Chapter Thirty-Three — Still Here #2
“Three alive.” “Yes.” “They found one.” Elliot froze.
“What?” Ronan leaned back. “Not Saint.” “I know. Who?” “Vance called me last night.” “Why you?” “Because apparently I’m now part of every fucking investigation.
” “Sorry.” “Not your fault.” Elliot gave him a look.
“Mostly not your fault.” “Better.” Ronan continued.
“The project’s name is Caleb Ward.” No recognition.
Elliot frowned. “Who is he?” “Thirty.” “Location?” “Baltimore.” “Saint contacted him?” “According to Vance.” “When?” “Four years ago.” Before Nathan.
Elliot went still. “So Nathan wasn’t first.” “No.” “How did they find Caleb?” “Nathan had an old username.” “Alive?” “Yes.” “Criminal?” Ronan looked at him.
“That’s where it gets weird.” Elliot almost smiled.
“This gets weird now?” “Shut up.” Ronan leaned forward.
“Caleb never killed anyone.” Elliot’s expression changed.
“What?” “He apparently got close.” “How close?” “I don’t know.
” Elliot stared. Ronan caught himself. “Yeah, yeah.” “Everyone’s favorite answer.
” “But he stopped talking to Saint.” “When?” “Before whatever Saint wanted him to do.” Elliot’s eyes sharpened.
“And?” “He disappeared for six months.” “Saint took him.” “Maybe.” “Where was he?” “Hospital.” Elliot frowned.
“Why?” Ronan hesitated. This part bothered him.
“He tried to kill himself.” Silence. Elliot looked down.
Ronan continued carefully. “Vance said Saint apparently spent months convincing Caleb that everybody he loved would eventually discover what he really was.” Elliot stopped moving.
There. Ronan had known that line would hit.
“He isolated him.” “Yes.” “Then pushed him toward violence.” “Apparently.” “Against who?” “His brother.” Elliot looked up sharply.
Ronan nodded. “Yeah.” “Did he?” “No.” “How did it end?” “Caleb told his brother everything.” Silence.
Ronan watched Elliot process it. “He confessed before doing anything.” “Yes.” “Then Saint—” “Disappeared.” Elliot leaned back.
Interesting. Very. “Saint hates confession.” Ronan nodded.
“That’s what I thought.” “Because secrecy is leverage.” “Yes.” “No secrets, no control.” “Exactly.” Something changed in Elliot.
Not relief. Understanding. His confession had not simply been moral.
It had harmed Saint. That mattered. Ronan could see it.
“Don’t start enjoying yourself.” Elliot almost smiled.
“I’m not.” “Your face.” “My face is innocent.” “Sure.” Then Elliot frowned.
“Caleb’s brother.” “What about him?” “Still alive?” “Yes.” “Still with Caleb?” Ronan understood what he was really asking.
“Yeah.” Elliot looked down. “They still talk.” “Yes.” “How much?” “I don’t know.
” Elliot looked up. Ronan sighed. “Vance didn’t give me their fucking holiday schedule.
” A smile. Tiny. Then: “But he stayed.” There.
Ronan’s chest tightened. “Yes.” “After Caleb told him.” “Yes.” Elliot stared at the table. Ronan waited.
“He didn’t kill anyone.”
“No.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“But Saint thought Caleb would.”
“Apparently.”
Elliot looked at him.
“And his brother still stayed.”
“Yes.”
Ronan understood. Not comparison. Possibility. Proof that Saint’s entire philosophy was wrong. Truth did not always destroy love. Sometimes secrecy did more damage. Elliot swallowed.
“Why did Vance tell you?”
“She wants me to talk to Caleb.”
“No.”
Ronan stared. There it was. Same old Elliot.
“No?”
“No.”
“You are literally locked inside a county facility and still trying to control my schedule.”
“Yes.”
Ronan almost laughed.
“Why?”
“Because Saint knows Caleb.”
“So?”
“And Saint knows you.”
“Yes.”
“If you connect, Saint notices.”
“Probably.”
“No.”
Ronan leaned back.
“You realize saying no isn't legally binding.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“Don’t go.”
“Why?”
Elliot’s expression tightened. Ronan softened. There. Fear. Again.
“Because I can’t be there.”
The words came quietly. Ronan’s chest hurt.
“If something happens to you, I can’t do anything.”
That sentence had layers Elliot probably didn’t intend. No mask. No violence. No rescue. No physically reaching Ronan. Just locked doors. Ronan leaned forward.
“Maybe that’s good.”
Elliot’s eyes flashed.
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t fix everything.”
“That isn’t—”
“You said it yourself.”
Elliot stopped. Ronan continued.
“You don’t know how to sit with fear without turning it into a plan.”
“I’m getting better.”
“You’ve been incarcerated for eighteen hours.”
“Growth is fast.”
Ronan laughed. Then sobered.
“I’ll have Vance.”
“She got fooled by Saint repeatedly.”
“Police.”
“Same department.”
“Caleb.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Neither do you.”
“Exactly.”
Ronan shook his head.
“You’re impossible.”
Elliot leaned forward.
“Please.”
There. Fuck. Ronan stared. He had expected an argument. Not that.
“Please don’t go.”
His chest tightened.
“Elliot.”
“I know it’s irrational.”
That was new. Very.
“I know Vance will be there.”
Ronan remained silent.
“I know Caleb is probably not dangerous.”
“Probably?”
“Sorry.”
Elliot looked down.
“But I’m sitting in here while Saint is still out there, and every person Saint touches somehow becomes another way to get to you.”
Ronan wanted to reach across the table. Couldn’t. He settled for moving his hand to the edge. Elliot noticed. Moved his own close. Not touching. Almost.
“Hey.”
Elliot looked up.
“I’m not going today.”
Relief. Immediate. Ronan held up a finger.
“Today.”
Elliot’s expression tightened.
“I’m not promising never.”
“Why?”
“Because Caleb might know something that gets Saint caught.”
“Vance can talk to him.”
“Maybe he only talks to someone who understands.”
Elliot stared.
“You.”
“Unfortunately.”
“No.”
Ronan smiled faintly.
“Not deciding today.”
Elliot looked away.
“Fine.”
“Genuine?”
“No.”
“There he is.”
They stayed like that. Hands inches apart. No touching. Elliot stared at Ronan’s fingers. Then quietly:
“I miss you.”
Ronan stopped breathing for half a second. Not I love you. They had said that. Not I need you. That was familiar. Miss. Simple. Ordinary. Painfully normal.
“It’s been one night.”
“I know.”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Yes.”
Ronan smiled.
“I miss you too.”
Elliot looked up. There was so much naked relief in his face that Ronan felt something break inside his chest. No. Not break. Shift. He wanted to touch him. More than anything. He looked toward the officer. Then Elliot.
“Can I get arrested for touching you?”
“Probably.”
“Helpful.”
“I can ask.”
“No.”
Elliot almost smiled. Ronan moved his pinky to the very edge of the table.
Elliot looked. Then moved his own. The tips touched.
Barely. Probably against the rules. Fuck it.
Elliot’s entire expression softened. Ronan kept the contact.
One finger. That was all they got. Apparently it was enough. For now.
“I’m still here,” Ronan whispered.
Elliot nodded.
“I know.”
This time, when he said it, Ronan let him. The officer ended visitation at 10:42. Elliot stood. Ronan did too. Neither wanted to move. The officer opened the door.
“Time.”
Elliot looked toward Ronan. Fear again. Smaller. Manageable.
“Tomorrow?”
Ronan asked. Elliot blinked.
“What?”
“I’ll come tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to.”
Ronan stared. Elliot almost smiled.
“Wrong answer?”
“Very.”
“Then yes.”
Ronan nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
Elliot moved toward the door. Stopped. Looked back. Ronan remained standing. Still here. Then Elliot disappeared behind the locked door. Ronan stared at it until the officer looked uncomfortable.
“Sir?”
“Yeah.”
He left. Bell waited in reception.
“So?”
“So what?”
“How is he?”
Ronan looked toward the secured hallway.
“Scared.”
Bell nodded.
“Expected.”
“And annoying.”
“Also expected.”
Ronan smiled faintly. Then Bell handed him a folder.
“What’s this?”
“Something Detective Vance asked me to give you.” Ronan frowned. He opened it. Photograph. Man in his early thirties. Dark hair. Thin face. Nothing immediately remarkable.
CALEB WARD
Below it, another photograph. Caleb beside another man.
Older by maybe two years. Similar eyes. Brother.
Ronan flipped the page. A transcript. Only one line highlighted.
Something Caleb had told police the night before.
Ronan read. Then again. His stomach tightened.
Saint always asks what you love most before asking what you’re willing to do. Ronan stared. Bell watched.
“What?” Ronan turned the page. Another highlighted statement.
If Saint is still doing this, the person closest to the project is never just leverage.
They’re the final assignment. Cold moved through him.
Elliot. Ronan. The entire game. Not make Ronan kill for Elliot.
Not only. Make Elliot choose what happened to Ronan.
Ronan looked toward the locked corridor. Then at Bell.
“I need Vance.”
“Why?” Ronan handed him the transcript. Bell read.
His face changed. Ronan’s temporary phone rang.
Unknown number. His stomach dropped. He answered nothing.
Just stared. One message appeared. HOW WAS YOUR VISIT?
Ronan stopped breathing. Another. THIRTY MINUTES ISN’T VERY LONG. Saint knew. Of course. Another.
HE LOOKED SAD WHEN YOU LEFT.
Ronan’s jaw tightened. Bell leaned closer.
“What is it?”
Ronan showed him. Another message arrived.
DON’T WORRY. Then: I’LL KEEP HIM COMPANY.
Everything inside Ronan went cold. He looked toward the secure hallway.
Elliot was somewhere behind it. Locked inside a building full of police.
Exactly where Ronan had convinced himself he was safest. The phone vibrated again.
One photograph. Elliot. Taken through the narrow window of a holding-area door less than one minute ago.
Ronan stopped breathing. Saint wasn’t outside anymore. Saint was inside the building.