Page 53 of Two for Joy

“How could you think that? You keep saying you know me!”

“I do.”

“Then why would you even…” Chad stood up, wiping his eyes.

“I’ve only got time to kill in here and it was a thought, only a thought, but in here you can’t do anything except sit, and think.”

“Was it a nice thought?”

Romeo swallowed, and didn’t answer. The more he’d thought about it, the more he liked the idea.

“I’m not like you.” Chad snapped. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I know you’re not. You could never disappoint me.”

“Is that what you’ve been hoping for all this time? Are you still playing games with me, one where you try to turn me, change me?”

“Finally,” Paul laughed. “You’ve seen the light.”

Romeo shook his head. “I’m not playing a game.”

“Really? Life’s just a game, that’s what you said the last time I was here.”

“It is.”

“Whose rules are we playing by? Is it always you that’s in control, that knows what’s going on? That knows how to win? Because I’m lost Romeo, and I’m on my own.”

“Chad…”

He backed away. “Look, I’ve had a long stressful day, I need to sort my head out.”

Romeo’s heart squeezed hard in his chest.

“Don’t worry,” Chad said. “I’ll be back same time next week.”

He left the room, closing the door softly behind himself.

“I’m so fucking confused.” Fred mumbled.

Paul laughed. “If he’s got any sense, he won’t come back again.”

Romeo waited ten seconds, then jumped up from his chair, and charged at Paul. He managed to headbutt him, but only on his shoulder, then Fred was on him, beating him with a baton.

It had been worth the beating to see the second of fear in Paul’s eyes.

****

Hell was supposed to be warm, bright, with fire, and screaming. Romeo was in hell, and it was the complete opposite. Solitary confinement. Grey, cold concrete. The only light came through a slit that posed as a window. It was silent. So silent, he could hear his own heart beating. They’d stripped his clothes and hadn’t even given him a blanket.

He was in hell, but it was cold, dead, like being buried underground. He clawed at the walls, but his nails left no marks, he couldn’t dig himself out of the situation. He couldn’t do anything but lie on his side and wait.

He’d done it to Chad.

Left him on a slab of concrete for hours while he was warm in the farmhouse. He’d fallen asleep, and the mistake had almost been fatal. Chad’s skin was like ice when Romeo rescued him from the barn and laid him down in front of the fire.

Romeo almost killed him by accident.

He released a long sigh, then closed his eyes. There were no books, no TV, no mementos of his crime, pictures of Chad, or feathers to distract himself. Sleep was the only thing he could do, but when he closed his eyes, he only had nightmares for company.

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