Page 62 of Beneath His Robes

and may your soul be free of fear,

as you follow the path to the spark.”

The nurse silently flipped the monitor off, and the man before me inhaled a deep final breath before his chest became still. I continued the prayer, freeing the soul from the battered body and those around him.

They were stagnant in their grief, knowing he was gone but unable to let go. Hopefully, this could give them the peace they needed. The key was to unburden their hearts with what they couldn’t control.

“May your transition be tender and calm,

and may you know you are not alone.

In the arms of love, in the arms of peace,

may you find your way home.”

I pray that one day, we will all find our own peace. Our own home. Despite the pain, we must endure to make it there.

ChapterTwenty

Ronan

I sat on the cold bench in my cell, the stone walls pressing in on me like they were closing down around my soul. My hands were clenched into fists, but I didn’t even notice. I couldn’t focus on anything in this godforsaken place except the endless pull of my thoughts. And right now, they were all on him…Elias. Like they always were. I should be thinking of a way to get out of this fucking hell hole.

I stared through the small window, the faint light from the sky outside doing little to soften the gray walls around me. I couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun, just the cold of the prison that was now my reality. But my mind wasn’t here, not really. It was with him.

Elias had somehow become my anchor. His voice still whispered through my mind, calm and steady, a stark contrast to the storm I felt inside. He’d always been so kind, even when I didn’t deserve it.

He was the only one to tell me that the snake Jack slithered his way out of these bars, just as sure as the devil himself would. A wicked tongue that spun lies sweet as Eden’s fucking apple. Elias had shown me grace, and now that I was here, locked away for something I couldn’t undo, his presence felt even more unreachable.

I closed my eyes, and I could still see the smirk on my stepfather’s face. I still hear his words echoing in my ears. I couldn’t stand it, not anymore. I couldn’t stand watching Miranda get knocked around yet again. He broke her sobriety. Ended years of patience, strength, and painstakingly critical improvement. It burned my soul like a tear in the fabric, knowing that she still wouldn’t leave him if she woke up. I couldn’t handle her forgiveness for him. So, I did something I never thought I would in all those years, shackled with his drunk slurs of hate and abuse. I hit him. Hard. Too hard. With a fucking chair. It didn’t matter that I was angry or trying to protect her or Elias from his cruelty. Now, I was stuck behind these walls and being painted as ‘the man who put his own mother into critical care.’

The guilt gnawed at me.

I’d lost my temper, and now I was paying for his crime.

But what hurt more was that Elias was breaking his vows for me. It started with his attempts to lie to get me out of the cops’ hold, and it stretched to being in this place. He shouldn’t be visiting me here, tainting his robes with the foul energy of the lost souls here.

I could hear his words in my mind, his soft tone always bringing me peace. But it wasn’t enough. I needed him to be safe, to get the fuck out of here and stop playing this damn game we were always in—A rubber band that was pulled taut only to snap back to the beginning and start the process all over again.

I needed to know he could move on. I never should have come here, never should have whispered my sins to him in that confessional. It felt so long ago that I watched his hands go pale white on the wooden ledge, trying to resist me.

I turned my gaze back to the window, my chest tightening with the thought of him. How could I have let it all go so wrong? How could I have let this happen? How could I leave the love of my life to fend for himself with the coiled snake I provoked?

“Inmate!” the bulky guard barked. “Saint Clare, it’s time for cafe hours. Get up and place your hands against the wall.”

I jolted at the tone of the guard, not used to all the fucking screaming around this place. Sighing, I stood up and walked to the bare gray wall, placing my hands above my head. The officer walked inside, and the loud buzzing sound made me flinch. He ran his hands over my shoulders, sliding them down over my ass and between my thighs.

I stiffened, grimacing, when he kicked my legs apart. His meaty hands gripped my hair and yanked my head back.

“Oh, don’t even play, boy. I know you like it up there. You ain’t foolin’ anyone ‘round here.”

I swallowed my anger, and insults, trying to calm myself when he continued to grope my package and linger on my dick. It felt like the seconds ticked on forever until he locked my hands behind my back with the rusty metal cuffs.

“I know who I am and what I like. But do you, Officer?”

The cop smashed my head into the hard concrete of the wall and laughed when I fell down to the ground from the assault. My hands were cuffed behind my back, and I had no way of picking myself up. My forehead was busted, and blood began leaking into my eye. I ignored the sting and tried to readjust myself on the floor, but another cop reached down and yanked me to my feet.

“I suggest you keep that pretty mouth shut before someone else does,” he said, holding my chin, forcing me to look at his ugly mole-infested face. “We can be your friends here, or we can be your enemies. With your history and your little dance job, I recommend you keep us as friends.”

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