Page 112 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Ronan laughed softly.

“You really are good at this.”

“Ronan.”

The use of his first name made his irritation spike again. He knew exactly why she did it. Personal. Friendly. Closer. He hated that too.

“He said he'd break Dylan's fingers if Dylan touched me again.”

Vance's pen stopped. The room became very still. Ronan immediately wanted the sentence back. Not because Elliot had meant it literally. Probably. Because spoken aloud here, in this room, surrounded by murder, it sounded completely different. Vance looked up.

“When?”

“Before any of this.”

“How long before Mason died?”

Ronan stared. Fuck.

“Maybe a week.”

“Did Dylan know about the threat?”

“No.”

“Did Lucas?”

“No.”

“Mason?”

“No.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because Elliot said it to me.”

“Where?”

“Our parents' property.”

“Anyone else present?”

“No.”

Vance wrote. Ronan felt the first real thread of anxiety pull through his chest. Not for himself. Elliot.

“Don't.”

Vance looked up.

“What?”

“Don't turn some jealous bullshit into motive.”

“I haven't.”

“You're thinking it.”