Page 79 of Five for Silver

“A stab?”

Romeo hummed. “Like he did with James andhis daughter, a little stab to see what reaction he could get. Heprobably wanted you to correct him, that way it would’ve remindedyou that I, the man you were unfortunate enough to fall in lovewith, was dead and you were responsible for it.”

Chad sat up so fast he got a headrush. “Myfault? How the hell is it my fault?”

“You’re the reason I got locked up, escaped,and concluded my countdown with Marc. I committed suicide becauseI’d finished what I’d started. Hence, your fault—”

“Hey, wait just a minute—”

“Chad. You do know I’m not actually dead,right?”

“Yeah, well.” He collapsed back down. “Istill don’t like the assumption that you’re dead because of me,even if it’s not true.”

Romeo allowed a small smile. He relaxed hisdeath hold on his biceps a fraction.

“And what was it he said, ‘Psychopaths can’tlove, they can’t feel…”

“They’re just very good at manipulatingnaïve people into thinking they do.” Chad finished. He stoppedtracing the magpie picture on the cushion when another lapse ofsilence fell over them. This time, he didn’t get a chance for hismind to wander, not with Romeo frowning at him.

“What?” Chad asked. “What have I donenow?”

“Psychopaths can’t love, they can’t feel,but they’re very good at manipulating naïve people into thinkingthey can. That’s what you told me he said the first time—”

“And that’s what I said.”

“No. You changedcanfordo.”

“Christ,” Chad growled, rolling into theback of the sofa. Romeo clutched Chad by the shoulder and pulledhim back again so they were looking at each other, albeit Chadstruggled to meet Romeo’s dark gaze.

“It means the same thing,” Chadwhispered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Romeo delivered his most pressing glare. Theone that left Chad feeling like an insignificant bug that he wascontemplating stepping on. Chad avoided it, staring down at thecushion he crushed to his body while trying to work out thedifference between a can and a do, and whether hecouldremember which one Vincent had said anymore.

It was a little difficult with his cockdemanding attention and his mind happy to drift back to thoughts ofVincent’s death.

“Do you want to me to explain it toyou?”

Romeo’s words were slow, and tinged withfrustration, but they didn’t help Chad solve the sudden riddle thathad reared its ugly head. The heat of his glare, the slow drawl ofhis words—Chad knew he was pissed, he even knew what had made himannoyed, but didn’t understand why.

He exhaled. “I think you need to.”

Chad regretted glancing Romeo’s way when hisnostrils flared, and the scar by his eye twitched.

“They’re very good at convincing naïvepeople they can. Vincent attacked you and Tate in that stab for areaction. Both of you grew attached to a serial killer. Bothbelieved that a serial killer cared about you.”

“Yes. I understood his perceived insult. Hiscomparison of me and Tate and how I was as naive as a teenager.Thanks for explaining it to me…”

“By changing can to a do you made itpresent, you made it about us … us now.” Romeo gestured to Chadwith his chin. “This.”

Chad’s brain spun. He let go of the cushionwhile shaking his head.

“No—”

“Psychopaths can’t love, they manipulatepeople into thinking they do. Do, Chad. You said do. Present tense.You were talking about me.”

Chad groaned, sitting up. He swiveled andput both his feet on the floor. “Romeo,” he placed his hands onRomeo’s knees. “You’re wrong. I wasn’t accusing you ofmanipulating

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