Page 399 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“True.”

“Plus prison might improve your personality.”

“Fuck you.”

“There he is.”

A knock sounded. Bell opened the door.

“Time.”

Ronan stepped away. Elliot immediately felt the absence. He hated it. Ronan moved toward the door. Stopped. Looked back. Still here. Then left. Bell closed the door. Elliot stared at it. For several seconds, he let himself feel the fear. Not of prison. Not even Saint. Of Ronan walking out one day and not looking back. Then Bell sat across from him.

“We need to discuss charges.”

Reality. Fine. Elliot looked toward him.

“Okay.”

Bell opened the folder. Before he could speak, shouting erupted in the hallway. Both froze. An alarm sounded. Not fire. Security. Bell stood.

“What the hell?”

The door remained locked. Elliot’s pulse jumped. Outside, voices. Footsteps. Then someone shouted:

“GET DOWN.”

Bell grabbed Elliot’s shoulder and pulled him beneath the table. A gunshot cracked somewhere beyond the room. Elliot’s entire body went cold. Ronan. No. He lunged upward. Bell caught him.

“Stay down.”

“Ronan is out there.”

“So are armed police.”

“Let go.”

“No.”

Another gunshot. Closer. Elliot fought him. Not enough to injure. Enough. Bell swore.

“Elliot.”

“RONAN!”

No answer. The lights flickered. Then went dark. Emergency red lighting came on. The security alarm continued. Elliot’s heartbeat hammered. Saint. It had to be. They had changed the game. He had confessed. Saint had lost control. So Saint had come to him. A speaker somewhere in the hallway crackled. Static. Then a voice. Warm. Male. Undistorted. The same voice from the marine sciences building. This time live. Elliot knew immediately.

“Good afternoon, Elliot.”

His blood went cold. Bell stared toward the door.

“What the fuck?”

Saint continued.

“I told you confession would ruin everything.”

Elliot stopped breathing. Then the voice softened. Almost affectionate.