When I nod, pity shows on the officer’s face and she puts her hands behind her back. “I think he’s going to do the interrogation shortly but if you want, I’ll tell him that I’ll be doing it instead.”
Jerking, my eyes flare and I sit up straighter. “What? Why? No, I want the detective.”
She regards me with a strange look in her eyes. “I thought you’d might want a women. Byrne is a male after all and he’s better at interrogating criminals than victims.”
“I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor,” I say in a soft voice. “Please let him in.”
The officer glances at me, looking like she’s about to convince me otherwise but then she nods and walks out of the door. There’s some tinted glass on the door and I can see a couple of figures standing outside. I can hear them talking.
“The girl wants you, Byrne,” the female officer sighs. “Tried to convince her to go with me, thought it would be easier for her but she seems desperate for your presence. Not sure about what you did to her but I’m sure that I don’t like it.”
“Noted,” my detective rasps, sounding like he couldn’t care less and I tense when the door opens and the two men that I ran into, walk inside. “Melody,” he says in a low voice, “I’m detective Callan Byrne and this is my colleague Harvey Racket.”
He nods at the other guy who’s shorter than him and his thickset muscles make him look meaty and compact. Not at all similar to Callan who is tall and mostly consists of brawns and sharp edges. He’s older than me, maybe in his late thirties or early forties and he looks like he’s lived a hard life.
But it only makes me feel drawn to him even more. He is the kind of male that could do horrible things but chooses not to. He’s a hero in a worn out coat and slight streams of silver in his hair but to me he might as well be coated in gold. I’ll never forget the way he held on to me, before I passed out and I will forever be grateful to him because of it.
“We need to speak to you,” Callan continues, “do you think you have the strength to hear us out?”
“Yes,” I nod, “I want to help. I want you to find him, I want to see him end up in prison...” I trail off, a shaking going through my body and then I start shivering so much that my mind starts going blank. Looking at me with concern, Callan takes off his coat and drapes it around my shoulders and I gaze up at him, our eyes meeting and I never want us to look away.
And we don’t, not until Detective Racket clears his throat and I sharply look down, biting my lip from the turmoil of emotions inside of me. Sitting across from me, but pulling his chair closer, Callan asks,
“I know this is hard but you have to tell us everything you can about the man who kidnapped you.”
Callan’s voice is strained as if hatred is steaming in him. Hatred of what? Over what Romeo did to me? Does he hate all criminals with the same passion or just this one? Either way, his odium fills me with courage, makes it a little easier to sit through this when I would rather just crawl into my bed and sleep for days.
I haven’t had any sleep lately and I must look horrible. No, I know I look horrible which is why I don’t know why Callan can’t keep his eyes off me. And I can’t keep mine off him either but I don’t want to stare. He’s probably used to people staring at him, inspecting the scars and making up all kinds of stories of what could have happened.
This man knows darkness.The thought crosses my mind like an intruder and I jerk, my knees twitching and suddenly I want to weep. Inwardly I struggle for control. I don’t know what just came over me, maybe I’m simply overly sensitive right now.
Refocusing, I look into Callan’s eyes with those golden pecks that shimmer like gold and I swallow, “He took me to Hangman’s Beach...” I begin, my voice still hoarse and it still hurts to speak but Callan’s colleague, Harvey interrupts me.
“We already know that,” he drawls, “the detectives are already inspecting the area.”
Callan slowly turns his head around at his colleague and whatever it is that Harvey sees in his eyes it has to be scary because he cowers. Callan turns to me again, adding softly,
“Continue.”
“He put me in a cave, there was a bed in there and he tied me to it.” I swallow, my eyes flaring when I notice that Callan has closed his. And it is like he is there with me. Reliving the horrors with me. I swallow again. “I think that he’s had other women there too.”
The detectives exchange a glance.
“He never spoke but he wrote messages on the wall,” I continue and my hands start trembling, “I saw other messages too, ones he didn’t write to me. Ones he must’ve written to the other girls he kept there.”
Looking down at my lap, I clench my jaw. “It’s him isn’t it? The one who’s responsible for the deaths of those young women?”
“We believe so, aye,” Callan rasps and I clutch my fists and I don’t dare to meet his gaze, feeling too bad about myself.
“I know why he chose me,” I suddenly say and then my voice breaks, “it’s because of the name, isn’t it? Because he thought my name was Juliet?”
“Why do you think that?” Harvey says tensely and I stare at them.
“You don’t know?” I stare back at them. “You don’t know that he calls himself Romeo?”
They exchange stiff glances, proving my point. They didn’t know that he calls himself Romeo but they knew he only chooses Juliet’s and tears prickle my eyes.
“Tell me the truth, tell me I’m right about the name.” I shake my head, burying it in my hands. “I shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t have...this is all my fault...”