Chapter Thirty-Eight — After the Monster #2
Ronan stood too. No touch. Distance. Again. Elliot’s eyes asked. Tomorrow? Ronan nodded. Tomorrow. Then Rebecca stood.
“Elliot.” The room quieted slightly. He looked toward her. She walked to the rail. An officer started to stop her. Bell said something. The officer allowed her close enough. Not touching. Rebecca stared at her son.
“You lied to me.” Elliot’s face tightened.
“Yes.” “You did horrible things.” “Yes.” “You are going to answer for them.” His throat moved.
“Yes.” Ronan watched. Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“And I am furious with you.” “Yes.” “You scared me.” “I know.” “Stop saying you know.” Ronan almost laughed.
Everyone. Apparently universal. Elliot’s mouth twitched. Rebecca saw. Then started crying.
“I don’t know how to do this.” Elliot’s face finally cracked.
“Mom.” “I don’t.” He stepped as close as the officer allowed.
“I’m sorry.” Rebecca shook her head. “You keep apologizing like that fixes things.” “It doesn’t.
” “No.” Silence. Then Elliot whispered: “Do you still love me?” Ronan stopped breathing.
There. The question Elliot had never asked her directly.
Rebecca looked devastated. She answered immediately.
“Yes.” Elliot’s eyes closed. Ronan looked down. Too intimate. Too much. Rebecca continued.
“I don’t know how to love what you did.” Elliot opened his eyes.
“You don’t have to.” “But I love you.” “Yes.” “And I am going to be angry while I do it.” A tiny smile appeared through Elliot’s tears.
“That sounds familiar.” Rebecca looked toward Ronan.
Ronan smiled faintly. “Yeah.” She looked back.
“Visit.” Elliot froze. “What?” “When they allow it.” Rebecca wiped her face.
“I’ll visit.” Elliot looked like somebody had struck him.
Ronan understood. Promise. Again. People staying. Claire stepped forward next.
“That includes me.” Elliot stared. Claire pointed at him. “But I am still punching you someday.” The entire room almost laughed. Even Thomas. Elliot smiled. “Fair.”
Claire’s face crumpled. Then she turned away before she cried. Thomas approached. Harder. Ronan watched Elliot brace. Thomas stopped at the rail. Silence. Then:
“I don’t understand you.” Elliot looked down.
“I know.” “But your mother loves you.” “Yes.” “And Ronan apparently has no self-preservation.” Ronan frowned.
“Hey.” Thomas ignored him. Elliot almost smiled.
“And I made a commitment to this family.” His voice tightened.
“So I’m not disappearing either.” Elliot looked up.
Thomas did not say love. Not yet. Still.
He stayed. That mattered. The officer touched Elliot’s arm.
Time. Elliot looked toward Ronan last. Always. Ronan stepped closer to the rail.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Yes.” “Don’t sound surprised.
” “I’m not.” “Liar.” A smile. Then Elliot whispered: “Boyfriend?” Ronan almost laughed.
In court. Of course. “Yes.” Elliot’s smile grew.
“Good.” Ronan pointed at him. “Careful.” “Allowed.” Then the officers took him away.
Ronan watched until the door closed. Only then did he breathe.
Adrian Cross was arraigned that evening.
Ronan did not attend. He didn’t care. That surprised him.
For weeks, Saint had occupied everything.
Every conversation. Every room. Every choice.
Now Adrian was simply another defendant in another courtroom.
Good. Let him become ordinary. Let him hate it.
Ronan spent the evening at the carriage house with Rebecca, Thomas, and Claire.
Police had finally taken Elliot’s mask. The real one. Bagged. Documented.
Gone. Ronan stood in the storage room afterward staring at the empty black container. Nothing inside. For the first time, the emptiness felt right. Claire appeared behind him.
“Creepy little room.” “You were kidnapped.” “Yes.” “And this is creepy?” “Multiple things can be true.” Fair. She leaned against the doorframe. “He told you everything?” “Yes.” “Everything everything?” Ronan thought about Tyler. Saint. The five murders. Dylan. The mask. Probably.
“No.” Claire laughed softly. “At least you’re learning.
” Ronan looked at her. “What?” “With Elliot, there’s always another drawer.
” “That is incredibly reassuring.” “Sorry.” She looked toward the empty container.
“You staying with him?” Ronan stared. “Yes.” No hesitation.
Claire nodded. “Okay.” “That’s it?” “What do you want?” “Judgment?” “Oh, I’m judging.
” Ronan almost smiled. “He killed people.” “I know.” “He almost killed Dylan because of you.” “I know.” “He is violently possessive.” “I know.” “He’s probably going to prison. ” “I know.” Claire stared.
“Then there isn’t much left for me to say.” Ronan looked away. She softened. “You don’t have to defend loving him to me.” That sentence hit. Ronan looked back. “You might have to defend choices you make because of that love.”
There. Difference. Again. “But the feeling itself?” Claire shrugged. “Feelings are messy.” Ronan almost laughed. “Psychology major rubbed off on you.” “Unfortunately.” They left the storage room. Ronan closed the door. No mask. No secret. Just boxes. Finally.
At 11:47 P.M., Ronan lay alone in bed. That was the worst part.
Not police. Not court. Not Saint. The empty side.
Elliot had slept there two nights ago. Now detention.
Possibly prison eventually. Ronan stared at the ceiling.
Then turned toward the pillow. Elliot’s scent barely remained.
Pathetic. He grabbed the pillow anyway. His temporary phone vibrated.
He froze. Unknown numbers still did that to him.
He checked. Not unknown. Bell. Message. Elliot asked me to send this.
Approved communication. Then another. Text forwarded through counsel.
Ronan opened. You said tomorrow. His chest tightened.
He typed: I know. Bell apparently acted as the world’s most expensive middleman.
A minute later: Still coming? Ronan smiled. Yes. Pause. Then:
Promise? Ronan stared at the word. He could almost hear Elliot.
Not manipulation. Not anymore. Fear. Need.
Trust still learning how to exist. Ronan typed: Promise.
A minute. Then: Good. Ronan laughed. He typed: Careful with that word.
Bell forwarded: Allowed. Ronan stared at the screen.
Then smiled into the dark. Saint was caught.
Elliot was charged. Their family knew. The mask was gone.
Five people remained dead. Nothing about their future was simple.
Nothing about it was remotely normal. But for the first time since all of this began, there was no secret between Ronan and tomorrow.
He would wake up. Get dressed. Drive to the detention center.
Sit across from Elliot. And show up again. Not because Saint predicted it.
Not because Elliot begged. Not because Ronan believed love erased consequences. Because staying was his choice. And whatever
happened next, Ronan wanted at least that much of his life to belong to him.