Chapter Twenty-Seven — Who Was There? #3
Elliot stood beside him. Too calm again. Ronan nudged his hand. Tiny. Hidden. Elliot looked over.
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
Ronan stared. Elliot sighed.
“No.”
Better. Vance heard.
“What’s wrong?”
Elliot looked at her.
“You took the phone.”
“Yes.”
“They'll know.” “Know what?” “That I gave it to you.” Vance nodded. “That is generally what we want criminals to know.” Ronan almost smiled. Elliot did not. “You don’t understand.” “Then explain.” “Saint doesn’t punish disobedience directly.
” Vance’s expression changed. “How do they punish it?” Elliot looked toward Ronan.
Ronan felt cold. “Other people.” Silence.
Vance’s entire demeanor sharpened. “Who?” “I don’t know.
” “There it is again.” “I genuinely don’t.
” “What makes you think that?” Elliot swallowed.
Ronan stared. Another secret. Fuck. “When I stopped replying last spring, Claire got followed home.” Ronan went still.
“What?” Elliot closed his eyes briefly. “Someone followed her from campus.” “You never told me.” “I thought it was coincidence.” “Of course you did.” Vance cut in.
“Date?” Elliot gave it. “Any police report?” “Claire reported the vehicle.” Vance immediately started typing on her phone.
Ronan stared at Elliot. “You started responding again after that.” “Yes.” “To protect Claire.” “Yes.” “And now we gave them the phone.” “Yes.”
Cold settled through Ronan. His mother. Thomas. Dylan. Claire. Everyone around Elliot had become leverage. Saint didn’t need Elliot dead. Saint needed Elliot obedient. Ronan understood the game differently now.
“They're going to target someone.”
Elliot looked at him.
“Yes.”
Vance said, “Not if we get there first.” Ronan turned.
“You don’t know who.”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“We protect the obvious people.”
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
“Parents.”
“Yes.”
“Dylan.”
“Already guarded.”
Ronan looked at Elliot.
“And me.”
Vance stared.
“Yes.”
Elliot’s jaw hardened instantly. Ronan saw it.
“No murders,” he said quietly.
Vance frowned.
“What?”
Elliot looked at him. Ronan smiled faintly.
“Inside joke.”
Vance did not look convinced. Probably because nothing about them was convincing anymore. Then her phone rang. She answered. Listened. Her expression shifted.
“What?”
Ronan asked. Vance held up a finger.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“When?”
Another.
“Send me the image.”
She ended the call. Elliot’s body tightened.
“What happened?”
Vance looked at him.
“Claire’s car was found in the Bellweather parking garage.
” Silence. Elliot stopped breathing. Ronan grabbed his wrist. “Where’s Claire?
” “They don’t know.” Elliot moved. Ronan caught him.
“No.” “She has her phone.” “Police are handling it.” “She was in class.” “Elliot.” “She has class until ten thirty.” Ronan looked at the clock.
10:53. His stomach dropped too. Vance was already calling someone.
Elliot pulled against Ronan’s grip. “Let go.” “No.” “Ronan.” “No.” “She’s my best friend.
” “I know.” “Saint said—” “I KNOW.” Elliot stopped.
Ronan stepped directly in front of him. “No mask.” Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“No weapons.” Silence. “No killing.” Elliot looked at him.
“Promise.” His breathing came fast. Fear.
Not control. Not rage yet. Fear. “I promise.” Ronan released him.
Vance looked over. “Neither of you is leaving.” Elliot laughed once.
Wrong. Cold. “Good luck.” Ronan grabbed him again.
“Hey.” Elliot looked at him. Ronan lowered his voice.
“Don’t give Saint what they want.” That landed.
Elliot’s anger stopped. Not disappeared.
Stopped. He looked toward the empty storage room.
Where the phone had been. Saint’s last warning.
Other people. Claire. Ronan saw understanding settle.
“They want me to break the promise.”
“Yes.”
Elliot swallowed. Ronan tightened his hold.
“So don’t.”
Elliot looked at him. For once, the obsession worked in Ronan’s favor. Not morality. Not police. Him. Elliot nodded.
“Okay.”
Vance’s phone vibrated. A photograph arrived. She opened it. Her face changed.
“What?”
Elliot asked. Vance slowly turned the screen toward them. Claire. Alive. Sitting in a chair. Hands bound in front of her. No visible injuries. Behind her, written across a white wall in black paint:
GOOD BOYS KEEP THEIR PROMISES.
Elliot’s entire body went rigid beneath Ronan’s hand.
Then another line beneath it. Smaller. LET’S SEE IF YOURS CAN.
Ronan stared at the words. Not Elliot. Him.
The test had changed. Saint wasn’t asking whether Elliot would kill for someone anymore.
They already knew he would. Now they wanted to know whether Ronan could stop him.
And somewhere inside the terror, Ronan understood exactly what Saint was trying to prove.
Loving Elliot was easy when the monster belonged to him.
The real test was whether Ronan could still love him while refusing to let the monster loose.