Page 75 of Beneath His Robes

“Exactly,” he said quietly. “He’s a smart man, crafty and manipulative. We believe he’s been planning this for some time. We don’t know where he’s hiding, but we have every resource we can spare out looking for him.”

I felt the heat of frustration build inside me. I wanted to scream at him, demand that they found Jack now, that they got him off the streets before he hurt anyone else. But all I could do was nod, my fingers still tightly gripping Ronan’s hand.

I turned my gaze back to Ronan. It felt like the world was falling apart around us, like the storm I could feel rising inside me was about to break, but I couldn’t let it.

Not here, not now.

I couldn’t let Ronan see my fear, my anger. He was too fragile for this, and I wasn’t going to make it worse.

I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself. “What happens now? What are we supposed to do while we wait for him to be caught?”

“We’ll do everything we can to protect Ronan,” the detective assured me, but the look in his eyes told me that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. “In the meantime, we advise you to stay alert. Jack knows how to manipulate people. He may come after Ronan again, and we don’t want to take any chances.”

The idea of Jack finding his way back to Ronan made my stomach turn. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let him hurt Ronan again. But what could I do? What was I supposed to do while Jack was still out there, free to roam or strike at any moment?

“I’ll protect him,” I said through gritted teeth, my hands shaking now as I ran them through my hair. “I’ll do whatever it takes. He’s not going anywhere.”

The detective nodded, his expression softening just slightly. “That’s good. That’s what we need right now. Ronan has been through hell, Father Cross. You’ve been through hell, too. But you’ve got to stay strong for him. For both of you.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. All I could think of was Jack, the man who had caused all of this, the one who had broken Ronan. The one who was still out there was still a threat to everything I held dear. My blood boiled again just thinking about him.

“I won’t let him hurt Ronan again,” I said through clenched teeth, my voice low but fierce.

The detective studied me for a moment as if weighing my words. Then he gave a short nod. “Good. We’ll do our best to make sure he doesn’t have the chance.”

He left just as quietly as he’d arrived, and the door clicked shut behind him.

I turned back to Ronan, feeling a deep ache in my chest. The weight of what we were facing had never felt heavier. Jack was still out there. And I didn’t know how much time we had before he struck again.

But one thing was clear. I wouldn’t wait around for Jack to make a move. I would make sure he never had the chance to hurt Ronan again. I would fight for him, for both of us. No matter what it took.

I looked down at Ronan, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and whispered to him once more.

“Stay with me, Ronan. Please. We’ve been through hell, but we’re going to make it through this. I promise. You are my true heaven. Let me be yours.”

I sat the stuffed deer in the crook of his arm, remembering how much comfort it had brought him when we were kids. I could only hope that when he woke up, he would feel that peace again, that somehow Captain Carpers could pull himself out of retirement and help his master one more time.

Dear God, I meant every word I said.

No matter how dark things got, no matter how hard the fight, I wouldn’t give up on him.

Not now. Not ever.

* * *

With Ronan sleeping, I couldn’t just sit there. I had to figure out some way to help him. I couldn’t offer medical assistance or stop those awful nightmares when he tossed and turned.

It broke my heart more and more, hearing his begging pleas in his sleep. Crying out for help and reliving those tormenting moments.

No matter how soft my voice was or how carefully I held his hand and tried to assure him he was safe, he fought me. His life was out of balance in his mind, a battle he was forced to lose over and over again.

It was too much.

I begged the doctors to give him a sedative to allow my poor, broken man to sleep in peace while his body healed. I didn’t care that I was using my title to sway them. I wasn’t asking. It was a demand.

“He is tormented in his dreams. He needs to be at peace in his sleep, or he will not heal properly,” I said, yet again at the nurse’s desk.

My impatience was growing, and I wasn’t leaving this time without my request being met. Ronan always told me I was a pushover and needed to stand strong for my desires like I did for my convictions. He was right.

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