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Chapter Twenty-Five

Elias

When Ronan was finally sedated, I let my rage lead me to the car, knowing that I had one other place to speak my mind. My words would fall on deaf ears. I knew this, but I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try to fight for Ronan when I could. So often, I had failed him. This was my chance to show him that I would not fail him again. I was here.

I drove in silence, my thoughts plagued by the way his cries echoed through the hospital room. He was so scared, like that little boy I met in the forest eighteen years ago. He was lost and looking for someone to care for him and to help him when he couldn’t do it himself.

“I’m here,” I said to myself, a tear slipping down my face for Ronan’s choice being ripped away from him. I had to think about this. I had to force myself to put the pieces together so true justice was possible.

The medical reports described an object causing rectal tearing.

What could be found in a prison that had the capacity to do such damage?

They weren’t allowed to have anything like cans, no metal of any sort. The circular circumference made it even more puzzling.

A hairbrush? No.

That would not cause tearing even if forced.

It didn’t make sense.

Nothing of this did.

Forks and spoons were plastic, and toothbrushes were small and breakable. No recreation or personal item would be enough to cause that amount of damage!

I sighed in frustration, the will of determination possessing my body as sure as a spirit. I was shaking, sweating from the physical exertion of this maddening confusion. When I finally arrived at the prison, I felt like I had run a marathon.

I didn’t bother changing from my cassock.

These demons could see what awaited them at their end. I would be there, watching as their lives were drained, their veins filled with a drug that took their souls to face God himself.

I only wish I could be the one to press the button that ended them all.

* * *

Hours of waiting.

This was a tactic of theirs.

Hoping that one would get up and walk away.

Not me. Not this time.

They would answer my questions. I would not leave until I knew what happened and I was able to protect Ronan. If nothing else, I hoped to ensure the people responsible for his desperate cries in the dark would not go unanswered. I made a vow to God to protect my flock. But how could I protect wolves that were intent on harming the other lambs?

“Mister Criss?”

I looked at the greasy, leering man before me. He looked angered to be bothered by my presence. That much was evident in more than just my name being mispronounced.

There was nothing about him that said he gave his life to save civilians and uphold justice, except his badge shining on the blue uniform. This man looked like he was best friends with Jack, and even at this distance, I could smell the alcohol wafting from his breath.

“Father, Cross,” I corrected, turning my body to face him and extending my arm for him to sit beside me. The amount of time spent here made my body ache, but I wanted this officer to sit beside me, to put us on equal standing. “And you are?”

The man scoffed, ignoring my hand, and remained standing to tower over me. “Name’s Officer Mullins. What ya want, God-man? You asked to see the man on duty tonight. I got my ass dragged out here because of those fancy robes, clearly.”

Trying to keep my composure, I kept my face void of all my anger, smiling, if only in a tight line that lacked emotion in my eyes. “I am here to inquire about an inmate that I was told under your care. He is currently hospitalized for a brutal rape that occurred on your watch, officer.”

I could have sworn there was humor in his eyes. “Oh, right. Saint Clare. Pretty boy that got quite the following at gen-pop in Haeston Prison.”

My jaw flexed, and my teeth ground together. He was definitely enjoying this. But why?

“You understand that he is hospitalized? That an atrocity has happened to him, and you failed to protect him on your night of duty?”

The officer didn’t miss a beat, waving me off and gripping his hands in his tactile belt. His thumbs looped around the black leather, and he sighed. “Look, Father…Boys will be boys. I can’t stop every little love tap that goes on.”

“I do understand that despite you receiving a pension and the community money for your sworn duties, you are unable to pay attention to the distress of others enough to prevent such horrors. However, what I don’t understand is how you seem to be unbothered, even amused, by the fact that Ronan was put in the hospital by those bastards!”

My resolve was cracking, and now that subtle amusement turned into full-blown laughter. “Oh, feisty. Didn’t know that you two were so close. Guess him being such a beautiful boy gets attention in all places. Isn’t that right, Father?”

I was going to fucking hit him, knock his teeth in and watch him try to laugh through blood pouring from his nose.

No. Think. This will not help, Ronan. You are missing something. Look closer. He knows something.

I took a deep breath and thought about the medical report again: a blunt force invasion with a large circumference and length. What could be in a fucking prison like that?

Then I saw it.

The officers’ thumbs were still looped in the thick belt filled with tools. There was one object in particular he kept covered under his palm, almost if he was hiding it from my view.

A thick, black baton.

My eyes widened, and I couldn’t cover my shock as I stared at him.

His brow furrowed when he followed my gaze, and he cleared his throat, all that humor evaporating like mist under a new emotion…fear.

“Do you use that on inmates?” I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

The officer balked and staggered slightly. “Are you fucking kiddin’ me? No! I don’t do that at all.”

Now, I was the one smiling. “Interesting. See, as this place is a penitentiary, I would assume a baton would be used quite often to stop disturbances and combat difficult inmates.”

The officer was sweating now and even paler than before. “Oh…yeah—‘course. I meant, yeah, I use it, but only when I need to get the boys calmed down, ya know? You understand right?”

Everything clicked into place with a sickening clarity, and I looked directly into the man’s eyes as I stood at my full height. He was shorter than both Ronan and I, but I knew he found joy in being above another man and took pleasure in knocking them down to his pathetic level.

“Yes, Officer,” I said. My chest and the rosary that hung there were the only vision the man could see from how close I had gotten to him. “Now, I understand perfectly.”

And I was going to watch him burn for it. He and anyone else that hurt the man I loved.

I wouldn’t be the executioner. I was going to give this damning information to the detective and maintain my composure as I held onto Ronan while he healed. I made a promise to lead my flock, but God would have to forgive me this time. I was intent on leading these men straight to their own slaughter.