he had a second shot at life.”
“And how did that work out for him?”
“Well, from what I can recall, he was caught again, then hanged.”
“I see…”
“Still, it was only an idea.”
Romeo looked over to his bookcase. The A-Z medical dictionary. “Maybe you’re on to something.”
“Wait—what?”
“Thanks, Will, you’ve given me something to think about.”
They were treated for broken bones, blood loss, even cancer on the hospital wing. Romeo needed something that required him to visit the city hospital.
“That’s what buddies are for.”
Romeo frowned. “Buddies?”
“Yeah, we’re buddies.”
“I doubt most buddies want to kill each other.”
“Wait…what?”
“Night, Will.”
Chapter Twelve
His mother died last.
Her funeral had been packed out. There had been tributes, tears, even a few somber laughs.
Romeo played the part he was supposed to.
The grieving son.
He got more hugs, and hand squeezes that day than during the rest of his life put together.
None of them knew at that time they were reassuring a monster.
None of them were ever supposed to know.
Romeo had always seen it as getting his fix, then moving on, accepting it was his lot. He’d put it on hold, countless times in his life he struggled to keep his desire in check, but then he’d think of his mother and father, their full-glowing hearts breaking if they ever found out, if he ever got caught.
He’d held back for as long as he could, but it was more than a need. It was fate. Since he’d taken his first breath on earth, he’d always been destined to be a killer.
Chad though, wasn’t.
Romeo saw the light he lacked in Chad’s warm eyes.
That was the reason he found Chad so fascinating. Chad had enough feeling and emotion for the both of them.
****
Five days since he’d spoken to Holly Stevenson. Five days of nonstop slander and accusations from the Canster Times.
Romeo had been given back his TV but it was a curse rather than a blessing. He stared unblinking at the news report. All anyone was talking about was the Copycat Killer. The Canster Times drummed up enough interest, enough pressure, that the police had no choice but to make the case public.
A copycat killer was on the loose, and he’d killed three people. Romeo ignored their names and thought of them only as numbers. The killer had got their numbers five, four, and three. Romeo felt nothing when their faces appeared on screen. All lived in remote locations, all were reported to have been strangled in their bedrooms then branded with a number. The police didn’t reveal drugs had played a part, and the killer was taking his frustrations out on their paralyzed bodies before he killed them.
“Jesus Christ…” Will shouted. “You were right about the copycat.”
Romeo turned his TV off, but he could still hear Will’s and the murmurs of all the other TV’s along the corridor. Everyone was watching the news, transfixed by the new countdown killer.
“They’re pretty sure it’s your guy…”
Romeo rubbed his face aggressively, then dug his nails into his scalp. He’d been so eager to help Chad, he’d messed up in front of Holly Stevenson. A woman that hated Chad. A woman that worked for the Canster Times. A woman who was infatuated with Romeo to the point of obsession. She may not have been the copycat, but she was definitely dangerous.
It wasn’t just the police force that had turned on Chad, but the whole country and it was Romeo’s fault.
“Hey, it’s not all bad though.”
Romeo stopped clawing at his face. “How is there any good in this?”
“When he gets arrested, he might end up here.”
“He’s innocent.”
“Innocent people don’t run.”
“When you got arrested in that parking lot for killing those two officers, did you run?”
“Well, no.”
“From your logic you’re innocent then?”
Will sighed dramatically. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, they brought it on themselves, what was I supposed to do?
“Forget it, you’re an idiot.”
“You were only with Chad for two months, you don’t really know him.”
“I do know him. And I know he’s not capable of this.”
“But how do you know?”
Romeo released a long breath. “When I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see a monster. His eyes weren’t empty like mine. He isn’t empty.”
“Empty?”
“I used to stare at myself in the mirror, trying to force an emotion to the surface, to see it flicker in my eyes. I can fake happiness, sadness, envy, confidence, and love to anyone except myself. I knew that from when I was a child, I was different, ugly inside, and I’d never be able to hide it from myself. So many