Chapter Twenty-Nine — Be Good for Me #3
Silence. “You kept the words.” “Not you.” A pause.
Interesting. Elliot continued. “I kept proof somebody knew.” Saint’s voice softened.
“And loved you anyway.” “No.” Ronan looked at him.
Elliot’s chest tightened. “No,” he repeated.
“You didn’t love me.” Silence. Saint asked: “What would you call it?” Elliot looked at Ronan.
Then answered. “Ownership.” Ronan’s expression changed.
Saint went quiet. There. Hit. Good. Elliot continued.
“You wanted credit.” “No.” “Yes.” “You killed because you wanted to.” “I did.” “You became honest because of me.” “No.” “You stopped pretending.” “No.” Saint’s voice hardened slightly.
Finally. “Who did that, then?” Elliot looked at Ronan.
Ronan stared back. Elliot answered: “Him.” Silence.
Ronan’s chest rose. Fell. Saint said nothing.
Elliot smiled faintly. There. Not golden boy.
Not killer. Something in between. “He knows everything.” Saint’s voice returned.
“Does he?” “Yes.” “Everything?” Elliot hesitated.
Ronan felt it. Oh no. Saint laughed. “Exactly.” Ronan looked at Elliot.
“What?” “Nothing.” Wrong. Saint laughed harder.
“There’s always another room, isn’t there?”
Elliot’s stomach dropped. Ronan’s expression hardened.
“What does that mean?”
Saint answered for him.
“Ask him why Tyler Ames was chosen first.”
Ronan looked at Elliot.
“He told me.”
“No.”
Saint’s voice softened.
“He told you what Tyler did.”
Elliot stopped breathing.
“But not why Tyler mattered.”
Ronan stared.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Ronan.”
Elliot’s voice came quiet. Saint continued.
“Tell him.”
Elliot looked toward Rebecca. She stared back through the glass. No. Not here. Not now. Saint said:
“Or I pull the lever.”
A mechanical click echoed. Rebecca spun. The red floodcontrol handle behind the glass moved half an inch. Remote actuator. Fuck. Elliot stepped forward. Ronan caught him.
“Tell me.”
His voice was calm. Too calm. Elliot looked at him.
“What?”
“Whatever it is.”
“Ronan.”
“Tell me.”
Saint laughed softly.
“Good boy.”
Ronan looked toward the speaker.
“Shut the fuck up.”
Silence. Elliot almost smiled. Then Ronan looked back.
“Tell me.”
His mother behind glass. Water waiting. Saint controlling the mechanism. Ronan asking for truth again. There was nowhere left to hide. Elliot swallowed.
“Tyler knew me.”
Ronan frowned.
“I thought you knew him from the bar.”
“No.”
“How?”
Elliot’s throat tightened.
“Before.”
Saint remained silent. Listening. Ronan stared.
“Before what?”
“Before the murders.”
“Obviously.”
“No.”
Elliot forced himself to continue.
“Before Ronan.”
Ronan’s expression changed. Confusion. Then something else.
“What was he to you?”
Elliot looked away.
“A mistake.”
Ronan froze. Saint laughed softly. The flood lever moved another inch. Rebecca shouted.
“ELLIOT!”
Ronan gripped his arm.
“What kind of mistake?”
There. The answer Elliot had hidden longer than the bodies. Because murder was easier to explain than vulnerability.
“Tyler and I slept together.”
Ronan went completely still. Silence. Even Saint stopped. Elliot watched Ronan’s face. Shock first. Then jealousy. Immediate. Raw. Wrong time. Absolutely fucking wrong time. Still there.
“You fucked Tyler.”
“Once.”
“When?”
“January.”
“Before he died.”
“Yes.”
“Before us.”
“Yes.”
Ronan looked away. His jaw tightened. Elliot knew that expression. Possession. Jealousy. The same ugliness Elliot had always carried for Dylan. Saint laughed.
“There you are.”
Ronan’s head snapped toward the speaker.
“Fuck you.”
“Now you understand him.”
Elliot’s stomach turned. Saint had saved this. Not because Tyler’s murder mattered. Because the truth would hurt Ronan personally. Saint understood exactly where to cut. Ronan looked back at Elliot.
“Did you kill Tyler because you slept with him?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Silence. There. Ronan’s face changed. Everything else disappeared. Jealousy. Anger. All of it.
“What did he do?”
Elliot stared. Saint said:
“Tell him.”
Ronan’s voice lowered.
“Elliot.”
He swallowed.
“Tyler drugged me.”
Ronan stopped breathing. Rebecca’s face changed behind the glass. Saint remained silent. Elliot continued because stopping would be worse.
“I didn’t know until after.”
Ronan’s expression emptied.
“When?”
“January.”
“What happened?”
Elliot shook his head.
“No.”
Ronan stepped closer.
“You don’t have to give details.”
That surprised him. Ronan’s voice softened.
“Just tell me enough.”
Elliot looked down.
“I woke up at his apartment.”
Silence.
“I remembered drinking with him. Not leaving.”
Ronan’s hand closed around Elliot’s wrist. Gentle. Not restraint. Contact. Elliot continued.
“He acted like it was normal.”
His throat tightened.
“I convinced myself it was.”
Ronan said nothing.
“I found out later he’d done it before.”
“Other people.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s when you started watching him.”
“Yes.”
Ronan’s eyes went wet. Elliot hated that more than his own emotion.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you looking at me like this.”
“Like what?”
Elliot looked at him.
“Like something happened to me.”
Ronan’s face broke. Not pity. Pain. Elliot almost looked away. Ronan caught his jaw.
“Don’t.”
Elliot froze.
“That doesn’t make you weak.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
Saint interrupted.
“Beautiful.”
Ronan turned toward the speaker. His entire expression changed. Anger. Pure.
“Release her.”
Saint laughed.
“Not yet.”
Ronan’s grip on Elliot tightened.
“You wanted truth. You got it.”
“I wanted choice.”
Elliot looked toward the speaker.
“What choice?”
The flood-control lever moved. Rebecca shouted. Water began rushing into the observation chamber. No. Elliot lunged. Ronan grabbed him.
“WAIT.”
“She’s flooding.”
“I know.”
Water spread across Rebecca’s shoes. Ankle. Fast. Saint’s voice filled the room.
“One lever stops it.”
A second panel lit on their side of the glass. Two buttons. One green. One red. Elliot stared. Saint continued.
“Green opens Rebecca’s door.”
“Then where’s the trick?” Ronan asked.
“Red opens mine.”
Silence. A side door across the room clicked. Behind it, darkness. Saint. Maybe. Rebecca’s water reached mid-calf. Elliot’s entire body tightened.
“If I press green?”
“Your mother walks out.”
“And you?”
“Leave.”
“If I press red?”
“I stay.”
Ronan understood.
“And Rebecca?”
Saint said nothing. Fuck. Elliot stepped toward the buttons. Ronan stayed beside him. Saint said:
“Choose.”
There it was. The entire game reduced. Revenge or love.
Saint or Rebecca. Violence or promise. Elliot stared at red.
Saint behind that door. The person who watched him.
Manipulated him. Took Claire. Took Dylan.
Took his mother. Listened to Ronan. Contaminated everything.
One button kept Saint inside. One opportunity. Elliot’s hand moved. Ronan caught it.
“Be good for me.”
Elliot closed his eyes. Fuck. Rebecca’s water reached her knees. He opened them. Looked at Ronan. Ronan wasn’t commanding. He was asking. Again. Choose me. Choose her. Choose something other than blood. Elliot turned toward green. Saint’s voice changed.
“Don’t.”
First fear. Tiny. Enough. Elliot smiled. Interesting. Saint continued.
“You’ll regret it.”
“Probably.”
“You’ll never find me again.”
“Maybe.”
“You want to know who I am.”
“Yes.”
“Then red.”
Rebecca’s water climbed. Ronan’s hand remained around Elliot’s.
Elliot stared at the buttons. Then at the dark door.
Saint waiting. Wanting to be chosen. Of course.
That was what this had always been. Saint wanted Elliot to choose them.
Over everyone. Over morality. Over Ronan. Over himself. Elliot laughed softly.
“No.”
Then pressed green. A lock released. Rebecca’s chamber door opened. Water spilled violently into the outer drain channel. She stumbled through. Ronan moved first. Elliot followed. They caught her together. Rebecca grabbed Elliot’s face.
“Oh my God.”
He held her. Hard. Too hard.
“I’m sorry.”
She pulled back.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Everything. He couldn’t say. Ronan touched his shoulder. The side door across the room opened. Empty. Saint was gone. Of course. A speaker crackled one last time.
“You chose them.”
Elliot looked toward it.
“Yes.”
Silence. Then Saint said:
“Good boy.”
Elliot stared. For once, the words did nothing. No approval. No heat. No need. He looked at Ronan. Then his mother. And answered:
“Not yours.”
The speaker went silent. Permanently. Ronan smiled.
Small. Proud. Elliot hated how much that one mattered.
Loved it too. Police flooded the building seconds later.
Vance shouting. Officers clearing rooms. Rebecca wrapped in blankets.
Questions. Chaos. Saint gone. But Elliot barely noticed any of it.
Because Ronan stood beside him. Still holding his hand.
And for the first time since Tyler Ames, Elliot had been given the chance to hurt someone who deserved it.
He had chosen not to. Not because police told him.
Not because Saint told him. Because Ronan asked.
That should have frightened him. Instead, Elliot looked at their joined hands and realized something much worse.
He wanted to be the person Ronan believed he could become.
And that might be the most dangerous thing Ronan had ever made him want.