Two for Joy - Louise Collins Page 0,62
still shaking with some emotional overload.
Romeo’s mind went back to a funeral. Not the first with his nanny when he learned he felt nothing, not his mother’s, the last one he’d been to, but his father’s.
He’d never seen his mother cry that hard. Never seen someone’s eyes fog over forever. Never seen her shake, or her voice wobble. She’d walked to the front of the church, piece of paper in hand, about to speak about her husband, Romeo’s father. She’d struggled, the beginning had been indecipherable, and Romeo had stood up, prepared to read to spare her any further upset. She’d held up her hand to stop him, then asked him to sit down, said she needed to do it.
She dabbed her eyes, then spoke about love. The love she felt for her husband, Romeo’s father.
Love was different for everyone, indescribable, unmeasurable, alien to define, alien to understand, but special, powerful, a force greater than life and death, and even though Romeo knew at an early age, he’d never understand it how everyone else did, he saw it, and he protected it despite what his brain told him.
He’d seen his mother’s and father’s love for each other. No manipulation, no ulterior motive, a true love, and rather than destroy their happiness and love by admitting what he was, and giving in to the darkness in his head, he kept his demons at bay to preserve it, an emotion he didn’t understand, but knew was special. He’d promised his mother if he found it, he’d never let it go, not believing for one second, he would, but with Chad burrowing into his chest, he realized he had.
His messed up, twisted version of it anyway.
He kissed Chad’s hair and let out a content hum.
“What—what are you thinking about?” Chad asked.
“Love.”
“Love?”
“Yeah, and how utterly ridiculous and confusing it is, but no less precious.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one who’s lost his mind?”
Romeo snorted. “I always hated my name. Romeo, named after a character from some tragic romance, but here I am, starring in my own version. We’ve fallen for each other despite being from different sides of the track, and for one heart-stopping second, I thought you were dead.”
Chad leaned back, then touched Romeo’s swollen cheek. “Would you have joined me?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I’m your Juliet then…” he smiled, despite his trembling lip, “O Romeo, Romeo—”
“Please don’t say I make you foam-eo.”
Chad scrunched his face and started to laugh. It was more a splutter than a laugh, but it reached his eyes, and through the tears, and redness, Romeo saw them brighten. He pulled his gaze from Chad’s face, and looked at his chest, the numbers, big and small, all different angles, some of them were dripping. His whole torso looked red raw sore, all apart from a patch in front of his heart. The place where a number one was to be branded.
“Marc Wilson.” He mumbled.
Chad shuddered. “It was a gut feeling. The articles he wrote about you, it was more than shock and horror to sell newspapers, there was obsession, envy, excitement. He had offered Neil all sorts to get information on the case. Neil told me he had a Jekyll and Hyde personality. He’d been at the first crime scene, sniffing out a story he said, but the DI told him it was a tragic accident, a live wire in the wall. He’d set up James with the drugs months ago, knew he’d fallen on bad times, knew his electricity had been cut and those cameras weren’t operational. I know it was stupid to confront him.”
“More than stupid, moronic. Hadn’t you learned from the first time?”
“No one would’ve believed me. I didn’t have any real evidence, just my gut. They’d all turned on me, everyone turned on me.”
“I know.” Romeo said, raking his hand up into Chad’s hair and pulling him into a firm hug.
“I drove here, the place was empty, and I thought I’d have a look around, see if I could find any evidence. The articles, the cigars. Next thing I know, a needle’s being shoved in my neck, and I woke up in the garage, chained to the bed.”
“I tried to fight him, but I think he’s been drugging the water. I feel so weak.”
Romeo glanced at the glass on the bedside table. He wasn’t sure the water was responsible for the weakness, he’d seen the bed, the red stains Chad’s body had hidden. His grip on Romeo was softening, his eyelids were drooping. Chad needed to be in