Page 65 of Two for Joy

“I don’t need to do anything.” Holly said, gathering her things. “I think the best thing to do is let things play out.”

“Play out?”

“Yes.” She looked over to Paul, then Fred. “We’ll let the police do their job, and not interfere…”

“Chad’s innocent.”

“So you say. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s not. But the Canster times is gonna love reporting on it… The first paper to find out there’s a copycat on the loose. The first paper that has the name of the lead suspect.”

Romeo looked at Fred. “Come on, you know this is wrong.”

Fred opened his mouth, but a glare from Paul had him closing it again.

“Don’t turn on him, too.” Romeo whispered. “If something happens to Chad, can you live with yourself?”

Paul snorted. “He might be the killer. Always thought it was odd him visiting, it was like the two of you were speaking another language sometimes, maybe you were giving him tips all along.”

Romeo took a step towards Paul, fully intent on headbutting him again, but two batons were wagged at him. Fred’s with less conviction, but he’d still sided with Paul and Holly.

A huge grin lit up Paul’s face. “Not so clever now, hey.”

****

“I want to kill them all.”

“Woah, okay.”

“No, Ineedto kill them all.”

Romeo paced his cell, yanking out his hair, and every so often, lashing out at the wall. His knuckles throbbed, but the pain only made him want to lash out again. The monster inside him was enraged, frothing at the mouth, wild and feral.

Will had been trying to calm him down, but it only made Romeo want to kill him, too. Wrap his hands around his neck and strangle him until his sounds stopped for good, until the good feeling flooded his mind, and he felt right again.

“Who’s them?”

“Paul, Fred, fucking Holly.”

“Hey, you leave Holly out of this.”

“She’s the worst of them. To think, I thought making her falling for me was fun, but what the hell have I turned her into? She’s a monster of my own creation.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“They’ve banned my calls. They’re not letting me send any letters. Or letting me request visits.”

“That’s rough.”

“And I’ve got to help him somehow, but how can I when I’m stuck in here?”

“Help who?”

“And what if they target him, what if they read that goddamn article and decide they want to make him suffer.”

“Again, no idea what you’re on about.”

“What do I do? Tell me what do I do!”

Will was silent for a long time, then he whispered. “So you can’t have visitors, or phone calls, or write to anyone…”

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