Page 283 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“He cut you.”

“It’s shallow.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

The intruder moved. Elliot lunged. Ronan caught him. Police boots thundered up the staircase.

“DOWN!”

Weapons. Flashlights. Voices. Everything became chaos. Ronan shoved Elliot backward.

“Hands.”

“What?”

“Show them your hands.”

Elliot understood. He raised them. Police filled the hallway. One officer stepped over the dropped knife. Another forced the intruder onto his stomach. Handcuffs. Commands. The man laughed even while they restrained him. Elliot stared. Then one officer pulled off the fabric mask. Elliot stopped breathing. Ronan whispered:

“Who the fuck is that?”

Elliot knew him. Not well. Enough.

“Nathan.”

The man looked over. Blood covered his mouth. He smiled. Ronan turned.

“You know him?”

Elliot’s stomach tightened.

“Nathan Reed.”

“Who is Nathan Reed?”

The answer arrived reluctantly.

“Bellweather.”

“That does not answer the question.”

“Nathan was in my statistics class last year.”

Nathan laughed from the floor.

“Statistics.”

One officer told him to shut up. He didn’t.

“That’s all I was?”

Elliot stared. Ronan looked between them.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Nathan smiled wider. Police hauled him upright. He was maybe twenty-four. Average enough that Elliot had barely remembered him after the semester ended. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Thin scar near his chin. Nothing memorable. Except now. Nathan’s gaze stayed fixed on Elliot.