Page 401 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“Do not.”

Elliot stared at the hand. Then at Bell.

“Please.”

Bell froze. That word. Apparently everyone who knew Elliot long enough understood when it mattered.

“Please let go.”

Bell’s expression changed. Not agreement. Concern.

“I cannot let you run into an active shooter situation.”

“Then come with me.”

Bell stared.

“That is somehow worse.”

A voice shouted outside. Another officer. Movement. Then silence. The alarm stopped. That was worse. The sudden absence made every sound sharper. Footsteps. A door slamming. Someone shouting a name Elliot couldn’t understand. Then his temporary holding-room speaker crackled. Saint.

“Still sitting?”

Elliot’s entire body went cold. Bell looked toward the ceiling. Saint laughed softly.

“I expected better.”

“Where is Ronan?”

Silence. Then:

“Ask nicely.”

Elliot closed his eyes. Fuck. Bell looked at him.

“Do not engage.”

Elliot ignored him.

“Where is Ronan?”

“Better.”

“Answer.”

“You confessed.”

Elliot’s jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“No.”

A pause.

“You were supposed to need me.”