Page 107 of Beneath His Robes

My heart was racing. My body felt like it was on fire, and I knew, without a doubt, that this would be the point of no return. Jack wasn’t going to let me go. He wasn’t going to let Ronan go. And if I didn’t play along—if I didn’t follow his demands—he would make sure that Ronan paid for my defiance.

I closed my eyes for a moment, the weight of it all crashing down on me. The fear. The anger. The helplessness. And then I thought of Ronan again—his smile, gentle touch, and how he had looked at me like I was worth something. I couldn’t lose him. I loved him.

But what was I supposed to do?

Jack was right. I wasn’t in control anymore.

Maybe I never was.

ChapterThirty-Seven

Elias

“Come up here, boy. Face your congregation and repent for your sins.”

I walked robotically up to the cross at the front of the room onto the ledge. My church felt so suffocating now, with the devil standing beside me, tainting the peace. Jack was holding a bucket filled with nails and a hammer looped in his belt loop.

“Do you repent?” he said, handing me the bucket and hammer.

I hesitantly reached out, accepting the items, unsure what he would demand from me. I thought about his question. So much had happened, so much that I couldn’t take back, and with absolute clarity, I realized I didn’t take anything back. I accepted my sins and embraced them because if loving Ronan was wrong, I never wanted to be right.

“No,” I said softly, letting the omission roll off my tongue smoothly.

Jack looked at me, pure malice in his drunken face. I didn’t see it coming. His hand reached into the bucket I held, grabbing a handful of the nails and locking me in his arms. I struggled to free myself, fear coursing through my body at his unpredictable nature and sporadic movements.

“You stupid fucking fool,” he said, forcing my mouth open and shoving a few of the nails into my mouth.

I struggled against him, my body bucking, but unable to break free. His fist smashed into my back, and the force made me inhale. Pain ravaged my body, my throat contracting over the sharp, rusty edges. Vomit immediately spewed out of my lips, the color…red.

“Do you repent?” he said again, and I could barely even breathe.

“N-No,” I choked out, more blood spilling from my mouth. “I choose…Ronan!”

The monster was angry, shoving me off the stage and onto my stomach. Nails rained down around my head, and the pin print felt like spikes when they landed on my skin. “Get up, you pathetic piece of shit. You are going to nail these into the door. Wouldn’t want anyone seein’ you just yet.”

Fear pulsed through me like a drug, my body vibrating as my hands shook. He was behind me, kicking me again, but now in my tender ribs. I felt the bones break, and I cried out.

“Oh, now you wanna cry? Shut up, boy. Get your ass over there and work on the fucking door!”

I could feel the nails going down my esophagus, slicing and tearing with every constriction of the muscle—more blood. I couldn’t stop puking, the feeling of that sharp object my body tried desperately to rid itself from. Jack was about to kick me again, his steel-toe boot raised high above my chest. It was all I could do to roll out of the way at the last second to avoid another assault.

It was like breathing broken glass, the inability to breathe correctly from the broken ribs rattling in my chest alone. A sickening feeling made me pause as I crawled toward the door.

I am not getting out of here. I will not be going back to Ronan’s arms. I…failed.

“What are you waitin’ for? Get up!”

Jack’s roaring demands hurt my head, those bellowing growls echoing off the very walls of my church. There was a ledge I managed the grip, slowly working my way up to my feet.

I felt off balance, damaged in my attempt to function normally.

I was still choking on the nails, and the blood continued to pour from my mouth. Every droplet made me weaker and weaker. One by one, I smashed the nails into the door, giving up my notion of escape, but I focused more on locking Jack in here with me. If I could take his escape, then maybe Ronan would be safe.

Jack watched me from behind. His leering gaze bore into my flesh, and his cruel smile reflected in the window’s glare. I was so exhausted by the time the final nail embedded into the door that my ribs were on fire. Sweat soaked my skin and clothes, creating a sticky-like glue to my body.

“Guess you ain’t useless when it comes to being a bitch. Get up here.”

His voice was in the back of the church, past the stage and cross. I couldn’t see past the tears that blurred my vision, but he had some type of liquid on the ground, pouring it from buckets he had brought here.

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