Chapter Twenty

Blood filled the air.

The smell and the taste infected Chad's every breath.

It ran down his face, soaking into the top of his t-shirt.

The feel of it made his skin itch.

His eyes stayed shut, and he kept up his mantra of sorry even though he couldn't hear himself and Lucy could no longer hear him, too. His shoulders were up, so tense a fierce ache grew a fire in his muscles.

The gunshot had deafened him, leaving behind a loud ringing. Chad was thankful for it, without the ringing he would've heard other sounds, soft wet ones, a pitter-patter of falling blood and the heavier dull thud of Lucy hitting the ground.

Chad didn't hear it, but he felt Lucy fall from vibrations through the concrete and the sudden sunlight on his face. It was warm, but her blood was hot, and sticky in his hair.

He'd killed her.

He told himself he had to, and maybe Chad believed it, but the detective didn't.

The detective was in a state of shock at what he'd done.

He was supposed to protect the public, not blow them apart.

"Chad!"

The heavily distorted voice belonged to Romeo. He sounded far away, muffled beneath the ringing and under an ocean of white noise.

But it was Romeo, and he was calling for Chad.

He shuffled to face away from Lucy before opening his eyes and looking at Romeo on his knees. Romeo's hand clutched his bicep, stemming the flow of blood, but it didn't gush, it trickled over his fingers.

His lips moved with the shape of Chad's name, but it took longer for the sound to penetrate through the ringing, and even longer for Chad to understand. Romeo's eyes were wide, wider than Chad had ever seen, and for the briefest of seconds Chad was disappointed they weren't darker, and full of hunger for him.

It was Romeo's fantasy, Chad killing, but the reality didn't match. Instead of exciting Romeo, he looked stricken. Shuffling closer on his knees, he abandoned clutching his wounded arm, and reached a hand out for Chad.

Chad didn't know whether Romeo wanted him to pull him up, or Romeo planned to pull him down, but he didn't take his hand.

"Don't touch me."

He hadn't meant for the words to leave him sounding harsh and cold, but he suspected from Romeo's flinch they had been. Romeo didn't lower his hand, but his fingers twitched, dropping blood from their tips. He said Chad's name again, but it didn't match the movement of his mouth. His name registered in Chad's brain delayed and slowed down. Chad looked at Romeo's injured arm. Three dark puncture wounds leaked blood down his bicep.

"Chad … it's okay. Just come here."

There was a war raging in Chad's head to the soundtrack of a ringing gunshot, but both detective and Chad agreed on one thing, it wasn't okay.

"Please, Chad."

Romeo's eyebrows flexed. He looked desperate, still reaching for Chad with his bloodied hand. His knees had sunk into the dirt, and Merc pressed close to his side. Merc's tail didn't wag. He looked like he was shivering.

"She would've killed us."

And yes, Chad knew that, too—the detective knew it, but the detective would've accepted that fate. He had when he put his body between Romeo and the gun. The detective chose death.

They were damned after all for what they'd been doing, condemned to eternal suffering after they died, but Lucy had been innocent. Before she'd met Chad, she'd been innocent, but Chad had twisted her untrusting nature, made her volatile, then it only took four words from a monster. James Poole was dead. Lucy Hastings was dead. It was Chad's fault, and the detective hated him for it, the detective kept him frozen in place, looking down at Romeo.

Romeo's eyes darted, focusing somewhere in the distance. There was noise, it warped, and whined, and it made Romeo gasp and crowd closer on his knees. Chad backed away a few steps, until his heels hit something solid.

"Listen to me, Chad. She was going to kill us—"

"I could've apprehended her. I could've got the gun from her."

They both knew it was true.

Romeo stopped reaching, and curled his fingers into his t-shirt, twisting the fabric covering his heart. "You did it for me."

Chad shook his head. "I did it for us."

"Us." Romeo agreed. He nodded, never looking away from Chad. "Because it's us, it's us against everyone else."

"Chad and Romeo," Chad whispered.

"That's right."

The whining in the distance grew louder, Chad could follow the rhythm of it, it wailed with lower and higher notes in a sequence he recognized.

They were sirens, police sirens.

"Chad," Romeo reached for him again.

"Don't touch me."

Romeo's face folded in on itself. His eyes were wet, and his hand shook, but he'd misunderstood.

Chad tried again.

"You can't touch me."

Romeo frowned and lowered his hand.

"They'll swab me for blood," he said. "They'll take it from my clothes, and my shoes. None of it can be yours. You have to get inside the house, Romeo, you have to hide upstairs, you have to fix your arm."

Romeo covered the dark holes in his bicep again. "I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Romeo said. "I'll be fine, but—"

"And I will be, too. We have to fix this. We have to make this worth it."

Romeo started crawling towards the back of the house, glancing back at Chad every few feet, until he rounded the corner where Chad couldn't see him. Merc followed him with his tail tucked between his back legs.

Then it was just him.

Him and Lucy, he amended because dead or not she was still there.

The back of his feet were touching part of her. Her legs, he imagined, but he didn't turn around to look. Romeo's blood soaked into the field, blending in with the dirt. It swallowed any evidence of him being there, and the scuff mark in the ground, Chad's aching and dirty shoulder made it look like he'd dived out of the way, not been saved by Romeo.

He reached into his pocket for his keys, then tossed them to the dirt.

It didn't take long for the police cars to race up the track. The ringing in Chad's head subsided, but everything continued to sound like it was underwater, most tones lower in pitch, but a few higher, like the shout of his name that cut into him.

He turned towards it. He didn't glance down at Lucy on the ground, but he could see her at the edge of his vision, the vibrant color red glistening in the sun. Josh crashed into him, sending him back a few steps. He gripped Chad by his arms, shaking him slightly before letting go and looking at his hands.

"Shit. Holy fuck," Josh looked at him again. "Are you hurt, Chad, are you hurt?"

"No," Chad said, and his voice buzzed in his ears. When he spoke, he couldn't hear anything else, just his own lies as they left his lips, "I tried to get the gun off of her, and I don't know what happened, it went off."

Liar the detective screamed.

He winced. Josh bit his lip.

Chad didn't look down at Lucy, but he watched Josh's face as he did, it twisted with a grimace, then he was back to looking at Chad with big blue eyes.

"You did what you had to," Josh said. He nodded, until Chad copied him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay."

Josh glanced at Lucy again. "She was going to kill you, right?"

"Right."

"It was her or you, and you chose you."

You should've chosen her.

A shrill sound escaped Chad's throat.

Josh started walking towards him, arm out at his side like a barrier. "She killed James. She came here to kill you, too. She would've killed you."

Chad frowned when he realized he was walking. His feet were moving, and Josh's arm was at his back, not touching, but there to guide Chad away from Lucy, from the flashing police cars, and all the officers milling about, taking in the scene.

Lucy would've killed them. She'd tried to kill them, but she hadn't and from the moment she struggled to re-load the gun, Chad was culpable for her death. He could've stopped her, detained her, but it wouldn't have been enough to protect him and Romeo.

"James," he managed to croak.

Josh stopped, and Chad did, too. They were far enough around the house Chad could no longer see Lucy, and the scene being cordoned off.

"We got a call from his neighbor. She told officers she'd heard arguing, a woman with James, but she hadn't gone out to look who, not until she heard the shot. She didn't see Lucy, but she managed to capture her numberplate. I tried to call you."

"I know."

"I ended up calling Ally when I couldn't get through … don't be mad, I know you and her aren't—"

"We're fine," Chad said dismissively. "We sorted things."

"Thank God because she should be here soon. She called me back, said you'd told her Lucy was at your house, then she said she heard a gunshot…" Josh shook his head. "Fucking hell, Chad."

"Lucy shot the window in the front door. I dropped the phone."

Josh made a move like he was about to hug Chad, but hesitated, and instead pincer gripped Chad's shoulder with his thumb and forefinger. "I really want to hug you, but…"

"The blood," Chad finished. "We can't risk any contamination for the case."

"Case? What are you on about? It was self-defense." Josh spun around to face the back door. "Shit, Merc?"

"He's okay. He's inside."

Josh stepped away. He used the hem of his shirt to open the backdoor.

"What are you doing?" Chad asked.

"Merc!" Josh called out, and sure enough, the slow patter of feet on the stone kitchen floor followed. Merc stuck his head out the door. He was still shivering. Josh crouched down. "There you are bud," Josh said. "I would pat you, but—ya know."

"Blood," Chad finished. "So much blood."

Josh looked up at him. "I think we need to find you somewhere to sit, you're in shock."

"I'm fine—

"Chad!" Josh gasped. He widened his eyes at Merc's side. Blood had stained his fur. "Did she hurt him?"

"No. It's … It's not Merc's blood. It's not mine either."

He'd been pressed against Romeo. It was Romeo's blood. Chad scrunched his eyes shut at the images of Romeo clutching his arm, and the blood leaking through his fingers.

His bicep had been twitching.

Chad didn't know how bad the injury was, he didn't know if Romeo was upstairs unconscious.

"Chad?"

He opened his eyes. Josh was frowning at him.

"Who's blood—"

"He was out here with me. It's hers. I locked him back in the house when I heard the sirens."

"Okay," Josh said, nodding. He got to his feet, before closing the back door with his elbow. "You stay with us," he directed at Merc. "I'll even let you ride shotgun. Fuck, I didn't mean…"

Chad shook his head. "I can't leave."

"We're going to walk around the other side of the house, and we're going to sit you down in my car."

"Josh," Chad gestured to himself. The blood on his face had dried, and pinched his skin as it cracked, but his t-shirt was still wet.

"I know," Josh shot him a sad smile. "I'll put a protective sheet over the back seat."

"And the floor." Chad added. "We need to do this by the book."

"And the floor," Josh agreed with another sad smile. "We'll calm you down, then—"

"Drive me to the station. My clothes need to be bagged up, swabs need to taken … and fingerprints. My fingerprints. They'll be on the gun—"

"Yes, yes," Josh interrupted, "but first we need you checked out by the doctor."

"I told you I'm not hurt."

"You're acting pretty spacey. It's scaring me if I'm honest."

"Sorry."

"No," Josh sighed. "Don't be sorry, Chad. I don't know how to help you that's all. Come on."

Chad let Josh lead him around the side of the house. He counted five police cars, no longer screeching, but their blue lights continued to flash. The DI approached, thought better of gripping Chad's shoulder, and instead did a once over with his eyes.

"Are you—"

"I'm not hurt," Chad told him. "None of this is mine."

"Ally's here," Josh said, pointing in the direction of her car. Someone shouted for the DI. He groaned before telling them he'd be right back.

Ally hurried over to them, and hugged Chad tight.

"You can't," Chad said, not embracing her back. "The blood."

"I don't give a shit about the blood," she let go, "unless any of it's yours."

"It's not."

"Good," she nodded. "That's good. You need to sit down."

"I'm fine."

"You look about ready to pass out."

Josh opened the back door of his car. "I did try to tell him." He kneeled on the backseat, and reached over to grab a plastic sheet.

"You need to sit," Ally told Chad.

"We're all ready for you," Josh said, patting the plastic on the seat.

Chad walked over, and side-saddled the seat leaving his legs on the ground. He tipped forward, catching his head in his hands. He brushed his bloodied hands through his blood slick hair. There wasn't enough to drip down his face, but he could feel it collecting on his sideburns, irritating the fine hairs. Most of the blood had sprayed his face and ran down the side of his neck, soaking his t-shirt.

Ally rubbed the back of his neck. Josh crowded in close, blocking him from the sight of the other officers. Merc sat on the ground in front of them, occasionally swiping his tail back and forth with nerves. Chad didn't know how long they stayed like that. His shoulders throbbed, his neck ached, and the scent of blood had his stomach rolling.

"I really fucked up this time."

Ally tried to lift his head, but when he refused, she crouched down to look at him. "You didn't."

"I played right into Vincent's hands. He knew I'd look, he knew I'd investigate, and I did, I investigated Lucy. I grew suspicious of her, and she knew it. She felt let down, trapped, angry and then it only took four words from his twisted mouth."

"Four words?" Josh asked.

"I didn't kill Harriet." Ally said. "That's what he said to Chad, that's what he said to Lucy, if James was still alive, I imagine he would've told us Vincent had said the same to him, too."

"He admitted it," Josh whispered. "He actually—"

"It doesn't matter." Ally snapped.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"He only said that to stir up trouble, who knows whether he was telling the truth or not. He wanted a reaction. Three out of four didn't take the bait, but it only takes one."

"Wait…" Josh's shoes scuffed the ground as he pressed himself closer. "What do you mean out of four?"

"I meant three." Ally said. "Two out of three, but it only takes one, and that was Lucy."

Chad exhaled at the ground. "I pushed her towards it."

"She was a grown assed woman, she made her choice. She chose to believe Vincent and then she chose to gun down James and come here to do the same to you. She was weak."

Chad lifted his head. "Don't start this again. You said that about Tate, too."

"Well, he was. They both were. They let a serial killer into their heads."

"So did I!"

"This isn't about Romeo—"

"I'm not talking about Romeo, I'm talking about Vincent. I should've kept him out. I shouldn't have gone to see him again. You tried to tell me, Ally, but I didn't listen and I thought … I thought I was smarter than him."

She looked away.

"And now James and Lucy are dead."

"It's not your fault."

Chad ran his fingers though his hair again. It was no longer slick, but tacky.

The DI strolled over, and Josh backed off enough to include him in their human box around Chad. He pressed his lips together in a grim line, lowering his gaze to his shoes. "Are you ready to go down to the station?"

Ally stood up. "He needs to be checked over by a doctor."

The DI nodded.

"I need to get out of these clothes as soon as possible. I need to shower, I need to wash my hair," Chad swallowed. "I need to get the smell of blood out of my nose. That's what I need, Ally, not a doctor,"

"Okay," she said softly.

Chad looked up at the house. Most of all, he needed to know Romeo was all right. He needed to know he'd be there when he got back.

If he got back.