Page 60 of Beneath His Robes

It was so clear that he was used to pushing people away and shutting himself off when things got hard. But I couldn’t just walk away—not now.

Not after everything.

He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me sticking my nose into the situation. If I hadn’t pissed off Jack worse than he was, he would have staggered back to his hole, and Ronan wouldn’t have gone into the blind rage that landed him here.

This was my fault.

It was my fault that Ronan was being blamed for the condition that his mother was in. It was my fault he wasn’t safe in his club in Vegas.

“Ronan,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though I was careful not to raise it.

I wasn’t here to fight with him. I wasn’t here to tell him what he should or shouldn’t feel. “Of course, I care. I’m here because I care. You don’t have to do this alone…”

He scoffed, his eyes flicking away from mine as if the truth was too much to face.

“Alone?” he muttered, almost to himself. “Alone’s all I’ve ever been. You think it’s different now? You thinkyoucan fix this? Why don’t you do what you do best, Father, and run away? I don’t need you. I never did.”

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t running and would never stop trying. But I knew it wouldn’t work. Not now, not when the walls he built around himself were so high. Higher than mine had ever been. He didn’t believe it, and I wasn’t sure I had the words, either.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and thick. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched every now and then like he was still trying to fight.

But this fight?

This was different.

This wasn’t a fight I could help him win with just a few words or comforting gestures.

“Jack,” I finally said, my voice softer now, knowing I owed him the truth at least. No one else would tell him. “He’s free, Ronan. They let him out. You are in here for nothing. Was it worth it?”

At the mention of his stepfather’s name, Ronan’s jaw clenched so tight I thought he might break something. His eyes darkened, and I could see the fury simmering just beneath the surface. But the longer he stared at me, the more that anger seemed to fade, replaced by something else I couldn’t quite read.

“Yes,” Ronan said, his voice low, almost like a confession. “He deserves more. He’s hurt her for years, and I can’t let him keep getting away with it. I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. Not after everything he’s done. Not after what he’s done to her. Not after he fucking threatened you in your place of worship.”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, I saw the pain behind the anger. He was trying so hard to hide it and bury it under all this rage, but it was leaking through every word.

“I know,” I whispered, leaning in just slightly, though I knew the glass would keep me from closing the distance completely. “I know what he’s done to you both now…I should have known. There were so many signs, and I was ignorant. We all were. Everyone failed you. I am so sorry you dealt with that alone. I won’t forgive myself. I know you are hurting. But just remember you’re not him, Ronan. You’re not him, and you don’t have to be. I will get you out of this mess I got you in.”

Ronan met my gaze again, his eyes full of conflict, of pain, and maybe a little bit of that same defiance. His walls were still up, but I could see the cracks now.

“Don’t let him win,” I added, my voice gentle but steady. “Don’t let him turn you into someone you’re not. Don’t lose that person that I…that I love.”

He was quiet for a long time, his eyes staring at the table between us like he could find some kind of answer there.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he murmured, his words fragile, like they were coming from a place too raw to hold inside his head. “But I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t know how to…I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to fix it. He has so many fucking friends that are evil as he is. This is the world we live in. The innocent are crucified for the sins of others, remember?”

My heart broke for him at that moment. He wasn’t the monster Jack wanted him to be, but I could see the toll it had taken on him.

“You don’t have to be a martyr, Ronan,” I said, my voice firm yet gentle. “You just have to let people help you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”

He didn’t answer.

He just sat there, lost in thought, his eyes cast downward again.

I knew he wasn’t ready to believe me, not yet. Not after the number of times I ran from him. But maybe, just maybe, the words I’d said would find a place in him eventually.

The guard came to the door, signaling that our time was up. I stood, my legs feeling heavier than they ever had before sitting down. Ronan didn’t move or say anything as I made my way toward the exit. But just as I was about to leave, I looked back over my shoulder, catching his eyes one last time.

“I’ll see you again,” I said, not as a question but as a promise.

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