Two for Joy - Louise Collins Page 0,63
the hospital, the place he’d just escaped from.
“You’re okay now, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“I thought you’d been sharing secrets with the killer. I thought you told them about the magpie—about you. How did he know?”
“He read the article Holly Stevenson was writing on me. I told her extra details.”
“Even the magpie?”
“No. that was curtesy of Will in the neighboring cell listening in on my dreams.”
“You dream about magpies?”
“Nearly all the time, apart from when I was with you. They stopped.”
“What did you dream when you were with me?”
“Nothing. It was like my mind was clear. It was peaceful.”
Chad sighed against his neck. “You’re actually here?”
“Yep.”
“How?”
“I had a stroke.”
Chad tugged himself from Romeo’s arms, and looked at him. “Are we dead, is this what heaven looks like?”
“Of course not. When we die, we won’t end up in the same place. This is now, we’re both alive, both here in this messed up room.”
“But your face? I didn’t think strokes did that.”
“Well, they thought I had one. In reality, I just got punched really hard in the face.”
“Jesus.” Chad gasped, shaking his head.
“Worth it to find you.”
Chad stiffened at the sound of an engine.
Romeo left him on the bed and peaked through the curtains. The outside lights had all come on, and the gate to the mansion made a whirling noise as it opened. There was another whirling noise, and the car disappeared inside one of the garage doors. Romeo hadn’t tried to hide the fact he was there, he’d left all the lights on downstairs, and he imagined the cameras fed directly to Marc’s phone.
Romeo turned back to Chad, then took a step back when he saw him curled over, hyperventilating.
“I promised you I’d not let anything happen to you.”
The front door opened. Romeo heard the crunch of broken glass. The dramatic slam of the door, then an amused shout.
“I hope you haven’t started without me!”
Romeo gritted his teeth. “Stay in here.”
He stepped out into the corridor and listened to Marc’s footsteps get louder on the stairs. Marc appeared at the other end of the corridor, smiling ear to ear. He wore a suit, his black hair was swept back. His eyes were wild, manic almost, like the inmates Romeo was marched past in the prison.
“I’ve been driving around nonstop since you escaped, hoping I’d find you.”
“Well, here I am.”
Marc pulled his phone from his pocket and wagged it pointedly. “Caught you on camera. Couldn’t believe my luck, you’d come to me. There’s so much I want to ask you.”
“Yeah?”
Marc smirked. “Yeah, like … why are you so afraid of magpies?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then why do you dream about them, call out in your sleep.”
“Like I’d tell you.”
“Don’t be like that. You went through all that trouble to escape just to meet me, right?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Well, I’m flattered Romeo. All those detectives running around like morons. Maybe it takes a killer to catch a killer.”
Romeo heard a thump behind him and flashed a look back to see Chad barely standing upright in the corridor.
“Unless you’re Chad of course. He knows how to catch a killer, but by the time that light bulb switches on in his head, the killer’s caught him.”
“You’re a fan of mine, right?” Romeo said, blocking Chad from view.
“I was, until I outdid you.”
“You’ve not outdone me.”
“I’m up to four,” he said, then reached inside his pocket. He took out what looked like a glasses case, and snapped it open, revealing the scalpel. “We’re like each other you and I, we both have our desires. You inspired me to live out my fantasy, and I’m almost done. We could do it together.”
“Do what?”
“Finally get the one that got away. Five was your target, right? I took after you, and chose five, and we both can conclude our countdowns, we can both succeed, and move on. Maybe start this all over again somewhere new.”
“You’re not touching Chad.”
Marc exhaled heavily through his nose. “I read Holly’s article on you.”
“I bet that stung, her taking over from you. Her throwing you out into the cold, never loving you the way you loved her.”
“She used me, betrayed me, and I was so angry with her, but despite wanting to, I couldn’t kill her, couldn’t hurt her.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t kill what I love.”
“Maybe we’re not so different.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I love Holly, and in some ways, I’ve got to thank her for letting me hit rock bottom to set me free, but you … you’re ill.”
“Ill?
“Holly wrote about it in