Page 279 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“No.”

“Move.”

“No.”

“They’re downstairs.”

“I am aware.”

“My mask is downstairs.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“The sentence I never thought I’d hear in my fucking life.”

“Not now.”

Footsteps moved again. Kitchen. Then stopped. Silence. Elliot stared toward the bedroom door. Ronan whispered, “Police are outside.”

“There was a gunshot.”

“That doesn’t mean the officer is down.”

“It doesn’t mean he isn’t.”

Ronan’s expression hardened. Elliot continued.

“If whoever came in gets that mask, everything changes.”

“You confessed to me thirty minutes ago. I think everything already changed.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Then move.”

“No.”

Elliot looked at him. Ronan looked back. For one second, Elliot considered physically moving him. He could. Probably. Not easily. Ronan was bigger, stronger, and considerably more difficult to surprise than most people. But Elliot knew how. The thought appeared automatically. Angle. Balance. Knee. Wrist. Throat if necessary. He hated himself for thinking it about Ronan. Ronan saw something.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer.”

Elliot exhaled.

“I was thinking about how to get past you.”

Ronan stared.

“How?”