Chapter Twenty — Everything You Never Knew
ELLIOT
Ronan had lied for him. Elliot could not stop thinking about it.
The storage room remained open behind them, its weak ceiling bulb spilling yellow light across stacked boxes and the black container on the floor.
The mask sat inside exactly where Elliot had left it, white porcelain tilted upward, black eyeholes absorbing the light instead of reflecting it.
Ronan stood several feet away with his phone still in one hand.
The lie he had just sent Detective Vance remained somewhere behind the locked screen.
I haven’t seen another mask. Elliot hasn’t either.
We’re both home. Simple. Clean. False. Elliot stared at him.
Ronan looked sick. Not metaphorically. Actually sick.
His face had gone pale beneath the warm light.
His jaw remained clenched so hard a muscle pulsed near his temple.
One hand opened and closed at his side like his body needed something physical to do with the panic.
Elliot had imagined Ronan choosing him countless times. Not like this. Never like this.
“Why?” Elliot asked.
Ronan looked at him. The answer came immediately.
“I don’t know.”
Elliot believed him. That made it worse.
Ronan stepped out of the storage room. Elliot followed.
Neither touched the container. Neither closed the door.
The entire downstairs suddenly felt contaminated by what they both knew was sitting five feet away.
Ronan walked into the kitchen and braced both hands against the island.
Elliot remained near the stairs. The distance between them felt deliberate.
“You lied to her,” Elliot said.
Ronan laughed once. There was no humor in it.
“Thank you. I noticed.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Don’t.” Elliot went quiet. Ronan bowed his head.
For several seconds, he simply breathed.
Then he looked up. “What the fuck did I just do?” Elliot’s chest tightened.
“You protected me.” “Do not call it that.” “Why?” “Because that makes it sound noble.” Elliot stared.
Ronan pushed away from the island. “I lied to a homicide detective while evidence linking you to five murders is sitting under our stairs.” His voice remained low.
Controlled. That control looked fragile now.
“You protected me,” Elliot repeated. Ronan’s eyes flashed.
“I said stop.” Elliot did. For once. Ronan paced toward the living room and back.
“Five.” The word came out like it hurt him.
“Five fucking people.” Elliot looked down.
“You keep saying that like the number is going to change.” Ronan stopped.
Bad answer. Elliot knew immediately. “Jesus Christ.” “That’s not what I meant.
” “No, explain.” “I mean I already told you.” “And you sound annoyed that I’m struggling with it.
” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m not.” Ronan laughed bitterly.
“Do you even understand what you told me?” “Yes.” “No.” Elliot’s jaw tightened.
Ronan stepped closer. “Five people are dead because you decided they deserved to be.” Elliot looked at him.
“They hurt people.” “So?” “So that mattered.”
“Not enough for murder.”
“I know what you think.”
Ronan stared. The sentence had been too detached. Too easy. Elliot saw that. He softened his voice.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Ronan rubbed his face.
“You keep saying you know, but you don’t feel any of this like a normal person.”
There. The old accusation. Different words. Same thing. Elliot felt something cold settle beneath his ribs.
“Maybe I’m not normal.”
Ronan looked at him. For several seconds, neither moved. Then Ronan said:
“I need you to stop answering like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like this is some fucking clinical exercise.”
“I don’t know what you want.”
“Anything human.”
The words hit harder than Elliot expected. He looked away. Ronan immediately regretted them. Elliot could see it.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Still true.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Ronan stepped closer. Elliot moved backward. Not because he was afraid. Because he didn’t want comfort right now. Comfort would break something. Ronan stopped.
“Elliot.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
His voice cracked. Barely. Enough. Ronan’s expression changed. Elliot hated that. He hated being seen after failing to control something. He looked toward the storage room. The mask stared from darkness beyond the doorway.
“I didn’t kill them because I wanted to feel something.”
Ronan stayed silent.
“I didn’t wake up one day and decide murder sounded fun.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” “I know.” Ronan’s jaw tightened at the phrase.
Elliot continued before he could interrupt.
“Tyler had drugged women before.” “Police should have handled it.” “They didn’t.
” “You don’t know that.” “I knew what he was doing.” “That is not the same as proof.” “I had proof.” Ronan froze.
“What?” Elliot realized. Too late. “You had proof.” “Yes.” “What proof?” “Messages. Screenshots. People talked.” “And you didn’t give it to police.
” “No.” “Why?” Elliot looked at him. “Because I didn’t trust them to stop him.
” Ronan laughed in disbelief. “So you killed him.” “Yes.” The answer came quietly.
Ronan looked away. Elliot continued. “Grace was threatening to send private photos to someone’s family and employer unless he stayed with her.
” “Again. Police.” “He wouldn’t go.” “Why?” “Because he was ashamed.” “Then help him.” “I did.” Ronan’s eyes snapped back.
“By killing her.” “Yes.” “Jesus Christ.” “Benjamin put his boyfriend in the hospital twice.” “Stop.” “Mason used humiliation like entertainment.” “I said stop.”
“Lucas distributed private videos.”
“Elliot.”
“They weren’t random.”
“I KNOW.”
The shout filled the room. Elliot stopped. Ronan’s chest rose and fell.
“Stop trying to make me agree with you.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Elliot looked away. Maybe he was. Not consciously. But some part of him had always wanted Ronan to understand the logic. Not approve. Understand. There was a difference. At least to Elliot. Ronan spoke more quietly.
“Did you ever try anything else?”
Elliot frowned.
“What?”
“Before killing them.”
“Sometimes.”
“What does that mean?”
“Warnings.”
“Threats.”
“Yes.”
“And if they stopped?”
Elliot hesitated. Ronan noticed.
“What?”
“Some did.”
“And?”
“They’re alive.”
Ronan stared. That answer seemed to surprise him. Elliot didn’t know why.
“You didn’t kill everyone you thought was bad.”
“No.”
“Only the ones who kept going.”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly.”
Ronan laughed once.
“What does mostly mean?”
Elliot’s stomach tightened. There. Dylan. The shift. The rule breaking. Ronan saw it immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Fuck that word.” Elliot closed his eyes.
Ronan stepped closer. “Which one didn’t fit?
” Elliot said nothing. Ronan’s face changed.
Understanding. Not complete. Enough. “Mason?” “No.” “Lucas?” “No.” “Then one of the first three?” Elliot shook his head.
Ronan stared. His confusion deepened. Then: “Dylan.” Elliot’s eyes opened.
Ronan went still. “You were going to kill Dylan.” Silence.
Elliot could lie. Pointless now. “Yes.” Ronan’s face emptied.
The reaction frightened Elliot more than anger.
“Why?” He already knew. That made it worse.
“Because of me.” Elliot swallowed. “Yes.” Ronan stepped backward.
“Jesus Christ.” “I didn’t.” “That is not the point.” “I know.” “You were going to kill him because he slept with me.” Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“And because he kept pushing.” “Pushing what?” “You.” Ronan laughed in disbelief.
“I am not an object.” “I know.” “Do you?” “Yes.” “Then why were you going to murder someone for touching me?” Elliot’s voice dropped. “Because I couldn’t stand it.”
Silence. There. No justification. No moral rule. No victim behavior. Only truth. Ronan stared. Elliot forced himself to keep going.
“I hated that he knew you that way.”
Ronan said nothing.
“I hated him talking to you. Touching you. Acting like he could still have something.”
“He couldn’t.”
“I know.”
“You obviously didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Then why?”
Elliot looked at him.
“Because knowing didn’t change how it felt.”
Ronan’s expression softened for one dangerous second. Then hardened again.
“Feelings don’t give you permission to kill people.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Elliot laughed softly.
“What else am I supposed to say?”
“That you understand why this is fucked.”
“I do.”
“That you regret it.”
There. Elliot stopped. Ronan noticed.
“Do you?”
The question hung. Elliot thought about Mason.
Lucas. The first three. He regretted getting caught.
He regretted Ronan knowing this way. He regretted fear on Ronan’s face.
Did he regret them being dead? Not exactly.
That truth felt monstrous even to him. Ronan watched. He knew. Elliot didn’t need to answer.
“Oh my God.”
Ronan looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came automatically. Ronan turned.
“For what?”
Elliot swallowed.
“For hurting you.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
“Do you regret killing them?”