Page 4 of Two for Joy

211 days since he’d last had sex.

But with hours to kill in his cell, sometimes the best way to spend it was remembering Chad and himself in the farmhouse. The last week, they’d barely kept off each other. It had been a case of eat, sleep, sex, and repeat, but the monster in his head had been lurking, getting impatient.

“What kind of crossword is this?” Paul asked.

Romeo blinked out of his lusting haze and looked back at Paul.

“It’s the—the Valentine’s edition.” Chad said

“Valentine’s day? That was a week ago.”

“Yeah, I got this from the wastepaper bin at work.”

Romeo raised his eyebrows. “Thanks a lot, not even worth a recent copy.”

“Choking is not pleasurable.” Paul said.

Romeo turned away. “Have you tried it?”

“It’s sick and twisted.”

“No,” Romeo said, “You’re doing it all wrong if you’re twisting.”

“You’re an animal, Romeo.”

“I prefer monster.”

“Do you think this is funny?”

Romeo could tell by the movement of Chad’s eyes that Paul was talking to Chad, not him.

“Joking about choking, that’s how he killed them right? He strangled them, you even saw the victims after he was done with them, and now you’re laughing about it.”

“I’m not laughing about it.”

“Looks that way. You coming here looks as if you think his crime was a joke, not serious, not devastating for the people directly involved and the whole country who were terrified for months.”

Chad clenched and relaxed his hand on the table. The gesture wasn’t threatening, but stress related. Every time Chad got uncomfortable, he started the odd routine, grounding himself, getting his emotions under control. Romeo wondered whether it was something his therapist had taught him, or if he just started doing it on his own. Either way, he did the odd hand pulses while his eyes got more and more distant.

“I’m here to see Romeo, not the countdown killer.”

“They’re the same fucking person.”

“Enough.” Fred said.

“But—

“Yeah, listen to your superior.” Romeo mumbled.

“He’s not my superior.”

“In intelligence he is. You’re not really angry at Chad, you’re just taking it out on him. I know why you’re angry…”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Five-foot-six, blonde hair, wears high heels and lots of lipstick.”

“Don’t bring Holly into this.”

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