Page 59 of Three for a Girl

“I’m a passionate petrol head, remember?”

The mug, the thank you cards—Chad clutched his head.

“Yeah, one who I almost killed.”

“As I said, Chad. No harm done. Not this time at least.”

He swallowed. “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Carter looked pointedly at his throat. “With the car, and with your choice of romantic partner. He didn’t have any control of himself.”

“We … misread each other. Misread the moment.”

“Don’t put your trust in the wrong people.”

“I won’t.”

“And if you ever need to talk…”

“Thanks, but I’m all right.”

He gave Chad one last sweeping look, and walked away, holding his hand up for the recovery vehicle to stop. Chad crossed the road, climbed back into his car, and reversed from the field.

Carter waved him off, and Chad shot him a smile before looking beyond him to the building in the distance, the kennel inside the cage.

He shook his head.

Romeo wouldn’t be in there.

His heart fluttered when he thought of Romeo, back at home, waiting for Chad, like he promised, monster be damned.

Chapter Nine

Chad threw water at his face. He gasped at the cold splash, his hair dripped into the sink and he reached to turn the tap off. When he lifted his head, he didn’t focus on his face, but the suit he was wearing.

His detective suit.

The water soaked blemishes into the material. He didn’t look like they were in the midst of a heatwave, but a downpour.

He straightened his tie, sorted his collar, and looked at the marks on his neck. The reddish-brown tint to his skin. Chad tilted his head, certain he could see the shape of Romeo’s thumb under his jaw.

Three days had passed. Three painfully slow days.

When he looked out of the window each morning, he was hit by a crushing wave of disappointment.

He got dressed, drove to work, and after ten minutes of being in the incident room had to excuse himself for the bathroom.

The bathroom he chose was outside the mortuary, an unpopular place to visit by the crystal clean toilets, and the well supplied soap dispensers. No one wanted to relieve themselves when death lurked in the next room.

Chad patted his face dry, took a step back and studied himself in the mirror. His shirt was tucked in, buttons all done up, tie in position, but he slumped with the weight of the world crushing him.

He was a detective, and needed to pull himself together, get through another day in the hope that Romeo would come back to him. In the end, he would. He had to come back.

Romeo, who could’ve been out there somewhere, driven by the darkness in his head, starting off a new countdown. A countdown Chad would’ve been responsible for.

He hissed through his clenched teeth. He couldn’t think about that, he needed to concentrate on the case, catch himself a killer to balance his love of Romeo with his need to do good, be good.

“I am in the grey,” he whispered.

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