping board for Romeo to see. “Done.”

  “You’re a natural.”

  “A natural at chopping onions?”

  “Yeah. Now for the pepper.”

  He threw a red pepper at Chad, and he caught it one handed. His eyes were still burning, and he was surprised he’d caught it at all.

  “Wait, you let me burn my eyes out first, when I could’ve started with the pepper?”

  Romeo shrugged, then stilled, waving his spoon. “Wait, I remember the technique with the onions.”

  “Which is?”

  Romeo smiled, a big, blooming smile that lifted his cheeks. “The key is to get someone stupid to cut them for you.”

  Chad narrowed his eyes. “This stupid someone might just brush them onto the floor.”

  “No, don’t.” Romeo laughed. “If you do, I’ll put you back in the barn.”

  Chad sighed and started on the pepper. He couldn’t see what Romeo was doing in the frying pan, but it smelled so good his mouth watered. Romeo took the onions and peppers, and added them into the pan.

 

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