Page 101 of Beneath His Robes

Ronan’s hands slid up to my back, pulling me closer as his lips moved to my neck, sending a wave of warmth through my body. Every touch felt electric, every kiss a promise. I could feel the weight of his desire pressing against me, matching the thundering of my own heart.

For once, there were no more questions, no humming guilt residing in the back of my mind. There was only me and him.

Ronan Saint Clare and Elias Cross.

ChapterThirty-Five

Ronan

For the first time in my life…Elias was in my bed. Cuddled up to me and allowed me to hold him close.

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of our breathing, both of us tangled up in the sheets after a night of vulnerability I hadn’t expected. Elias lay beside me, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the window, casting a faint halo around his features.

His eyes were closed, but I could feel the weight of his thoughts, the heaviness of everything he had yet to say.

We hadn’t talked much since the tension between us had cracked open like a dam breaking. Now that the storm had passed, the silence felt almost too loud, too intimate. It was like we were both suspended in time, unsure how to proceed, but knowing this moment—this fragile peace—was important.

How could he be a priest to others and keep me in secret? Was it really possible to do? Would that break Elias with more of that guilt he couldn’t seem to shake?

I shifted closer to him, my fingers grazing his shoulder, wanting to close the distance.

“Hey,” I said quietly, my voice breaking the silence, “I know we’re…figuring things out. But I want to know about you. Your past. I know there’s a lot you haven’t said.”

Elias’s breath hitched slightly, and I felt him tense under the weight of my question, like he was pulling into himself again. But then, with a small, resigned sigh, he rolled over to face me. His eyes met mine, vulnerable and open in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve got a lot of baggage,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “You know, I…I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t always this…careful, far from holy, in fact. It is kind of pathetic.” His lips twisted into a small, bitter smile. “I was reckless. Untamed…fucking wild, Ronan. Worse than even you.”

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, my thumb gently brushing over his hand. I could feel the weight of his past pressing on him, the way his eyes flickered with something old and dark. It was like he was reliving it right in front of me.

“I was…addicted,” he continued, his words slow and deliberate, as if he were carefully choosing them, making sure they didn’t sound too harsh, too revealing.

“Not just to the drugs, though. That’s the easy part to talk about. Sex, women, men. It didn’t matter. None of them were you, so I didn’t care. It was more the rush of it all. The feeling of anything…just to escape my mind.

The painful memory of us. I thought if I threw myself into the chaos, it would make everything else go away. The loneliness. The emptiness.”

He paused, eyes distant. “I was searching for something. Something I thought I could find in all the wrong places…you.”

He turned his body toward me a little more, his eyes locking on mine as if waiting for me to judge him. But I didn’t because I understood. I understood that need for escape, the feeling of wanting to drown out the world, even if it was just for a little while.

That was why I became a prostitute. Trying to drown myself in bodies and money. I wasn’t able to do anything but dance, fuck, and work on my damn cars. It was the only thing I enjoyed.

“I…got someone killed. Reckless. Completely out of my mind,” he added, his voice low, almost hesitant. “A woman died because I was high off my ass on the road. I honestly didn’t care where I ended up before that.

I just wanted the pain to stop. I thought I deserved it, you know? I thought the chaos was what I deserved. But I didn’t…I didn’t realize I was dragging other people down with me. That It would cost so much.”

My hand found his, squeezing it gently.

“It was an accident,” I said, my voice steady. “You can’t punish yourself for a mistake all your life.”

Elias met my gaze, and we just stared at each other for a moment. I could see the weight of his past, the guilt still pressing on him. It wasn’t something that could be easily shrugged off, even if he wanted to.

“The accident wasn’t to me,” he said quietly. “I hurt someone, Ronan. I killed someone. They didn’t make it. Their family has to live every day without their loved one because of my actions. And that…that’s something I’ll never get away from. It’s always there.”

His eyes were filled with something raw, something torn.

“That’s when I realized I couldn’t keep living like that. I had to stop. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to fix myself or pull out of that downward spiral. I found Father Franklin, and he showed me faith. He taught me to believe in a power above myself. For the first time in so long since the pain of losing you, I felt like I was going to be okay. That’s when I made my vows. That was why I became a priest.”

I didn’t have the words to say what I wanted. I wanted to tell him that he wasn’t defined by that mistake, that it didn’t have to control his life forever. But I also knew that guilt was something he would have to learn to live with. I could be here for him, but I couldn’t take that pain away.

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