Page 412 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Ronan nodded. Elliot touched the bruise near his cheek.

“Who?”

“Guy with gun.”

“I’m going to—”

Ronan stared. Elliot stopped. Promise.

“No.”

Ronan smiled. Tiny.

“Growth.”

“Fuck you.”

“There he is.”

Elliot’s hand remained against his face. Ronan leaned into it. Public. Police everywhere. Nobody cared anymore. Or Elliot didn’t.

“Saint?”

Ronan asked.

“Gone.”

“Of course.”

“Nathan said seven.”

Ronan frowned.

“What?”

“Projects.”

His expression changed.

“Seven people like you?”

“Like Nathan and me.”

“How many alive?”

“Three.”

Ronan’s stomach visibly tightened.

“Us included?”

“I don’t know.”

Vance overheard.

“Seven what?”

Elliot looked at her. There it was. Another decision. Hide. Or stop. He was tired of hiding.