Page 139 of Four for a Boy

“I left it in my car. You need to get it. You need to phone an ambulance.”

Chad leaned over Shawn’s still body and gave him two more breaths. He lifted his head and glowered at Tate still on his knees. “Now!”

Tate took off, disappearing around the side of his car. Chad cursed himself for leaving his keys in the ignition, and the car running. He’d given Tate the perfect getaway opportunity and practically dangled it in front of him.

Footsteps pounded back to him, and Chad shook away the shock from his face. Tate collapsed back onto his knees, visually checking Chad’s progress and screwing his face up at the lack of any.

Shawn was still between them. The skin beneath his eyes had purpled, and his lips had a blue hue at the edges.

Tate kept the phone to his ear and blurted Shawn’s details.

Chad looked up sharply at the choking sound of Tate’s despair as he answered another question, “Five minutes, not long. I couldn’t go through with it. Chloroform. I got him out as soon as he went limp, and I started CPR, but it’s not working.”

Shawn’s hands had taken on a greyish tint. Chad expected his lips to be cold, but they were still warm when he covered them with another rescue breath.

Chad heard the small voice on the other end of the phone asking Tate to stay on the line, but he tore it away from his ear and stabbed his thumb against the end call button.

“They’re on their way,” Tate whispered.

He took up Shawn’s hand and clutched it in both of his.

Blood stained Tate’s fingertips.

“I changed my mind.”

Tate pulled Shawn’s hand closer.

He kissed the back of it, apologizing to his brother’s skin.

Questions itched in the back of Chad’s mind, but he was breathless, worn out, and concentrating on keeping count of his compressions.

Tate lifted Shawn’s hand and cradled it against his face.

Chad blocked Tate out and focused on Shawn, but his words still broke Chad’s rhythm.

“You must think I’m a monster.” Tate sniffed. “I am. I know I am. I didn’t want to, but the thought of disappointinghimwas somehow worse.”

The muscles in Chad’s neck ached, and a bead of sweat dropped from the tip of his nose onto Shawn’s chest.

“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” Chad panted.

“I wanted him to be happy with me. I wanted to be the one to make him happy. Fuck, he turned my life around. He made it better. I didn’t want to lose him.”

Chad panted. “I just spoke to him. He was manipulating you. He wanted to see if he could prove his theory that anyone can be a serial killer.”

“I’m not a serial killer,” Tate whispered.

Chad lowered his gaze back to Shawn.

“I’m not … I’ve killed people, but I didn’t get any kick out of it. I didn’t enjoy it. That’s what serial killers do. They enjoy hurting others, making them scared, but I didn’t. I didn’t want them to hurt. I didn’t want to scare anyone. I was doing it for him.”

“What about the gloating?”

“What?”

“Leaving that hoodie by the freezers?”

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