Page 388 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Never made me lie to Vance.” “That one is less romantic.” “Still counts.” A tiny smile. Ronan continued. “And Saint sure as fuck didn’t make me call you my boyfriend five minutes ago.” The smile grew. There. “Boyfriend.” “Do not start.” “I like it.” “I know.” Ronan looked toward the parking lot. Then sighed. “Fine.” Elliot blinked. “What?” “We go.” “To Nathan?” “Yes.” Hope. Immediate. “But.” Elliot groaned. “Of course.” “I’m in the room.” “No.” “Then we don't go.” “Ronan.” “Nonnegotiable.” Elliot stared. Ronan stared back. Finally: “Fine.” “Genuine?” “No.” “Works.” “And if Nathan says something you don’t like?” “I’ll try not to beat the prisoner.” “I was asking whether you’d leave.” Ronan stopped. Ah. There. Fear again. “No.” Elliot studied his face. “Promise?” That word. Ronan didn’t hesitate. “Promise.” Elliot exhaled. “Okay.”

Ronan touched his jaw. No kiss. Too public. Too complicated. Elliot leaned slightly into the hand anyway. Then the hospital doors opened. Rebecca emerged walking beside a nurse despite the wheelchair waiting three feet behind her. Of course. Elliot’s entire expression softened. Ronan saw it happen. Son. Not killer. Not Saint’s experiment. Not monster. Just her son. Rebecca spotted them.

“You two ready?”

Elliot immediately went to her.

“You’re supposed to use the chair.”

“I am forty-seven, not ninety.”

“Mom.”

“Elliot.”

“You were hypothermic.”

“I was cold.”

“Your temperature—”

Rebecca put one finger against his mouth. Ronan started laughing. Elliot glared. She looked at Ronan.

“Please control your boyfriend.”

Silence. All three froze. Rebecca’s eyes widened. Ronan looked at Elliot. Elliot looked like somebody had physically rebooted him. Rebecca slowly lowered her hand.

“Was that the wrong word?”

Ronan smiled.

“No.”

Elliot looked at him. Ronan shrugged.

“Apparently not.”

Rebecca smiled. Small. Still uncertain. Trying. Elliot’s eyes went suspiciously bright. He immediately looked away. Ronan stepped closer. Not enough to embarrass him. Enough. Rebecca saw. Said nothing. They walked toward the parking lot together. For the first time since Saint entered their lives, Ronan felt something close to hope. Not because Saint was gone. Not because Vance was close. Not because Nathan was talking. Because Elliot had been given exactly the kind of choice Saint believed defined him. And Elliot had chosen differently. That mattered. Maybe people were more than the worst thing they had done. Ronan still wasn’t sure. Five dead people made that question harder than most. But Elliot walked beside his mother now, lecturing her about wet clothing and core temperature while Rebecca rolled her eyes.

He looked back once. Checking. Ronan was still there. Elliot relaxed. That mattered too. Nathan Reed looked worse than Ronan remembered. Bellweather Police had placed them in an interview room at 3:18 P.M. Nathan sat on the opposite side of a bolted table wearing county-issued clothes and a bruise across half his face. Elliot sat beside Ronan. Vance stood near the door. Two officers remained outside. Nathan smiled when Elliot entered. Ronan immediately hated him.

“There he is.”

Elliot’s body tightened. Ronan touched his knee beneath the table. Stay. Elliot relaxed. Nathan noticed. His smile widened.

“And you brought him.”

Ronan leaned back.

“Disappointed?”

“No.”

Nathan looked at Elliot.

“I told you he’d choose you.”

Elliot’s face remained blank. Nathan continued.