Page 195 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Yes.”

“What was inside?”

“Nothing.”

Ronan laughed. Elliot’s expression hardened.

“I mean it.”

“You bought three boxes, one ended up under your bed, one has receipts, and somehow the third vanished. Now it’s on our porch with your initials.”

“I understand why that looks bad.”

“That’s your favorite fucking sentence.”

Elliot looked away. Ronan stepped closer.

“What was the third box for?”

“I told you.”

“No. You said nothing.”

“Because it was empty.”

“Then why were your initials on it?”

Silence. Ronan’s stomach dropped. Elliot looked down at the floor. There. That was the first honest reaction. Not fear of the box. Recognition. History.

“You put them there.”

Elliot didn’t answer. Ronan’s pulse sharpened.

“You scratched your initials into the box.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So I knew which one was mine.”

“Whose were the others?”

“My mother’s.”

Ronan stared. That answer didn’t make sense.

“Your mother bought black storage boxes with you?”

“No.”

“Then explain it better.”

Elliot exhaled through his nose.

“They were originally for Christmas gifts. Mom asked me to order them. I kept three because she didn’t need all of them.”

Ronan watched him. Possible. Normal. Almost.