Chapter Twenty-Nine — Be Good for Me #2
Pause. Then Vance spoke into radio. Ronan watched.
Seconds passed. An officer approached the van with cover.
Door opened. Nothing. Empty. Elliot’s stomach dropped.
Vance swore. Then Ronan’s phone vibrated.
Unknown. Of course. He opened it. A photograph.
Rebecca. Still alive. Different room. No chair now.
Standing. Hands bound. Behind her was a wall of glass. Water beyond it. Ronan frowned.
“What is that?”
Elliot knew immediately. His heart stopped.
“No.”
“What?”
“The aquarium.”
Vance looked toward them through the SUV window. Ronan opened the door.
“Bellweather Aquarium?”
“No.”
Elliot’s breathing quickened.
“Old marine sciences building.”
Ronan stared.
“The abandoned one?”
“Yes.”
Bellweather University had once maintained a small freshwater research facility north of campus.
Closed five years ago. Most tanks drained.
One enormous observation room remained connected to a reservoir-fed system because demolition funding never materialized.
Saint knew. How? Then Elliot remembered.
Forum. Another conversation. Places that felt abandoned but not empty. Fuck.
“I told them.”
Ronan looked at him.
“What?”
“Saint asked about creepy places around Bellweather.”
“Of course they fucking did.”
Vance approached.
“What location?”
Elliot told her. She immediately started calling it in. Ronan looked at the photo again. Rebecca. Glass. Water. Then text appeared.
BETTER.
Another.
YOU REMEMBER.
Elliot’s stomach turned. Another.
COME ALONE.
Ronan laughed bitterly.
“Original.”
Then:
RONAN STAYS.
Elliot stared. Saint knew Ronan was with him. Maybe live. Maybe obvious. Another message.
VANCE STAYS TOO.
Then:
OR MOM GOES SWIMMING.
Elliot stopped breathing. Ronan looked at the water behind Rebecca. The facility’s main observation tank. Deep. Cold. If Saint had access to controls— Elliot’s thoughts accelerated. Ronan grabbed his face.
“No.”
“What?”
“Your eyes.”
“What about them?”
“You’re gone.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re planning violence.”
“Yes.”
“At least honest.”
“She could drown.”
“I know.”
“There’s a manual release.”
Ronan frowned.
“For the tank?”
“Emergency flood gate.”
“What does that mean?” “The observation chamber can be flooded.” Ronan went pale.
Vance heard. “Explain.” Elliot did. Saint had chosen perfectly.
A room Elliot knew. A mechanism he understood.
A threat tailored exactly to force him into direct action.
Ronan looked at him. “You’re going.” Not a question.
“Yes.” Vance said, “No.” Elliot stared. “Yes.” “Absolutely not alone.” “If Saint sees police—” “We don’t know they can.
” “They always can.” Ronan stepped between them.
“Then I go with him.” “No,” Elliot and Vance said together.
Ronan laughed. “Cute.” Elliot grabbed his arm.
“No.” “You don’t get to decide.” “Yes, I do.” “Why?” “Because Saint asked for me.” “And specifically told me to stay.” “Exactly.” Ronan stared.
Then understanding. “If they’re separating us, that’s part of the test.” “Yes.” Saint wanted Elliot alone.
Without Ronan’s restraint. Without the promise standing physically beside him.
Ronan looked toward the phone. Then at Elliot.
“What if that’s why I need to go?” Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“If Saint sees you, Mom could die.” “What if Saint only said that because they know you believe it?” Silence.
Vance watched. Ronan continued. “Everything is about control.” Elliot stared. “Yes.”
“Saint controls you by controlling the people you love.”
“Yes.”
“So stop letting them set every rule.”
The sentence landed. Hard. Elliot looked at him. Ronan’s expression changed. Not gentle. Not commanding. Certain.
“You don’t go alone.”
Elliot’s chest tightened.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then we deal with it.”
“Rebecca—”
“We get her back.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.”
At least he didn’t lie. Ronan took Elliot’s hand.
“But I can promise you don’t face Saint by yourself.”
Elliot stared. There it was again. The thing Saint had never given him. Not permission. Not approval. Presence. Ronan wasn’t asking Elliot to perform. He was simply refusing to leave. Elliot swallowed.
“Fine.”
Ronan smiled faintly.
“Was that genuine?”
“No.”
“Good enough.”
Vance exhaled.
“I hate both of you.”
“Mutual,” Ronan said.
She ignored him.
“We do this with tactical at distance.”
Saint’s message arrived immediately.
BAD BOY.
Ronan stared. Elliot did too. Another:
I TOLD YOU TO STAY.
Ronan looked around. No camera obvious. No microphone. Saint was watching the decisions somehow. Then another:
HE NEVER LISTENS.
Ronan smiled.
“Correct.”
Elliot almost laughed. Saint sent: THAT’S WHY HE’S PERFECT FOR YOU. The smile disappeared. Then:
COME GET YOUR MOTHER. They reached the marine sciences building at 12:21 P.M. The structure looked dead.
Concrete. Faded university logo. Windows cloudy with age.
Lake water visible beyond the trees. No cars.
No movement. Ronan stood beside Elliot behind an unmarked SUV.
Vance adjusted the microphone hidden beneath Elliot’s collar. Ronan watched.
“You okay?”
“No.”
Good answer. Ronan nodded. Elliot looked toward the building.
“Stay behind me.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Elliot turned.
“Ronan.”
“No.”
“If there’s someone inside—”
“I know.”
“If they have a weapon—”
“I know.”
“If I tell you to run—”
“No.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened. Ronan stepped closer.
“Be good for me.”
Everything inside Elliot stopped. The phrase hit differently. Not sexual. Not Saint. Not approval. A request. From Ronan. Choose restraint. Choose me. Choose yourself. Elliot looked at him. Ronan touched his cheek.
“Come back with me.”
His throat tightened.
“I will.”
“Promise.”
Elliot closed his eyes. Then opened them.
“I promise.”
Ronan nodded.
“Good boy.”
Saint could have the words. They did not have the meaning.
Elliot understood that now. They entered together.
The building smelled like mold, dust, and lake water.
Their footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Old posters hung crooked along the walls.
Freshwater ecology. Wetland preservation.
Student research from years ago. Normal academic debris around something completely abnormal.
Elliot knew the route. Left. Stairs. Observation wing.
Ronan stayed beside him. Not behind. Good.
They reached the final corridor. Light glowed beneath the observation-room door.
Elliot stopped. Ronan’s hand touched his lower back.
Ready? Elliot nodded. They opened it. Rebecca stood behind glass.
Other side of the observation chamber. Hands bound. Alive. Her eyes widened.
“Elliot!”
He moved. Ronan grabbed his hoodie.
“Wait.”
Rebecca shook her head violently.
“DON’T.”
Elliot froze. A speaker crackled overhead. Then Saint’s voice filled the room. Not distorted this time. Male. Warm. Familiar somehow.
“Hello, Elliot.”
His blood went cold. Ronan looked toward him. Elliot stared at the speaker. He knew that voice. Not from real life. From nowhere. And everywhere. He had never heard Saint speak. But something about the cadence matched the messages so perfectly his body recognized it before his brain did.
“Let her go.”
Saint laughed softly.
“Still demanding.”
“Show yourself.”
“Soon.”
Ronan scanned the room. No visible person. Rebecca remained behind the glass. A red emergency lever sat beside her chamber door. Flood control. Fuck. Saint continued.
“I’m disappointed.”
“In what?”
“You brought him.”
Elliot looked at Ronan. Ronan smiled toward the speaker.
“Hi.”
Saint went silent. Ronan’s smile widened. Elliot almost laughed. Then Saint said:
“You’re prettier angry.”
Ronan’s face hardened. Elliot stepped forward.
“Don’t.”
Ronan looked at him. Possession recognized possession again. Saint laughed.
“There.”
Elliot stared toward the ceiling.
“What do you want?”
“I wanted to see whether he could stop you.”
“From?”
“You know.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Liar.”
Ronan touched his wrist. Promise. Elliot breathed. Saint continued.
“Claire was easy.”
Rage. Ronan tightened his grip.
“Dylan easier.”
More rage.
“Your mother…”
The speaker paused.
“She was disappointing.”
Elliot’s entire body tightened. Ronan whispered:
“Be good.”
He hated how much he needed the words.
“What did she do?”
Saint laughed.
“Nothing.”
“Then why take her?”
“Because you love her.”
Simple. That was all Saint needed. Elliot stared. Rebecca shouted through the glass.
“Elliot, don’t listen to him.”
Saint laughed again.
“See? Good mother.”
Ronan looked at the room. Searching. There had to be a control location. Saint remote. Maybe elsewhere. Maybe cameras. Elliot followed his gaze. One small camera above the observation glass. Ronan saw. Good. Saint said:
“I gave you permission once.”
Elliot looked toward the speaker.
“No.”
“You needed it.”
“I didn’t.”
“You kept my note.”