Page 40 of Now Comes the Dark

The man followed, keeping a safe distance. He didn’t want Roman to see him. Not yet. Tonight was not the night.

Roman paused when he reached the bus stop and turned. The man edged closer to the wall, keeping out of sight as Roman stuck out his hand to flag down an approaching bus.

Not a complete idiot.

He watched as the bus came to a stop and Roman boarded, paying the fee and finding a seat as it pulled away again.

The man’s breath quickened and billowed around his head as Roman was carried out of sight.

That boy was the hottest thing in Blyham, so confident and assured in his sexuality. No one else came close. None of the men he’d killed so far had excited him in this way.

The man groaned and adjusted his hard on in his jeans.

Roman’s time was coming to an end. It would not be long.

He would squeeze the life out of him and relish every delicious second.

Chapter Fifteen

A Grim Discovery

Roman was waiting at the front of Julie’s at five minutes to eleven on Sunday morning. He had stayed home last night, watched an old Roger Moore Bond movie, avoided alcohol and gone to bed after ten. Phil was throwing him a financial lifeline, and he couldn’t afford to screw it up. He had to take this trial seriously. Just a couple of shifts a week for the next few months would enable him to save money in a way he couldn’t right now.

Ashley and Patrick had gone clubbing, which had been another incentive for Roman to stay home and savour the peace. He had yet to have the conversation he needed with Ashley. He knew he couldn’t put it off much longer, but having the flat to himself and being able to enjoy an early night, just for once, had been a blessing. They had come in sometime around four. Roman had heard them in the kitchen—thankfully there were no arguments—and he’d been able to turn over and get right back to sleep. They were both still in bed with he’d left that morning.

Roman had already decided that if the conversation with Ashley didn’t go the way he’d like it to, he’d have no choice butto move out. He could never afford a place of his own, but it was time to make enquiries and see if anyone was in the market for a flat share, preferably someone without a toxic boyfriend. The money he earned working at Julie’s would come in handy for a deposit, should he need one.

He felt surprisingly cheerful this morning. A part-time job could be just what he needed. It was a progression. The first step on a journey, and it was something he was doing for himself. Nothing would change for the better if he sat around waiting for it. He had to take ownership of his situation. The job would mean less time to spend with Mallon, but it’s not like they were living in each other’s pockets, anyway. They only got together one or two nights a week and for a few hours at the weekend. And with Mallon returning to France at short notice, Roman couldn’t allow his own life to revolve around the availability of his lover.

If Mallon really wanted to spend time with him, they would find a way.

Roman checked his watch. Two-minutes past eleven. He tried the door again. Still locked.

He had always imagined Phil to be efficient and punctual to a fault. He could get pretty pissy when people arrived late and delayed one of his meetings. “Time waits for no one,” he would often say.

Still, it was Sunday morning, and he would have been up late last night. The poor guy probably didn’t get to bed until two or three. He was entitled to a lie in. Not everyone had the luxury of the early night Roman had enjoyed.

When the door was still locked at ten past eleven, Roman knocked. He hoped he hadn’t got the wrong time. He was certain Phil had told him to come for eleven. Had he made a mistake? What if he’d said twelve? Even worse, what if he’d changed his mind? Phil said the bar was quiet. He might have done a checkon the finances and realised he couldn’t afford the extra help after all.But no, Roman thought. Phil would have called to let him know. He wouldn’t have made him come down on a cold Sunday morning for nothing.

He must have slept in.

Roman checked his phone, searching for Phil’s number when someone approached him from the right.

“Are the doors locked?” It was Kat, one of the regular bartenders. She had changed the colour of her short blonde hair since Roman had seen her last. It was now two-tone with streaks of white and royal blue.

“Yeah. I’ve been here fifteen minutes. There’s no answer.”

“He’ll be in bed.” Kat opened her oversized black leather handbag and rummaged inside. She seemed to reach to the bottom of the farthest corner before retrieving a huge set of keys. “It happens all the time. He gave me these in case I must open on Sunday. Most weekends I do.”

Roman laughed, relieved. “Did Phil tell you I was coming?”

She nodded, frowning as she shifted through the selection of keys until she found the right one. “Yeah, he mentioned it. Trial shift, right? Don’t worry. He’ll be down to show you the ropes. Phil is quite keen on you, by the sound of it. We’ve struggled to retain good staff lately, and he seems to think you’ll do a lot better. You’ve done bar work before, right?” She unlocked the front door and entered.

“Only at uni.” He followed her into the dim interior. How different Julie’s appeared without the lights, the people, the music and atmosphere he was used to. He had a sense of trespassing, like he shouldn’t be here. Even the smell of the place was different—the sourness of stale alcohol together with damp odour of the drains and cellar. “It’s been a few years.”

Kat locked the door behind them and led the way to the bar. “That’s good enough. If you’ve got experience, you’ll pick it upfast. Julie’s isn’t all that different from the student union bar. That’s where I started, too, by the way.”

“Have you worked here long?”

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