Page 41 of Beneath His Robes

There was no real reason for it.

I wasn’t staying.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing here. I was running from the one person I couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how far I went. No matter how many nights I spent with other people, it was Elias I saw when I closed my eyes and Elias I heard in the silence.

I won’t mask my feelings, Ronan, because clearly that has not worked.” he said, walking me back to my truck, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “But we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep making a mockery of God and myself. I’m sorry.”

After that night, I packed my shit and drove away.

I fell back into the old life just as easily as I had left it. The same bullshit routine of drowning my hours in beer and cars, intent on fixing something instead of breaking it. Being a mechanic was my gift. I could take apart any vehicle and put it back together. They were simple, no complex layers that didn’t make any fucking sense.

I enjoyed the mediocrity of my habits, and I barely noticed how much time had passed since last seeing his face. The alcohol helped dull my memory of sitting in my truck crying my eyes out that night, like a bitch, all for the man that lived under the mask of his robes.

* * *

The grease under my nails was a familiar discomfort, a constant reminder that I was meant to be covered in filth. I grew up in that shitty trailer, and now my peace was pouring out in sweat to fix cars that were abandoned.

I wiped my hands on the rag hanging from my back pocket, leaning deeper under the open hood of the 1982 muscle car in front of me. I needed to focus on the engine. The hum of the city outside was barely a whisper inside the garage. Vegas was the city of lights, but the rest of the world in Nevada was a comfortable wasteland.

I was happy to crank up Pantera and lose myself in the steady rhythm of turning wrenches and cursing at stubborn bolts. I’d never admit it, but it didn’t matter how many cars I fixed. Despite my hours of slaving away on them, they’d never be the same.

Their conditions varied, but just like humans, once you were discarded, your worth was already lower no matter how much you changed yourself.

I was nearly done with the Chevy Camaro P22. She would be auctioned off to some man who didn’t throw her out for T-top leaks. The seals on this baby would last for years to come. I forced my mind to focus on the tasks at hand because every time my thoughts wandered, they went straight to him.

Elias.

Every fucking time.

I’d try to look at the engine in front of me, but there he was—his face, his damn voice. Even the sound of his name still echoed in my head like a warped tunnel with no light.

I let out a frustrated breath and turned back to the car, tightening a bolt a little too harshly until the wrench jumped out of my grip and clattered to the ground.

“Fucking hell,” I said, leaning down to snatch the escaped tool.

The garage door creaked open, and the sharp scent of fresh air flooded the room, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Hey, you still alive in here?” A voice cut through the silence, and I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing as I saw Travis stepping into the garage, one hand casually resting on the doorframe. He was leaning there like he hadn’t just walked in on me pretending to fix a car, not my life.

“Yeah, yeah, just making sure I don’t kill her before she kills me,” I muttered, wiping my hands again and tossing the rag into the bin.

Travis laughed, tapping the hood of the vehicle. “Story of my fucking life, bro.”

Travis was one of the few people who still put up with me, and God knew I needed someone like that in my life right now.

A mechanic by trade, a troublemaker by nature, and one of the rare friends I kept in touch with consistently. He’d been around back when things were simpler—back when I hadn’t fucked everything up.

He was another escort and one I commonly worked with when clients asked. We did everything from bachelorette parties to threesome cheaply paid porn videos.

“Looks like you’re about five seconds away from throwing her off a cliff. Want me to help?” he grinned, his usual cocky smirk lighting up his face.

Travis was always a light in the dark. He reminded me of Elias in that way. A calm to my chaos, but right now, that just hurt more.

I rolled my eyes but let a small smirk on my lips escape. “It’s not the car that’s the problem.”

Travis raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the garage and walking toward the bench where I’d been fiddling with the engine. He knew me too well and knew better than to push me for details if I wasn’t interested in giving them.

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