Page 230 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Silence. Everything stopped. Ronan looked at Elliot. Elliot forgot to breathe. Vance continued.

“White porcelain. Cracked.”

The room seemed to tilt. No. Impossible. The mask was downstairs. Storage room. Black container. Unless— Elliot’s pulse slammed.

“What?”

Ronan whispered. Elliot didn't answer. Vance asked, “Elliot?” He forced himself to speak.

“Yes.”

“Does that description mean something to you?”

Ronan’s gaze burned into the side of his face. Elliot swallowed.

“It sounds like the one from the footage.”

“Correct.”

“Was it the same?”

“We’re testing it.”

Elliot’s mind raced. His mask was in the storage room. It had to be. He hadn't checked since— When? The black box. Someone had been inside. Fuck. He moved. Ronan caught his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Storage room.”

Everything changed in Ronan’s face. Vance heard.

“What’s in the storage room?”

Elliot stopped. Too late. Ronan stared.

“Elliot.”

Vance’s voice sharpened.

“Do not enter that room.”

He looked toward the narrow door beneath the stairs. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Ronan looked between him and the door.

“What the fuck is in there?”

Elliot couldn't answer. Not safely. Not anymore.

“Elliot.”

Ronan’s voice cracked through him.

“Tell me.”

Vance was still on the phone. Listening. Police outside. Mask at North Ridge. Mask downstairs. Maybe. Elliot’s entire system of compartments began collapsing at once.

“Tell me you didn't,” Ronan whispered.

Elliot looked at him. The sentence barely made sense.