Chapter Nine

Chad covered his nose as he stepped into the kitchen. The ripe smell of death still snuck through his fingers and invaded his nostrils. Romeo didn't seem to notice, pushing something around in the frying pan.

Merc bolted to his side, dripping drool.

"What the hell is that?" Chad asked, rushing over to open the window by the sink.

"Lambs liver."

"And why are you cooking that?"

"Lambs liver, dog's dinner," Romeo snorted. "Cockney rhyming slang."

He continued to push the liver around the pan.

It hissed in the oil.

Chad gagged as the smell intensified.

Vincent had spoken about the liver. He'd said it was his favorite organ to dissect, the strongest smelling and the smoothest in his hands.

Chad hovered his head by the window, counting to ten.

"I'm not eating that," he croaked.

"It's not for you. I'm making dog treats. There are lots of recipes online, but this had the best rating."

"I didn't know dogs could use computers."

Romeo waved the wooden spoon at him. "Is that you trying to be funny again? You'll have to try a lot harder than that to make me laugh."

Chad leaned away from the window and patted Merc on the head, but Merc was too distracted watching Romeo's every move. He licked his lips and pleaded his case with big watering eyes, but Romeo stayed unaffected by such tactics.

"Hello, Mercutio." Romeo said. "Good day?"

The only reply came in the form of a tusk of slobber hitting the tiled floor.

Romeo breathed in deep when Chad approached. "You smell of sweat and dirt," he looked Chad up and down, "Not to mention you're covered in it."

"Me and Josh had a kickabout in the park. Until Merc popped the ball."

Romeo smirked. "I'll have to add a football to the list." He switched the stove off and turned his attention to Merc. "It needs to cool, and then we can cut it up, and use it as treats."

"Treats to do what?"

"To teach him not to chase our magpie friends."

"Friends," Chad snorted, shaking his head.

"And to give up precious tea-towels if he gets hold of them."

"Still haven't forgiven him?"

"I've not forgiven you."

Chad laughed, only to regret it when the cooked liver infected the breath. His mind went straight back to Vincent's files.

"It doesn't smell that bad."

"It does, but I've got a solution … coffee?" "Chad said, slipping past Romeo. "And we're taking it in the other room."

"Why?"

Chad twitched his nose as an answer.

"Fine," Romeo said. "At least the dog doesn't moan about my cooking, he whimpers for it."

Chad prepared their coffees in the magpie mugs. Romeo hummed his approval and took hold of his. He rubbed his thumb against one. "Coffee tastes better in these mugs."

"It tastes exactly the same."

"Oh, I bought something else. It's in the living room."

Chad groaned. "Perhaps I'll have my coffee outside then and not have to deal with it."

"Come on," Romeo said, steering him by the elbow. "I think you'll like it."

Chad dragged his feet as he followed, before hesitating in the living room doorway. A small package sat in the center of the coffee table. "It better not be magpie related."

Romeo raised an eyebrow. "Open it."

Chad trudged into the living room and set his mug down on the coffee table. "Am I going to hate it?"

"Have you ever hated anything I've bought?"

"Yes," Chad pointed at one of the magpie cushions. "I hate that for starters."

"Open it, Chad."

He sighed and tore into the package. At first, he thought it was a leather belt, smooth on the inside and rougher on the out with thick stitching along the top and bottom, but it was small, and the brass buckle shone. Chad captured the silver heart swinging down.

Mercutio.

"You … you bought him a collar?"

"I know he's got one, but this … this is a little more luxurious."

Chad clutched the collar. A lump formed in his throat, and he tried to swallow it down to speak. "Let's put it on him."

Chad adjusted the buckle around Merc's neck. The silver heart hung down. It rattled when Merc shook his head.

Chad couldn't turn to Romeo, he couldn't even pinpoint why he kept his back to him.

"Chad. Hey … it's just a dog collar."

"It isn't any dog's collar, it's Merc's."

"Well, Mercutio's. That's what you called him…"

"I know, but I got home and you're making him treats—I mean, you're banned from cooking liver ever again, but still, knowing you're doing that for him, and then I see the collar you bought him, and wow." Chad's eyes burned. He blinked back the fire, unsure where the wave of emotion was coming from. "Today has been … up and down."

"Not to mention you're running on about twenty minutes' sleep."

"You know about that?"

"Of course I know when you haven't been sleeping. Is it Marc again?"

Chad bit the inside of his cheek. "It's Tate."

Romeo nodded.

"And it's Vincent," Chad shook his head. "Let's say you're right—"

"I'm always right."

"Then who did kill her?"

"That's what we're going to find out and then we're going flaunt it in his face before he dies. No one messes with my Juliet and gets away with it. He wants to ruin your name by giving you an unsolvable case, well, we're going to damage his reputation by taking away one of his body count."

****

"Chad!"

His body jostled harshly, and he blinked a wide-eyed Romeo back into focus. He reached for Romeo, attempting a reassuring pat on his shoulder, but missed and hit Romeo in the throat. The bed bounced as Romeo held him upright.

"Sleep'n," Chad slurred, "I was asleep."

He blinked in quick succession, trying to work out where he was. The last thing he remembered, they'd been in the outhouse, and he'd been telling Romeo about James's outbursts, Lucy's fragile state, and the fact the two of them couldn't stand each other.

"I've been trying to wake you," Romeo growled.

Chad turned his head. He'd changed position, no longer propped up against Romeo's chest, he lay in his arms, blinking blearily up at the ceiling. Romeo's chest rose and fell harshly, and his pressing gaze stayed unblinking. His concern had returned, along with a slight flare of his nostrils, and hard-set eyes.

"Only a dream." Chad held onto Romeo's shoulder, but his squeeze did nothing to release the tension in Romeo's muscles.

"Another bad one." Romeo's arms snaked around Chad, pulling him closer.

"Sorry."

Chad took in the bedroom. He had a vague recollection of stumbling up there and brushing his teeth.

"Don't apologize for something you can't control. I hate that your mind is cruel when you're trying to rest." He tore his gaze from Chad. "I think I scared Mercutio shouting for you."

Chad leaned up with Romeo's arms still coiled around him and spied Merc in the doorway. He crept closer, only to scuttle back again.

"I'm okay."

Merc stepped slowly across the room before vaulting on the bed. He accepted strokes from Chad, but sniffed Romeo's hand, before licking his fingers.

Romeo sighed and patted Merc on the head. "Sorry, Mercutio."

"That's him saying he forgives you."

"Have you told Keeley about the dreams?"

Chad swallowed. "No."

"Chad…"

"I know, but they're just dreams, it's not like she can help."

"The whole point of her is to help. I thought she was."

"She is, but…" Chad groaned. "I doubt she can help with the dreams."

Romeo's nostrils flared. "She needs to know."

"I'm not taking medication."

"Maybe there's something else. Please, Chad."

"I'm handling it."

"If you could see the expression on your face when you're having one, you'd know it wasn't merely a dream. Not to mention I have to shout the house down to wake you. Even I know that isn't normal."

Chad shrugged, nonchalant. "But I'm not normal, that's why you love me."

"Chad…"

"Okay, fine," Chad said. "I will at my next session."

"Good. Do you remember anything from this one?"

Chad touched his temple. He recalled a droning voice. It was still there, only too soft to decipher a single word, but it made him uncomfortable. It made his skin itch. He shook his head. "I think it's…"

"Yes?" Romeo gave him an encouraging poke.

"Reading those transcribes."

"What's wrong with them?"

"I-I didn't think he'd be able to recall his crimes in that much detail. I didn't think he'd be so … graphic. It's sick. He's sick. I've interviewed a lot of killers over the years, but never has anyone recalled their crimes with that much … hunger."

Romeo chuckled.

"It's not funny, Romeo."

"I know. The terror of it all is the high he's chasing. His victim's terror, those that discover them, the press, the public. It's theatre, pantomime, it's the same then as it is now, and those two detectives in the room, they're part of it. He enjoys their unease, their disgust. He's caught but he wants to drag those feelings out for as long as he can. It's pathetic really."

Chad's insides squirmed. "You said you remember the details of what you did."

Romeo looked away. He inflated with a deep breath. "Do you actually want me to answer that."

Chad nodded.

"Yes. I remember."

Words failed Chad. Romeo seemed to mistake the silence for the opportunity of proof.

"Number five…"

Fuck. Chad squeezed his eyes shut.

"He asked if I was hungry, I had toast from his kitchen, salty butter, seeded bread. I only ate half after a chia seed got stuck between my teeth."

Chad ran his tongue around his mouth as if he could feel it, too. The bite of buttery toast, and the irritating seed jamming between his teeth.

"Number four. I remember the wet, roughness of his dog's tongue against my hand as I went inside," he stroked his hand down Merc's back, "I wiped it on my pants."

Chad held his hand out to Merc, who licked his knuckles.

"Number three. Her cloggy perfume, at first it was faint, but when she came out of the bathroom, she'd resprayed herself and reapplied her nude lipstick. Number two. The picturesque cottage with dark beams, and a tiny door she warned me about so I didn't hit my head going inside. I still did, though." He touched the top of his head. "I can remember that throb."

Chad could see it behind his eyes—Romeo ducking to follow his victim into her home, and catching the top of his head. Was she concerned or did she laugh it off and tell him he should've listened?

"Four different light switches in four different homes, and the click they made when I turned them off."

"Stop," Chad whispered. "I can't … I can't listen to any more." He shifted away from Romeo an inch.

Romeo didn't try to pull him back. "Detail is vital to people with a dark infliction like me. If I couldn't recall what I've done, I wouldn't be able to control it as well as I can. We're monsters, but even monsters need control—they need rules, and boundaries."

"Do you think about them a lot? The four?"

"Less so now I have an outlet."

"And when you do, how does it make you feel?"

Romeo sighed. "I know you want me to say bad, or guilty, or remorseful, but the truth is I don't. My brain isn't wired for those emotions. When I look back, it's like the build up to a moment."

"The moment you kill them?"

"Yeah. Vincent values the spectacle, and the terror that comes from it over the act of ending a life. I'm the opposite. Ending a life is the thrill I seek. It's what the monster inside me craves."

Chad picked a thread coming from the duvet. He pulled it, until Romeo reached out and snapped it.

"I keep the details of other things, too. Nice things."

"Like what?"

"Well," Romeo leaned in to kiss Chad's nose, "the taste of your kisses, of your skin, of your cum."

"Romeo!"

Chad blushed and shoved him in the chest. Romeo smirked. "It's true. The sound of your laugh, your outraged huffs, and that weird clicking sound you make when you're asleep, which should be irritating, but it's kind of adorable."

"I do not make a clicking sound."

"Your scent on my clothes. The smell of your hair gel when you put in far too much. Your sweat mixing with the smell of earth when we've been digging in the field. Your smile, your eyes, the shape of your lips when you tell me you love me."

"Sometimes you can be a sappy bastard."

Romeo chuckled. "Your hand in mine. Your lips on mine. My hands stroking over your skin, over the scars Marc left behind and the scarless patch in front of your heart."

"They must bother you."

"What?"

"The scars on my skin."

Romeo's eyebrow dipped over dark eyes. He brushed his hand over Chad's cotton t-shirt. "The scars are a reminder of what I almost lost, and how close I was to losing it. They are part of you now, part of the man I love." He stopped roaming his hand across Chad's t-shirt and pressed his palm to Chad's thumping heart. "Marc didn't stop this. It still beats in your chest, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure it stays that way. I won't let anyone stop it. It's mine."

"Yours to stop."

"No, mine to keep going."

You're gonna die at the hands of a serial killer.

Chad thought better than mentioning Ally's premonition and gave Romeo a weak smile.

"But my point is, I think about you far more than I think about murder. I remember details of you in more clarity than them. Vincent only has terror, that's all that made him feel in his life, but I have you, who has done the impossible and made me feel more than murder." Romeo gestured to the window. "And don't forget the others out there in our field, I think about them, too. The killers we killed together and the sex we had afterwards."

The blush in Chad's cheeks flared again.

"Don't you reminisce over past cases?" Romeo asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"They're not the kind of things you look back at with any fondness. People died, most of them violently, painfully, and their families have been ripped apart."

"Surely there's some pride? Some sense of satisfaction?" Romeo narrowed his eyes slightly.

"It's not enough. It's never enough."

"Enough of what? What's the end goal?"

"I have no idea." Chad shrugged. "Just to keep proving my worth."

"You don't need to prove a thing."

"I guess we'll agree to disagree."

"No. I'm right, and you're wrong. Now lay down and go back to sleep."

"Can Merc stay on the bed tonight?"

Romeo grunted. "This is the first, and last time…"

Chad pressed a quick kiss to Romeo's lips. "We'll see."