Epilogue — Until Next Time
EPILOGUE Until Next Time
Adrian watched Elliot Mercer get married from across the lake.
Distance had always made people careless.
They believed privacy was measured in walls.
Doors. Guest lists. Invitations. They believed that if they chose somewhere small enough, quiet enough, far enough from the city, the world would politely stop looking.
Elliot should have known better. The ceremony had ended twenty-three minutes ago.
Most of the guests had moved toward the house now, carrying champagne and plates and whatever other meaningless things people carried when celebrating permanence.
Music drifted across the water whenever the wind shifted.
Laughter followed it. Adrian sat beneath the trees on the opposite shoreline.
Binoculars rested against his chest. He did not need them anymore. He knew exactly where Elliot was.
Near the garden. Beside Ronan. Of course.
Six years was a long time. Long enough for people to stop looking over their shoulders every time a stranger stood too close.
Long enough for headlines to disappear from the front page.
Long enough for photographs on wanted posters to become outdated.
Adrian had learned that after he escaped.
Three years, seven months, and eleven days after Elliot chose not to kill him, Adrian Cross walked out of federal custody and disappeared.
Not dramatically. No bodies left behind.
No blood on the walls. No clever message waiting for Detective Vance.
That would have been childish. Adrian had spent more than three years inside watching the people responsible for keeping him there.
Learning rotations. Habits. Procedures. Which officers followed rules because they believed in them and which followed rules only because someone might be watching.
Everyone had a weakness. Adrian had always been good at finding them.
One mistake became an opportunity. One opportunity became an unlocked door.
One unlocked door became freedom. By the time anyone understood what had happened, Adrian Cross no longer existed anywhere they knew to look.
The search had lasted months. Then years.
His face appeared on television again. Federal bulletins.
News sites. True-crime specials that got nearly everything wrong. Detective Vance had been
dragged in front of cameras more times than Adrian could count.
Ronan had become paranoid again. Elliot had been told inside prison.
Adrian knew because he had watched. He always watched.
At first, Ronan expected him immediately.
Every unknown number. Every unfamiliar car.
Every person standing too long across the street.
Adrian gave him nothing. No photographs.
No messages. No good boy. Silence was useful when applied correctly.
Eventually fear became caution. Caution became routine.
Routine became life. And life had carried them here.
A wedding. Adrian almost smiled. He had watched them stand in front of everyone and make promises to each other as though promises had ever meant anything.
Elliot had looked different. Older. That was expected.
Prison had taken years from him. Consequences had carved away some of the softness Adrian remembered from Bellweather.
His shoulders were broader now. His face sharper.
There were lines around his eyes that had not existed when Adrian first photographed him walking across campus at eighteen. But that wasn't what bothered him.
Elliot looked peaceful. Adrian hated that.
He lifted the binoculars again. Ronan said something.
Elliot laughed. Not the laugh he used at parties.
Not the polished one. Not the golden boy performing happiness because everyone expected him to be happy.
Adrian knew those smiles. He had catalogued them.
Studied them. Learned the difference between Elliot smiling because he was amused and Elliot smiling because someone was watching.
This one was real. Ronan touched Elliot's waist. Casual.
Possessive without trying to be. Elliot leaned into him automatically.
Adrian lowered the binoculars. His jaw hurt.
He relaxed it. Emotion made people sloppy.
He had taught Elliot that. Or tried to. Across the lake, Ronan kissed Elliot.
Applause erupted from somewhere near the house.
Adrian looked away. For three years he had watched Elliot become himself.
Long before Elliot knew Saint existed. Long before the messages.
Long before Tyler. Long before the mask.
Adrian had seen what lived beneath all that careful perfection.
The anger. The humiliation. The hunger. The violence Elliot kept folded beneath good grades, expensive clothes, polite smiles, and a face people trusted too easily.
Adrian had understood. More importantly, he had never been afraid.
That should have mattered. For a while, it had.
Then Ronan happened. Adrian looked across the water again.
Ronan Vale. Primary lever. He almost laughed at the stupidity of the phrase now.
He had written it years ago. Clinical. Certain.
Ronan would intensify Elliot's instability. Possessiveness would
increase. Jealousy would sharpen existing aggression. Fear of abandonment would make Elliot easier to direct.
The prediction had been correct. At first. Ronan had made Elliot jealous.
Violent. Reckless. Ronan had made him worse.
And then somehow, impossibly, the bastard had stayed long enough to make him better.
Not good. Adrian wasn't stupid enough to believe that.
Elliot Mercer would never be good. That was part of what made him beautiful.
But controlled. Aware. Responsible. Capable of looking at what he had done without hiding behind Saint's approval.
Adrian's fingers tightened around the binoculars.
Elliot had confessed. That had been the first betrayal.
Then he had rejected him. The second. Then prison.
Years of silence. No messages answered. No signs.
Nothing. Adrian had watched anyway. Not constantly.
He had other things to do. Other cities.
Other names. Other people who believed the worst parts of themselves made them impossible to understand.
They were always wrong. But none of them were Elliot.
None of them ever would be. Across the lake, Elliot pulled Ronan backward.
Ronan stumbled. Even from this distance Adrian could see him swear.
Elliot smiled. Then leaned toward Ronan's shoulder.
Adrian went still. Teeth. Ronan shoved his face away.
Elliot laughed. A second later he kissed the same spot.
Adrian stared. Good boys don't bite. The phrase surfaced without permission.
Once, it had belonged to him. Approval. Reward.
A leash disguised as affection. Then Ronan had taken it.
Changed it. Made it theirs. Adrian felt something cold settle beneath his ribs. He had underestimated Ronan.
That was the mistake. Not Elliot. Never Elliot.
Ronan. Adrian had believed love would make Ronan predictable.
Fear would make him controlling. Elliot's violence would eventually become too heavy to carry.
Ronan would leave, and when he did, Elliot would finally understand.
Everyone left. Eventually. Samuel had. Daniel had tried.
Mara had tried. Isaac had tried. They always did.
But Ronan hadn't. Not after the bodies. Not after the confession.
Not after the trial. Not after the sentence.
Not after years spent visiting a man everyone else had learned to call a monster.
Ronan stayed. Adrian had spent years trying to understand why.
He finally did. Choice. The word irritated him.
Elliot had become obsessed with it. His choices. His consequences.
His life. As though human beings were ever as free as they imagined themselves to be. Adrian reached into his coat. The phone was new. Purchased three states away. Never activated near anywhere connected to him. There was only one photograph stored
on it. Taken earlier that afternoon. Elliot standing beneath the arbor.
Ronan opposite him. Their hands together.
Adrian opened the image. For several seconds, his thumb hovered over the screen.
An old instinct. Send it. Unknown number.
No message necessary. Elliot would understand immediately.
The posture would change. The smile would disappear.
Ronan would start searching the tree line.
Police would be called. The wedding would become his.
Adrian stared at the photograph. Then locked the phone. No.
Not today. Across the lake, Elliot took Ronan's hand.
They started toward the house. Guests moved around them.
Friends. Family. A life. Elliot disappeared through the garden doors.
Adrian remained beneath the trees. He had spent years believing Elliot belonged to him because he had seen him first. That had been childish.
Possession was not observation. It wasn't understanding either.
Ronan had taught him that. Adrian hated him for it.
The lake darkened as the sun dropped behind the trees.
Music continued across the water. Adrian stood.
Brushed dirt from his coat. Picked up the small bag beside him.
He looked toward the house one final time.
No anger now. Anger was temporary. This was something quieter.
Better. Patience. Ronan believed staying had saved Elliot.
Elliot believed serving his sentence had closed the door on the person he used to be.
Detective Vance probably believed Adrian Cross had fled far enough away that returning to Bellweather would be too dangerous.
Everyone needed their comforting little conclusions.
Adrian understood that. He could allow them one.
For now. He turned away from the lake. His car waited almost a mile through the woods.
No cameras. No toll roads. No phone transmitting from his pocket.
He had learned from his mistakes. That was the difference between him and the others.
Daniel had run. Mara had run. Isaac had run.
Nathan had broken. Elliot had changed. Adrian smiled faintly.
Interesting. Maybe that was why he remained the favorite. Not because Elliot had obeyed.
Because he hadn't. Adrian started walking. Behind him, laughter carried across the lake again. He did not turn around. Ronan Vale had made one mistake. A remarkably human one. He had mistaken survival for victory. Adrian disappeared into the trees.