Page 78 of Two for Joy

The DI narrowed his eyes. “But why?”

“I need Chad to live.”

Chapter Fourteen

The killer had Chad.

That was all he could think.

The only thought in his head days after the DI had visited.

Romeo was trapped behind bars, doors, locks, endless obstacles separating him from finding Chad. Boredom and despair festered in his mind. He couldn’t eat, or sleep, or do anything but think the same tormenting thought.

The killer had Chad.

He’d had him for a week. Seven days. 168 hours.

The DI hadn’t contacted him. He’d been locked away, forced to watch the case unfold on the TV. Most of the time he avoided watching the news—it made him feel helpless, trapped, useless.

Romeo imagined that was how Chad felt in the farmhouse.

He’d stopped watching news in the end, and filled his time with cartoons, quiz shows, and god-awful sci-fi movies, but it made his chest feel tight.

“Psst…”

A killer that had found his own style, his own passion. A killer that wasn’t going to toy with Chad’s mind like Romeo had, but going to play with his body, cut it, hurt it, make it bleed. Then after a month, when he’d had his fun, he would drag his scalpel over Chad’s throat, then burn the number one into his flesh.

“Hey,” Will hissed.

“What?”

“If Fred and Paul ask, can you tell them I’ve been complaining of stomach pains?”

Romeo sat leaning against the bars of his cell. His knuckles ached from taking his frustrations out on the wall.

“They won’t ask.”

“Tell them anyway.”

“Why?”

“Escape plan remember. I’m coming down with meningitis.”

He’d slid his A-Z medical dictionary to Will days before and meningitis was the best he’d managed to come up with. Romeo rolled his eyes at his efforts.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Just tell them.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m working on my own plan right now, and you’ll discredit it.”

“You’ve been trashing your cell like an enraged beast day after day.”

“I prefer the term monster.”

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