Two for Joy - Louise Collins Page 0,69
the bed. The cuff clunked, and he yanked weakly at it, then sobbed. “You can’t leave me here. You can’t turn your back on me, too.”
“This is how it has to be Chad.”
Romeo couldn’t bear to stand there any longer and watch Chad break down. He turned his back on him, closed the door then hurried down the corridor.
Chapter Nineteen
Chad called for him, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. There was a thump from the bedroom, the sound of something scraping the floor, Romeo suspected Chad was using his last dregs of strength to drag the bed, but he didn’t stop to find out. He rushed down the stairs into the kitchen and found Marc’s house phone.
He knew the number for the station reception, had called it enough when complaining about the graffiti. He held it to his ear and tried to block out the sound of Chad sobbing for him. He ignored the sensation in his chest, like someone stabbing his heart with a corkscrew, and waited for the call to connect.
“Hello?”
“Is this Zac by any chance?”
“No, but I can put him on for you.”
“Thank you.”
He tapped his foot on the floor as he waited, then shut the kitchen door so he couldn’t hear Chad shouting his name.
“Hi, this i—”
“It’s Romeo.”
“Romeo…” Zac gasped.
He hummed. “Yeah, I thought you’d be interested to know the copycat was Marc Wilson. I’ve killed him at his house. Chad’s here, too, and he really needs some medical attention. I also left Neil tied up at his place and a man tied up in a layby near the Oston turn off. Hope you’ve got all that, bye.”
He hung up, tossed the phone aside. Chad called for him, and the urge to yell at him to shut up came and went. Chad didn’t understand that Romeo was doing was for the best, it was the only option.
He unhooked one of Marc’s coats from the entrance hall and stole a pair of expensive trainers before leaving the house.
Zac would get people there fast. Chad would be okay. But no matter how many times he repeated it in his head, it still hurt to leave him. His mother made him promise not to let love go if he found it, but he was running from it, leaving it behind when it was injured, and crying out for him to fix it.
He couldn’t.
Short term pain, for long term gain, that was how he needed to think of it.
Romeo opened the gate, then ran along the road to get to the Porsche.
He prayed it still worked after wedging it between the grass verge, and a thorn bush. It thankfully started, and after a few wheel spins, and squeals, Romeo managed to reverse back on the road.
He put his foot down, aiming to get as far from Hatton as he could.
The roads were empty that early in the morning, Romeo made good mileage towards his destination. He switched the radio on, waiting to hear something other than Chad’s devastated calls for him echoing in his head.
The Porsche guzzled through fuel at an alarming rate. Romeo feared it wouldn’t make the journey, but when he saw the sign to his destination, he let out a relieved sigh.
Chad would forgive him one day.
****
His destination was the coast, the high cliffs of Dover to be exact. A hotspot, but not for the sea or sand, or sight, but the drop. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before, ending it all, but the monster in him felt cheated by such thoughts. The one person the monster forbid him to kill was himself.
Until Chad came along.
He stopped the Porsche right at the edge, then opened the door to hear the crashing waves below. The sound reminded him of harsh breathing, struggling, rasping. He stared ahead at the endless darkness, and his mind sunk into the past.
The last conversation he’d ever have with his mother. She lay in her bed, frail from illness. She knew death was upon her, and her last wish had been to die at home, in the bed she shared with her husband. Romeo had pinned pictures to the walls on her instruction. The three of them together, years gone by displayed around them.
Romeo looked after her right to the end. When she could barely open her eyes, he described the photos to her. When she could no longer feed herself, he did. He helped her to the bathroom, then back into bed, as often as she needed. It