Two for Joy - Louise Collins Page 0,64
the article, Lima syndrome, Chad’s exploited your illness to feel powerful. He’s taking advantage of your condition.”
“That’s all love is—a condition people suffer from. The best definition I’ve heard for it, different symptoms for everyone, different intensities, different durations.”
“No. Chad poisoned your head, he’s a tumor, and he needs to be cut out for you to be free again.” Marc frowned in sympathy. “But I can only help you if you let me.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“We’re the same. You’re evil, on the bad side, and I’m right there beside you, but Chad’s a good guy, the opposition. The side we’re pitted against.”
“You’re right, he is a good guy.”
“And we’re bad ones. I can see it in your eyes, you know he has to die for you to be free. He’s weak, we won’t even have to drug him to do it.”
“We?”
Marc nodded, cutting the scalpel through the air. “We can take him out together. I’ll even let you strangle him before I slit his throat. I’ll make a pretty picture out of him.”
Romeo heard Chad backing off, down the corridor, knocking the picture frames off the wall as he went. Romeo turned just in time to see him retreat into the bedroom, eyes wide with fear.
“Come on,” Marc said getting closer. “Let’s do it.”
“No.”
“Chad’s gonna be my greatest piece of art.”
“He’s not gonna be your anything.”
“All those numbers I’ve carved into his flesh. Watching his big watering eyes while I did it and he was unable to move. Completely paralyzed, but he could feel every one of those cuts. I’m not finished. I’m gonna do his back, his face, his legs. Then cut out—not burn—the number one into his chest before slitting his throat.”
“As I keep saying, you’re not touching him.”
“It’ll be the scalpel that touches him. Cuts him up, peels back his skin like an orange. He’s going to look beautiful.”
Romeo couldn’t hide the disgust from his face. Marc’s gleeful smile dropped, and he stopped waving the scalpel. “I’ve got to say, I’m rather disappointed.”
“They say you should never meet your heroes.”
“Strangling your victims to death, where’s the art? Where’s the gore, and the blood that everyone reads about?”
“It isn’t about gore, or blood, or art.” Romeo growled, tapping his head. “It’s about silencing this, giving it what it wants.”
“People say they don’t like violence, it scares them, disgusts them, but you should see how many newspapers sell out. I helped to share your countdown, bring it to the masses. They wanted to read about it, they wanted to visualize it, and this time I’ll be the one to deliver it. No longer sitting behind my computer desk, but the monster in the article.”
He took a step closer, looking Romeo up and down. “The question is, whose side are you really on, Romeo? Are you the monster you claim to be?”
“Maybe I’m not a complete monster after all.”
“How disappointing.”
Marc rushed Romeo, swiping the blade through the air. He lifted his arm to cover his face, and the blade sliced through sprinkling the white wall with red. Romeo tried to grab Marc’s wrist, but he struggled with only one working eye, didn’t grab him cleanly, and Marc slipped away. The scalpel sliced into Romeo’s bad cheek, making him cry out, stumbling back.
“I’m gonna kill you, and then I’m gonna kill him. Nice and slow.”
“You’re not getting anywhere near him.”
Marc slammed him into a door, it swung open, and Romeo staggered back, losing his footing. He landed on a mattress, and Marc was on him, scalpel held in both hands, trying to slit Romeo’s throat. Romeo grabbed his wrists, tried to pry his hands away, but Marc wasn’t giving up, Romeo could see the triumph in his face, the upturn of his lips, the snarl.
He was going to die at the hands of another killer, a killer he’d inspired. The blade cut into his throat, he battled for his life, to stop Marc from forcing the blade across, but his hands were slipping.
Then Chad was there, involved in the tussle. He hooked his arm around Marc’s neck, and yanked him back, cutting off Marc’s air supply. Chad tightened his grip until Marc’s eyes rolled into his head, he stopped fighting with Romeo, dropped the scalpel, then propelled himself backwards, knocking his head into Chad’s face. Chad hit the ground with a thud. Marc gasped, wheezed, then looked for the scalpel on the mattress.
Before he could reclaim it, Romeo was on him, hands around Marc’s neck. He was physically drained, but