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Chapter Thirty-Six

Elias

In the master bathroom, I let the steam from the shower cling to my skin, the warm water still trickling down my back as I stepped out and reached for a towel. My body felt heavy, relaxed, and completely spent from Ronan’s wicked mouth, but my mind was anything but at ease.

It had been a night full of contradictions, a whirlwind of emotions I wasn’t prepared to face. I realized that I wanted to be that man who held the love of my life’s hand at a diner. I wanted to shed these robes and accept him as the one I committed my soul to.

Maybe I would ask for his hand in marriage.

I always belonged to Ronan. My heart was still racing from the closeness I’d shared with Ronan, the taboo, of it all with Travis so close to us. He hadn’t woken up, but that didn’t stop my thoughts from spinning at the possibilities.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and wiped the fog off the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. I didn’t recognize the man in the glass. He was a mix of everything I had tried to suppress and everything I had tried to bury. But there he was, vulnerable, lost, and tangled up in desires that shouldn’t have a place in his life.

I leaned my hands on the counter, eyes closed momentarily as if hoping to ground myself. To move my feet forward and accept my decision to let go of my collar. I was on a leash for god the minute that woman died in the crash. I couldn’t keep being a bitch my entire life.

Ding.

The sharp sound of my phone vibrating against the bathroom counter broke the silence. My breath caught. I wasn’t expecting any messages.

Is Ronan texting me from the bedroom? He was asleep last I checked.

I dried my hands and grabbed the phone, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach when I saw the unfamiliar number scrawled at the top.

I didn’t want to open it. But my fingers were already moving before I could stop them.

It could be the Detective on Jack’s case.

It wasn’t.

The message was short, the words cold and commanding, a warning.

“Stop playing house with my son and come back to your church, faggot. Or else.”

I froze.

My grip tightened around the phone as a chill crawled down my spine. My pulse spiked, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a physical force.

I should’ve known.

I should’ve known Jack wouldn’t let me go that easily. He had always been like this—controlling, demanding, and completely unbothered by whatever consequences his actions might have on anyone else.

That much was evident when he let the child he was supposed to raise rot in prison for the crime he committed of murdering his own wife.

And now, he was dragging me back to that place—the church I had built my life around, the one I had sacrificed everything for. But it was never really mine, was it? It was just a prison now. And Jack was the warden.

“If you tell anyone, including your little butt buddy, I will fucking kill him.”

I bit my lip, a wave of anxiety crashing over me. The words echoed in my mind. It was a threat—an ultimatum. If I didn’t do what Jack wanted, what would happen? Did he know where we were? Could he really hurt the man I loved? What could he do to us ?

I could feel the weight of Ronan’s presence in my mind, the memory of his touch still burning on my skin. He had seen me, really seen me. He had been so patient, so gentle, as if he understood my struggles.

But Ronan didn’t need any more of the hell Jack had put him through. He was still recovering, still battling the nightmares every night. I couldn’t drag him back into this. He was finally smiling, able to be free. I couldn’t live with myself if I was the reason his body had more scars.

My heart twisted at the thought of lying to him. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to keep anything from him. But Jack’s threats hung in the air like a dark cloud. I had to leave him. I had to deal with this alone.

I swallowed hard, turning the phone over in my hands as if hoping the message would disappear. But it didn’t. It was still there. And I had to make a choice.

I couldn’t call the police.

He would know.

I couldn’t tell him no.

Not after he threatened Ronan. I couldn’t let him keep living in the shadows of his past under Jack’s thumb. But how could I protect Ronan? How could I protect myself from the mess that was Jack?

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath. The soft sound of Ronan moving around in the other room—his calls as he fought yet another nightmare, pulled me from my thoughts. He was still inside the bedroom, waiting for me. I should be holding him, telling him he is safe and okay. But I couldn’t. He wasn’t safe. Neither of us were.

I couldn’t let him see the message.

I couldn’t let him know about Jack threatening us. Not yet. Not when I was finally starting to feel something real. Not when I was starting to let myself believe that I deserved to be happy. Not when I made the choice to let go of my past, the robes, the collar, the responsibilities. Not when I finally chose him.

With a final, shaky exhale, I hit the lock button and slid the phone into my pocket.

I couldn’t ignore Jack. I had no choice. I had to deal with him and keep Ronan safe.

I would face Ronan after. I needed to be with him. To be honest, I finally had something that was mine.

Running had never gotten me anywhere but pain. Jack wouldn’t just go away. I couldn’t run forever.

I just…didn’t know what to do next.

* * *

Leaving Ronan in that bed was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

The car hummed softly beneath me as I drove through the night, the dark road stretching out ahead like an endless reminder of everything I had to leave behind. The lights of Vegas faded in the rearview mirror, replaced by the darkness of the desert, a void I felt like I was being pulled into. The air inside the car felt too warm and thick with tension, and my hands gripped the wheel tighter than necessary.

I couldn’t shake the cold knot in my stomach.

Jack’s message had burned into my mind.

“Come back to your church. Or else. Don’t tell Ronan.”

The threat was clear, the warning unmistakable, and despite everything inside me screaming to resist, to stay with Ronan, I knew I had no choice. The fear gnawed at me. I couldn’t risk what Jack would do, what he could do.

His control over everyone around him had always been suffocating, but I had gotten used to it and learned to endure it. But every time I thought Ronan had broken free, every time he tried to leave that life behind, something would pull him back in. And it killed me that I wasn’t there until now.

And now it was time.

I stole a glance at the passenger seat, where the collar of Ronan’s jacket still rested, a reminder of everything I was walking away from. The feeling of his touch, the softness of his words, and the quiet moments we shared all rushed back like a tidal wave. He had been my escape. He had been my salvation.

But I couldn’t bring him into this mess, not into the web of Jack’s threats and control. Ronan deserved better than a coward, someone without so many scars, without so many pieces missing. He deserved a future that wasn’t haunted by shadows of the past, by men like Jack who wanted to break him. I had to be his hero.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. The radio played softly in the background, but I barely heard it. All I could hear were my thoughts tumbling over each other, a storm of guilt and fear.

I thought about Ronan, about the way he had looked at me, the way he had accepted me with open arms, without judgment. I could feel the warmth of his touch still lingering on my skin, the softness of his voice telling me I didn’t have to be afraid of my past and that I didn’t have to be ashamed of it.

But now, I was leaving him. Walking away. Because of Jack.

The road ahead was empty, the desert stretching on either side like an endless expanse of nothing. It felt like the world was closing in around me, suffocating me with every mile I drove away from Ronan. My chest ached.

I thought about stopping, pulling over, calling Ronan. Telling him everything. About Jack. About the pressure. The threats. The fear that had always followed me. But then the message played over again in my head: “Don’t tell Ronan.”

The words echoed like a dagger, and I knew—if I told Ronan, I’d put him in danger. Jack had power. Too much power. That much was made very clear when he trapped Ronan in that hell instead of himself. And if I didn’t do what he wanted, if I didn’t return, I had no idea what Jack would do.

I’d seen what he could do before, the way he could twist people, break them, turn them into something they were never supposed to be. He killed Miranda. Forcing her to succumb to her own drug that she fought so hard to free herself of.

I couldn’t let that happen to Ronan. I couldn’t let Jack use him as leverage. The thought made my stomach twist in knots, and I had to focus on the road, on keeping my hands steady on the wheel.

I thought about all the things I had promised Ronan—the hope I had given him, the belief that he didn’t have to carry his past alone. But now, I was the one walking away from that promise. And it felt like my chest was being hollowed out with every mile.

I tried to push the thought of Ronan from my mind, but it was impossible. His face lingered in my memory, the way he had looked at me, the way his fingers had traced my skin, the warmth in his eyes. I could still feel the way his heart beat beneath my hand, the soft rhythm of his pulse. And I wondered if he was thinking about me too, wondering where I was and if I was okay.

I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to walk away from what felt like the only good thing I’d ever had.

But I couldn’t put him at risk. Not when Jack was still out there.

The headlights of the church came into view, piercing the darkness like a pair of cold, judgmental eyes. My stomach dropped, a sick feeling pooling in the pit of my gut. I pulled the truck to a stop in front of the doors, my hands trembling as I turned off the engine.

This was it—the point of no return.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the looming structure, feeling the weight of the decision pressing on me. Every inch of me screamed to turn the car around, go back, find Ronan, and tell him everything. To let him fight with me, to let him help me through this.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I opened the door and stepped out, my body stiff, my heart pounding. Each step toward the church felt like a betrayal, like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, but it wasn’t enough.

I had to do this. I had to face Jack, or else everything I had fought for—everything I had found with Ronan—would be destroyed.

I looked back at the car, my heart aching. Ronan was miles away, safe, but the distance between us felt infinite.

And I was afraid I might never find my way back to him.

The cold air cut through me like a blade. It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d been in Ronan’s arms, feeling his warmth, his understanding. But now, the distance between us felt unbearable, like a chasm I was about to fall into.

The moment I had stepped away from him, I’d felt that shift, that pull of guilt and fear that had never fully left me, always lingering in the background.

The church loomed before me, its stone walls dark and imposing at night. The lights flickered faintly in the stained-glass windows, a lonely glow casting long shadows across the gravel lot.

It had always been my sanctuary, my place of solace. But now, it was just a prison. I couldn’t shake the sick feeling crawling under my skin, the weight of my choice. I had chosen Jack over Ronan, and that decision felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders, the chill of the night sinking into my bones. Every step I took toward the church felt heavy, each footfall echoing in my mind, reminding me of how far I was from the one person who had made me feel like I mattered. The one person who didn’t see the broken pieces of me, the darkness of my past, the things I’d done that still haunted me.

Ronan saw me, the person I could be, not the man I had been.

And I had just walked away from him.

The church doors loomed ahead, creaking open as I approached, the familiar scent of incense and old wood filling my lungs. It felt like stepping back into the past—where I had once found comfort in my faith, where I could bury all the things I couldn’t face. But that comfort was no longer there. All I could feel now was the heaviness in my chest, the sick twist of dread curling in my stomach.

I didn’t have to look up to know Jack was waiting for me. I could feel his presence before I even saw him, that oppressive, suffocating energy that always made my skin crawl. His shadow stretched across the dimly lit aisle, a figure who was more a symbol of control than a man.

He was standing at the altar, his back to me, staring down at the rows of empty pews. He didn’t turn as I entered or acknowledge my presence immediately. But I could feel his gaze, even if he wasn’t looking at me.

“Elias,” Jack’s voice rang out, cold and commanding.

His tone sent a ripple of unease through me, and I found myself instinctively standing a little straighter, even though I hated myself for it. “Glad you came. Knew you were such a good little slave.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight, and took a few more steps forward, the weight of his words pushing down on me. The air in the church felt thick, suffocating. The heavy scent of incense burned my nostrils, and I could almost taste the fear settling in the back of my throat.

I couldn’t allow myself to back down now, even though every part of me screamed to leave, to turn around and run back to Ronan. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let Jack have that power over us again. Not this time.

“I’m here,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I felt.

I tried to keep my gaze fixed on his back, not allowing myself to show the nervousness crawling under my skin. “What the fuck do you want?”

Jack didn’t respond right away, his hands gripping the edge of the altar. I could hear his breath, steady but controlled, like he was trying to hold back something much darker beneath the surface.

“Such language from a supposed man of God,” he said, mocking laughter in his drunken tone. “You know why I called you back here, don’t you?”

He finally turned around, his eyes narrowing on me, the usual smugness twisting his expression.

“You think you can just walk away from me, you and my queer son? You think I would let you run off into the sunset together after you got me chased around like a fucking dog?”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the rage and fear bubbling up inside me. I couldn’t look at him without seeing the man who had broken Ronan in more ways than I could count. We had been fools to think we could outrun him and escape his grip.

He thought I was weak. But I wasn’t that person anymore. I wasn’t the same naive boy he had watched pine for his son all those years ago.

“Jack,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t owe you anything. You are a monster, and the police will find you eventually. You will pay for your crimes. You don’t own this town anymore. You don’t own Ronan anymore. He is not your fucking puppet.”

His lips curled into a twisted smile, one that sent chills down my spine.

“You’re right. You don’t owe me anything,” he said, his voice low, almost too calm. “But I’m not the only one who needs to atone for my actions, am I, Father?”

My stomach dropped at his words. He knew. I could feel the tension in the air, a deadly kind of silence settling over us, and I knew exactly what he meant. He was threatening me. Threatening Ronan.

I took a step back, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” I said, the words sharp, desperate. “I do not regret loving him. You stay away from him. If you want me to confess my sins, so be it. But you leave him the fuck alone.”

Jack stepped forward, his expression turning dark, predatory.

“You really think you can stop me?” he sneered. “You think you can protect him? You’ve already made your choice, Elias. I don’t have to do anything. He’s already in danger because of you. Because you couldn’t keep Your dirty dick in your damn robes.”

I felt my chest tighten with panic. My thoughts immediately went to Ronan—his face, his smile, his laugh—and the thought of anything happening to him, anything at all, sent a cold sweat down my spine. I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t let Jack destroy him like he had tried hard to do all his life.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” I growled, my fists clenching at my sides. “If you hurt him—if you touch him—I swear to God, I will?—”

“You’ll what?” Jack interrupted, his eyes narrowing, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not in control here, Elias. You never were. Now, you’re my little bitch. I hold your fucking collar. You’ll do what I say, or it won’t be just you gettin’ your fucking reckoning.”

My heart was racing. My body felt like it was on fire, and I knew, without a doubt, that this would be the point of no return. Jack wasn’t going to let me go. He wasn’t going to let Ronan go. And if I didn’t play along—if I didn’t follow his demands—he would make sure that Ronan paid for my defiance.

I closed my eyes for a moment, the weight of it all crashing down on me. The fear. The anger. The helplessness. And then I thought of Ronan again—his smile, gentle touch, and how he had looked at me like I was worth something. I couldn’t lose him. I loved him.

But what was I supposed to do?

Jack was right. I wasn’t in control anymore.

Maybe I never was.