Page 168 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“What did they say?”

Elliot looked away. Ronan stepped closer. “Did someone threaten you?”

“No.”

“Threaten me?”

“No.”

“Dylan?”

Nothing. Ronan's stomach tightened.

“Dylan.”

Elliot exhaled. “It's not a threat.”

“Then what?”

Silence. Ronan held out his hand. “Phone.” Elliot laughed quietly. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because you'll overreact.”

“That's not your decision.”

“Yes, it is when it's my phone.”

Ronan's jaw tightened. “Fine. Read it to me.”

“No.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

He turned away before his temper got the better of him. Three steps. Stop. Breathe. Turn. Elliot remained exactly where he'd been. Ronan lowered his voice. “You spent all morning telling me the police are trying to make me look like a murderer.”

“I said they're building around you.”

“Same difference.”

“No.”

“Then somebody sends you something that scares the shit out of you, and suddenly I don't get to know?”

“It didn't scare me.”

Ronan stared. “You nearly crushed my ribs the whole ride home.” Elliot's face changed. There. Caught. Ronan continued. “You think I don't notice you?” That landed differently. Elliot looked away. Ronan stepped closer. “I notice everything you do.”

“I know.”

“Then stop pretending.”

For several seconds, Elliot said nothing. Finally, he unlocked his phone. Ronan waited. Elliot didn't hand it over. He held the screen between them. One photograph. Dylan leaving his apartment. Timestamped twenty minutes before Elliot received it. Then the message beneath it. You aren't the only one watching. Ronan read it twice. His entire body went cold.

“What the fuck?”

Elliot locked the phone. Ronan immediately held out his hand. “Unlock it.”