Page 258 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Elliot asked. Ronan checked. His face tightened.

“Yes.”

Elliot stood too.

“Don’t delete.”

“Very funny.”

Ronan opened it. A photograph loaded. For several seconds, Elliot didn’t understand what he was seeing. Bedroom. Dark. Two bodies asleep. Then recognition slammed into him. Ronan’s bed. Their bed, sometimes. The photograph had been taken from outside the window. Elliot stopped breathing. Ronan enlarged it. The image was grainy but clear enough. Ronan on his back. Elliot curled against his side. Ronan’s arm around him. Timestamp: THURSDAY · 3:17 A.M. Three weeks earlier. Before Mason. No. Mason had already died then. After Mason. Before Lucas. Another message appeared beneath the photograph. He sleeps better when he thinks you’re harmless. Ronan’s face went completely white. Elliot felt something inside him snap. Not fear. Rage. Immediate. Violent. Clean. He took the phone.

Ronan let him. The photograph. Their bedroom. Their private space. The blinds had been open that night. He remembered. Rain. Cool air. Ronan complaining that Elliot stole the blanket. Someone had been outside. Watching them sleep. Watching Ronan touch him. Watching something that belonged to Elliot. No. Belonged to them.

“This person was here.”

Ronan’s voice came quiet.

“Yes.”

“On the property.”

“Yes.”

“Before the box.”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

Elliot’s jaw tightened. Ronan looked at him. There was no suspicion now. Only horror.

“They saw us.”

“Yes.”

“Together.”

“Yes.”

Something about that upset Ronan differently. Exposure. Not murder. Not police. Them. Elliot understood. His own anger sharpened. The observer had crossed a boundary Elliot considered absolute. Ronan saw his face.

“Don’t.”

Elliot looked up.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Yes, I do.”

Elliot almost laughed.

“No.”