Page 20 of Two for Joy

Holly opened her mouth, eyes glowering, chest out, she looked as if she was about to say something, then glanced at Fred and Paul. She swallowed, before looking down at her papers.

“Because it would be really beneficial to your victims’ families if they heard you felt guilty. If they knew you’d confided in someone about what you did, and the reasons you did it, and admitted you felt bad.”

“They’re gonna be waiting a long, long time.”

The edge of Holly’s lips tilted up, then she schooled her expression into a serious one. “They can wait, and I can wait, too. But for now, Romeo, promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t kill anyone. Don’t complete your countdown.”

Paul grunted. “No chance of that.”

Holly ignored Paul and stared deep into Romeo’s eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“It would be bad for your article … or would it be the fitting conclusion? Countdown killer gets his number one, then hangs himself in his cell.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

Romeo couldn’t care less if it were the other way around.

Chapter Five

Romeo stared at himself in the mirror. Dark hair, masculine shaped jaw, neat stubble, grey eyes, and naturally tall and wide, the perfect frame to add muscle. He was handsome, kept himself in shape, and even when he was young, he had learned the effectiveness of his genetic mask, and the nurtured environment that surrounded it.

He snorted when he remembered the squirrel.

It had already been dead when they found it, but it was Romeo who took it apart with a pen knife.

He was nine years old.

Romeo stuffed its organs into tiny containers, then wrapped it up in toilet paper like a mummy. All Timmy Barnes did was put a Tupperware box on the headmaster’s desk under Romeo’s instructions.

Timmy got the blame.

Timmy, who lived in a trailer park, who had missing teeth, dirty clothes, and an IQ lower than the dead squirrel. The teachers blamed him despite knowing Romeo had been at the school early that morning. Despite knowing Romeo had a high IQ, and an interest—bordering on obsession—with organs, of where they were, what bits to cut to remove them. He had a steady hand in chemistry, didn’t shy from any challenge in biology, and loved learning about the practices of the Egyptians in history.

With all the evidence right there, the teachers still pointed the finger at Timmy, and despite Timmy’s protests, and him telling them the truth, that it had been Romeo, he still got expelled.

The teachers didn’t believe it was Romeo because of who he was, where he was from, his parents, his IQ. There was no way he’d cut into a dead squirrel and take it apart. No way Romeo, the young promising student with the soft eyes and the messy hair, who liked painting, had done something so repulsive.

Romeo raked his fingers down his face. Many times he thought of making himself ugly on the outside, as well as the inside. All he had to do was pick up a razor, a pen, or use his nails, but he didn’t.

His handsome face had been an advantage when hiding who and what he really was. No one could see the monster—not his parents, not his colleagues, not even his old boss. Not any of the people that picked him up in their cars, and certainly not the ones who took him home.

Having an attractive face immediately opened doors, elite opportunities, and he’d walked through every one until his parents died. He didn’t need to pretend the outside beauty was matched on the inside. When his mother died, he could finally give into his desire, and be himself, but only five times, that’s what he told himself. That was his allowance, his target, his goal.

Only five.

“Hey Romeo, you free for another beer?”

He dragged his gaze from the mirror and walked to the bars of his cell. He couldn’t poke his head out, but he could see a hand waving from the cell next to his. Will’s hand.

“Free,” Romeo smirked.

“Did you get to see her?”