Page 39 of Now Comes the Dark

Would the city be the same after everything that had happened in the last year? Maybe it would bounce back once The Strangler was caught, maybe it wouldn’t. The venues around the gay village occupied places of prime real estate. There had been rumours going around for years that the city council was interested in driving out the LGBTQ businesses and gentrifying the area. The murders might be just the reason they needed to close the place down. The Viaduct, with its reputation for men-on-men sex had long been at the top of the hitlist.

What were the chances that Roman would even be here once it was over? If his circumstances didn’t change quickly, they were slim. And what about Mallon? He said he’d be here for afew months, but there had been no great commitment from him about that. Would Mallon be interested if he were living at home with his parents?Hardly. What grown man would be?

Fuck. Roman felt more depressed than ever.

“Can I have a double a vodka and cola?” he asked Phil, counting the change in his wallet. He’d have enough for one more drink after this, then he’d have to call it a night.

“Drowning your sorrows?” Phil asked as he poured the order.

“Getting that way. I’m struggling to think of much to be grateful for.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Drama queen. Tell Ashley to get his sleazy boyfriend out of the flat, and your troubles are over.”

“That’s not everything. I wish it was.” He told him about his money worries and the looming threat of redundancy. “I must have written to every accountancy firm in the city with my CV in the last year. None of them are hiring. If I lose this shitty job, I don’t know where I’ll find another one.”

“If it helps, I’m hiring,” Phil said. “It’s not accountancy, and I can only offer a couple of shifts a week, but if you want to earn a little extra money and maybe save some of it for a rainy day, the offer is there.”

“Seriously? I thought business was down.”

“It is, but I’m still short. I need staff to run the place. I can’t do everything on my own. Do you have you any experience of bar work?”

“Yeah. I had a second job all the way through university.”

“Great. Well, just think of it like that, taking on a second job while things are tough.”

Roman swallowed his drink, giving it some thought. “I’m not sure. It’s been a while. I don’t know if I can do it anymore.” But he was already thinking ahead. As well as the extra cash coming in handy, it would get him out of the flat a couple of times a week and away from Patrick. He was already working several hoursof free overtime. Wouldn’t it be better to get paid for the extra work?

“How about a trial shift?” Phil suggested. “Come in on Sunday morning for eleven. I can show you the ropes while it’s quiet, then we usually get busy from three onwards when the cabaret starts. What about doing eleven to seven? I’ll pay you, too, even though it’s a trial.”

What did he have to lose? He had no plans for this weekend, Mallon was in France. If he hated it or sucked at it, he could walk away at the end of the shift with a few extra pounds and no commitment—or it could be great and might help him out of his financial hole.

“All right,” he said, suddenly loving the idea. “If you’re serious, I’d like to give it a try.”

“You’re on,” Phil grinned. “Be here for eleven, and we’ll take it from there.”

* * * *

From the beer garden, a man had been watching Roman unnoticed for the last hour. By that time, the venue had filled up to near normal capacity.

Around ten-thirty Roman fastened his jacket and left the bar. The man slipped through the crowd and followed him outside.

Roman had already crossed the road and was walking up the street towards the town centre.

After everything that was going on, Roman was walking the street on his own again. The man couldn’t decide if that made him incredibly brave or just plain stupid. Whatever, it excited him to see the young fool alone. The man pulled the peak of his cap over his brow wrapped his scarf around the lower half of his face and crossed to the other side of the road to follow him.

Roman had a brisk walk and quickly extended the distance between them. The man increased his own pace slightly. Nottoo much. He didn’t want to draw attention. There was no need. He knew where to find Roman when he was ready. His time was coming. The man had wanted him for months and couldn’t ignore the urge for much longer.

He’d spent weeks fantasying about the moment, the night when he would get Roman exactly where he wanted him, when he would pin his body to the bed and wrap his hands around his throat. How much pressure would it take? The man’s cock grew hard at the thought. Would he put up much of a fight? Probably. Roman had a slender build, but there was strength behind it. It was obvious in the way he strode along the pavement tonight, the purpose with which he walked. It was not the gait or posture of a potential victim. Roman would be a challenge, and the man thrived on those.

His target turned the corner at the end of the road, heading for the taxi rank, no doubt.

The man hurried to catch up. He wanted one more glimpse of his future victim before quitting for the night.

As he rounded the street, he saw the taxi pick-up point was empty.

Fuck. Had he caught a cab so soon?

As the man looked along the road, he spotted Roman farther ahead, still on foot.Interesting. Is he going to walk all the way home, despite the dangers in the city?

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