Two for Joy - Louise Collins Page 0,56
closer to Romeo. He was no more than a meter away, and completely unaware a serial killer lurked in the ditch ahead. The man tugged the zipper of his pants open, then relieved himself against a tree with a blissful sigh.
Romeo climbed out of the ditch, the man’s eyes went wide with panic, and he tried to scramble away, but ended up tripping. Romeo rammed him into the dirt, straddling him to pin him down.
“Stay still or I’ll kill you.” Romeo warned.
“What do you want?”
“Your car. I need your car … now hands behind your back.”
“What?”
Romeo shoved his face into the dirt. “Hands at your back.”
The man obliged. His hands were trembling wildly as Romeo tied them together with duct tape. Romeo shuffled down his body, then wrapped his ankles, then knees together.
“Perfect.” Romeo said. “Where’s your keys?”
“R—right side pocket.”
Romeo patted his legs down, feeling the keys. He pulled them out, then grinned clutching them. “You’ve been a great help.” He said, before slapping a strip of duct tape over the man’s mouth.
He struggled, flailed, then Romeo sighed, and rolled him into the ditch with his foot.
****
Romeo was hoping Neil’s house would be the first one he came across, but a peek in the letterbox told him otherwise. Mr Daniel Smith. He got back in the stolen car and carried on up the road. He rolled down his window and heard yapping at the next house.
Neil hated dogs.
He put his foot down on the gas when he heard laughing in the next yard. They were having a party, the smell of the barbeque carried straight to Romeo’s nose and he whined. He needed food, he needed water, and he needed to get out of his soaked-in-mud clothes. He looked down at his sneakers, no longer pristine white like when he first escaped the hospital, but caked in mud.
Romeo pulled up next to one of the houses, parking on the grass verge. There was no letter box to check for a name, he was relying purely on his memory.
Dark beams, a double garage, he parked the car at the side of the road and went for a closer look. He peered through the bars, then gasped. In front of the garage was a Porsche, a Porsche with a glowing license plate.
Romeo laughed.
Chad’s ex liked glow-in the dark license plates. The Porsche was different, newer than the one he’d shoved Chad into, and a different color, but still Neil insisted on a glow in the dark plate.
He’d found the right house, but needed to get inside. The gate was taller, armed with a nasty set of spikes, but the walls it was attached to were less sinister. No barbed wire or spikes, Romeo just needed the help of the trees to get over them.
He landed as silently as he could, but the jolting movement sent pain crashing through his head, and into his cheek. Romeo fought off a tidal wave of nausea as he staggered towards the door. He hoped Neil was well stocked with painkillers.
The front door wasn’t locked, Romeo winced, expecting it to creak and announce his presence, but it didn’t. He stepped inside the house, leaving muddy footsteps in his wake. He could hear breaking glass, blaring guns, then some Hollywood-style one liner.
Neil was sitting in the living room with his back to Romeo. The lights were low, Romeo could smell coffee, and spied the cup on the table along with some expensive take-out box.
More guns, and a ridiculous knife throw. The Hollywood hero was shirtless for no obvious reason, covered in sweat, and ripped with muscles. Tall, dark and handsome, ticking all the boxes. He had the villain pinned out on a pool table. The villain with a scar down his face, missing teeth, messy hair.
Romeo rolled his eyes. “So cliché…”
Neil went from lounging in his chair, to sitting up stiff as a board. Romeo didn’t give him a chance to turn, he rushed up behind him, tightened his arm around Neil’s neck, and choked him until he passed out.
He laid Neil out on the floor, used the duct tape to bound his ankles and wrists, then stuck a strip across Neil’s face. He couldn’t ignore the pounding headache any longer, abandoned Neil on the floor, and went to search his kitchen for painkillers.
He found some in a basket in the cupboard, downing the white pills of relief with some water. His stomach gurgled, and he remembered it had been far too long since he’d eaten anything.
He wrinkled