Chapter Twenty-Four — The Monster He Chose #2
“You’re reading body language now?”
“Sometimes.”
“Dangerous.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Ronan almost laughed. He hated himself. Vance stepped closer.
“What connects those five people?”
Elliot’s face gave nothing.
“Maybe Nathan.”
“I already explained why that doesn’t work.”
“Then I don’t know.”
Vance looked at Ronan. His pulse jumped.
“Do you?”
There. The choice again. It was becoming easier. That scared him.
“No.”
The lie left clean. Vance stared. Ronan held her gaze. Elliot did not look at him. Good. If he did, Ronan might break. Vance exhaled.
“Fine.”
She walked toward the stairs. Then stopped.
“One more thing.”
Ronan’s stomach tightened. She looked directly at Elliot.
“Nathan wrote a sentence beneath your name.”
Elliot’s expression stayed blank.
“What?”
Vance answered:
HE DID IT FOR ME.
Silence. Ronan felt the words move through the room. Elliot stared. Ronan frowned.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“I was hoping one of you could tell me.”
Neither answered. Vance continued.
“Under Ronan’s name, he wrote something else.”
Ronan’s pulse increased.
“What?”
Her gaze shifted. HE’LL DO IT FOR HIM. Cold moved through Ronan so hard his skin prickled. Elliot slowly looked at him. The watcher’s game. Turn him. Push him. Lie once. Lie again. Hide evidence. Choose Elliot. He’ll do it for him. Ronan swallowed. Vance watched both. Then:
“Get some sleep.”
Ronan almost laughed.
“Are you serious?”
“No.”
She left. The police remained another forty minutes.
Nathan was transported. Evidence photographed.
Statements taken. Their parents came over, were told the intruder had been arrested, and were given exactly enough information to prevent Rebecca from physically attaching herself to Elliot for the rest of the night.
Nobody mentioned five murders. Nobody mentioned the mask.
Nobody mentioned that Ronan had lied directly to homicide detectives three times.
By 3:37 A.M., the carriage house finally went quiet.
Ronan stood alone in the kitchen. Elliot was upstairs showering.
The storage-room door remained closed. Ronan stared at it.
His phone was broken. He’d shattered it because panic had told him destroying something might somehow protect Elliot.
It had accomplished nothing. Except prove he was capable of acting without thinking when Elliot was threatened.
Nathan knew that. Nathan had apparently predicted it. HE’LL DO IT FOR HIM. Ronan hated the sentence. Because it was already true. The shower stopped upstairs. Ronan poured water. His hand shook enough that some spilled onto the counter.
“Fuck.”
He wiped it with his sleeve. Footsteps came down. Elliot appeared wearing clean sweatpants and a black T-shirt. His hair was damp. The bruise on his throat had darkened. Ronan stared at it. Elliot noticed.
“What?”
Ronan looked away.
“Nothing.”
“Apparently we’re never banning that word.”
“Apparently not.”
Elliot approached the island. Stopped on the opposite side. Distance again. Ronan hated it. Needed it. Both.
“Tyler,” Ronan said.
Elliot’s expression tightened.
“Nathan knew.”
“Yes.” “Grace.” “Yes.” “Benjamin.” “Yes.” “How?” “I don’t know.
” “You have theories.” “Several.” “Give me one.” Elliot hesitated.
“He watched.” “The murders?” “Maybe.” “All five?” “I don’t know.
” Ronan stared. Elliot looked exhausted.
Not polished anymore. Good. “Tyler was months ago.” “Yes.” “So Nathan’s obsession started before Mason.
” “Yes.” “How much before?” “I don’t know.
” “First stalking message?” “January.” Ronan’s jaw tightened.
“Tyler died February eighth.” “Yes.” Nathan might have been watching before Elliot’s first kill.
Or first kill Ronan knew about. Ronan froze.
“Was Tyler actually first?” Elliot looked at him.
“Yes.” “No hesitation.” “Because he was.” Ronan nodded.
“Okay.” Elliot studied him. “What?” “I believe you.” That seemed to surprise him.
Ronan hated that too. “Why?” “Because if there were more, I think tonight would've been the easiest time to tell me.” Elliot almost smiled. “Your standards for honesty have collapsed.” “Yes.” “Sorry.” “Stop.” A tiny smile. Then gone. Ronan drank water. “Why Tyler?” “You know.” “No. Why then?” Elliot stared. Ronan continued. “You’d known people like him before.” “Yes.” “You knew shitty people before.” “Yes.” “So why did killing become an option in February?” Silence.
Different question. Ronan could see it. Elliot looked toward the dark window.
“I met someone.” Cold moved through Ronan.
“Who?” “I don’t know.” “Elliot.” “I genuinely don’t.
” Ronan stared. That sounded real. “Explain.” Elliot leaned against the island.
“A forum.” “What kind?” “Anonymous.” “About?” “People who hurt others.” Ronan’s stomach tightened.
“You found murder advice online?” “No.” “Then?” Elliot rubbed his thumb against the edge of the counter.
“There was someone I talked to.” “How often?” “Months.” “How long before Tyler?” “Maybe six weeks.” Ronan stared.
“What did you talk about?” “Justice.” The word made Ronan feel sick.
“Jesus.” “Not killing.” “At first?” Elliot looked at him.
There. Ronan’s chest tightened. “What happened?” “They asked hypothetical questions.” “What kind?” “What should happen to people who never face consequences.” “And you answered?” “Yes.” “What did you say?” “Depends.” “On?” “What they did.” Ronan laughed quietly.
“Of course.” Elliot looked down. “They never told me to kill anyone.” “But?” “They made it sound…” He stopped.
Ronan waited. “Possible.” Silence. There it was.
Nathan hadn’t simply watched Elliot become a killer.
Maybe he had helped create him. “Did you ever meet this person?” “No.” “Voice?” “No.” “Video?” “No.” “Username?” Elliot’s expression changed.
“What?” “What was the username?” “Saint.” Ronan froze.
Of course. That name landed wrong for reasons he couldn’t immediately explain.
“Saint.” “Yes.” “Could Nathan be Saint?” “I don’t know.
” “Did Saint know about Tyler?” Elliot hesitated.
“Yes.” “How?” “I told him.” “After?” “Yes.” Ronan’s stomach turned.
“You confessed to somebody online after killing him.” “Not directly.” “What did you say?” “That Tyler couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.
” “And Saint understood.” “Yes.” “What did they respond?” Elliot closed his eyes briefly.
Ronan’s skin prickled. “What?” Elliot opened them.
Good boy. Ronan stopped breathing. The room went silent.
“No.” Elliot stared. “Yes.” The phrase. Again.
Good boys don’t bite. Good boy. Nathan’s obsession with the words.
Their private dynamic. The book’s entire fucking phrase had another layer now.
Ronan felt cold. “Did you ever tell Nathan about Saint?” “No.” “Anyone?” “No.” “Was the account still active?” “No.” “When did it disappear?” “After Lucas.” Ronan stared.
“Immediately?” “Two days.” “Did you save anything?” “No.” “Of course.” “I know.” Ronan paced once around the island.
Nathan. Saint. Watcher. Mentor. Could be the same person.
Maybe not. “Did Saint know about me?” Elliot went still.
Ronan saw it. “Elliot.” “Yes.” His stomach dropped.
“How much?” “Enough.” “What the fuck does enough mean?” “I talked about you.” “How?” Elliot looked uncomfortable.
That was almost funny. Ronan stared. “Were you telling some anonymous murder philosopher about our sex life?” “No.” “Good.” “Not exactly.” Ronan closed his eyes.
“Elliot.” “Not details.” “What details?” “Jealousy.” “That is not a detail.” “I talked about wanting you.” Ronan opened his eyes.
Elliot looked away. “Before us?” “Yes.” Something warm tried to exist beneath the horror.
Ronan killed it. “What did Saint say?” Elliot’s voice dropped.
“That you were the only thing I wanted more than control.” Ronan stared.
“You said that?” “Yes.” “Dramatic.” “I was twenty.” “You’re twenty-one now.
” “Growth.” Ronan almost laughed. Then: “What else?” Elliot’s face tightened.
“Saint told me wanting something enough eventually makes morality feel optional.” Ronan’s amusement vanished.
There. The fucking blueprint. “And you believed him.” “Sometimes.” “You killed people.” “Yes.” “So more than sometimes.” Elliot looked down.
Ronan exhaled. “Nathan knew about Saint.” “Maybe.” “No.” Ronan looked toward the ceiling.
The microphone. The surveillance. The notes.
HE DID IT FOR ME. “He thinks you killed them for him.” Elliot’s expression changed.
“Yes.” “But you didn’t.” “No.” “Did Saint?” “I don’t know.
” Ronan stopped. “What?” Elliot look