Chapter Thirty-Six — The Favorite #3
“That was either very smart or incredibly stupid.” “Usually both.” One monitor turned back on.
Single video. Live. Elliot. Federal detention annex.
His cell. Ronan’s blood went cold. Elliot sat on the bed reading something.
Alive. Safe. For now. Then another camera feed appeared beside it.
Hallway outside Elliot’s cell. Empty. Third feed.
Security station. Two officers. Fourth. Exterior.
Fifth. Parking garage. Saint had all of it.
Ronan’s chest tightened. Text appeared. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO FAILED PROJECTS?
Ronan looked toward the trophies. He knew. Then:
ASK DANIEL. ASK MARA. ASK ISAAC. Vance’s face hardened. Admission. Maybe. Then: THEY LEFT ME. There. Ronan stared. Saint killed them because they left. Not failure. Abandonment. Everything clicked. Samuel Cross. Adrian
disappearing. Projects. Attachment. Obedience.
Saint wasn’t merely studying people. He was recreating the same relationship over and over.
Finding someone damaged. Making himself necessary.
Punishing departure. Until Elliot. Favorite.
Why? Ronan looked at Adrian’s photograph. Then Elliot on the live feed.
“Your father.” The screens froze. Vance looked toward him.
Ronan continued. “Samuel.” No response. “You didn't learn this from him.” The Elliot feed remained. “You did this because of him.” The screen flickered. Good. Ronan stepped closer. “He left you.” Text appeared immediately. NO. There. Ronan’s heartbeat increased.
“Did he?” SHUT UP. Vance looked toward Ronan. He ignored her. “Samuel killed himself.” STOP. “And you spent the next six years finding people you could make incapable of leaving you.”
Every monitor shut off. The room went dark except tactical lights.
Silence. Ronan breathed. Saint had a wound.
Good. Not because Ronan wanted to exploit trauma.
Because Saint had spent years pretending to be something above human.
He wasn’t. Just Adrian. Damaged. Violent.
Controlling. A serial killer who dressed abandonment up as philosophy.
Then one monitor flickered on. No video.
Just text. YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME NOW? Ronan stared.
“No.” Pause. “Don’t care.” Nothing. “I only care about Elliot.” The words disappeared. Then: SO DO I. Ronan’s jaw tightened. “No.” He stepped closer. “You care about owning him.”
Silence. “I love him.” The monitor went black. Ronan exhaled. Then Vance’s radio exploded with noise.
“DETECTIVE.” Everyone froze. Vance grabbed it.
“Go.” “Annex reports security breach.” Ronan’s blood went cold.
“No.” Vance turned toward him. The officer continued.
“Power interruption on secure wing. Backup active.” Ronan was already moving.
Vance caught him. “Wait.” “Fuck that.” “Ronan.” “ELLIOT.” Another transmission.
“Officer down.” Everything inside Ronan stopped.
Vance’s face emptied. “How many?” “One confirmed.” “Elliot Mercer?” Ronan couldn’t breathe.
Static. Then: “Mercer is secure.” Air returned.
Barely. Ronan grabbed the wall. Vance continued.
“Lock the facility. Nobody enters or exits.” The officer answered.
“Already initiated.” Ronan looked toward the live-feed monitor.
Black. Saint had distracted them. Brought them here.
Showed them everything. While moving somewhere else.
Of course. His phone vibrated upstairs. He couldn’t hear it.
Still somehow knew. Saint. An officer rushed down holding Vance’s evidence pouch.
“Detective.” Inside, Ronan’s temporary phone lit. Message. Vance opened the pouch with gloves. Read. Then looked at Ronan.
“What?” She turned it. YOU FOUND MY OLD HOME. Another message. SO I VISITED HIS NEW ONE.
Ronan’s stomach dropped. Another. FAIR TRADE. Then a photograph. Elliot’s cell door. Open. Empty. Ronan stopped breathing. Vance immediately grabbed her radio.
“They said he was secure.” Another message arrived.
HE WAS. Then: UNTIL HE HEARD YOUR VOICE.
Ronan stared. “What does that mean?” Saint sent an audio file.
Vance played it. Ronan’s own voice. Perfect.
Elliot, it’s me. Come out. I need you. Ronan went cold.
AI. Voice cloning. The marine sciences building.
Same trick. Saint had used Ronan’s voice. On Elliot. Another message.
HE REALLY DOES COME WHEN YOU CALL. Ronan couldn’t breathe.
Vance shouted into the radio. “VISUAL CONFIRMATION ON MERCER NOW.” Static.
Chaos. Then the answer. “Mercer not in cell.” No.
Ronan grabbed Vance’s arm. “Find him.” “We are.” “FIND HIM.” Another transmission.
“Secure stairwell door breached.” Ronan’s entire body shook.
Saint had gotten Elliot moving. Using him.
His voice. His promise. Another message.
DON’T WORRY. Ronan stared. He hated those words.
Then: I’M FINALLY GOING TO MEET MY FAVORITE.
For three years, Saint had watched Elliot.
Studied him. Spoken to him. Manipulated him.
Loved him in whatever diseased way Adrian understood love.
But they had never actually met. Until now. Ronan looked toward the stairs.
“Get me to him.” Vance was already moving. This time, she didn’t tell him no.