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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ronan

The drive had felt like an eternity, the roads stretching endlessly in front of me as my mind raced, a swirl of worry and dread clawing at my chest. Every mile closer to the church made my heart beat harder and faster, the fear deepening. Something was wrong. I could feel it deep in my bones.

When I pulled up to the church, it was eerily silent. The lights in the windows were off, and the heavy door was locked tight. I got out of the car and moved toward the entrance, my hand trembling as I reached for the old wooden door. It didn’t budge. Locked? No, it was more than that. It was barred and closed. I could see nails jutting out of the sides of the door’s paneling.

I knocked, my fist thudding hard against the wood, my breath shallow as I tried to steady myself. No answer.

“Elias,” I whispered his name under my breath, but there was no response.

A creeping sense of dread slithered up my spine. The quiet was suffocating, pressing in on me from all sides. The church, which had been his sanctuary, now felt like a tomb—the kind of place where people were left to disappear.

I knocked again, louder this time. My eyes scanned the windows, but everything was still. My thoughts were a mess, spiraling, and I could feel the panic creeping in. Where was Elias? Why wasn’t he answering?

Then, just as I was about to knock a third time, I heard something. A sound that cut through the night air like a blade. A scream.

A scream that shattered the silence.

Elias.

It was unmistakable. His voice. Full of pain. Full of agony.

My blood ran cold. My knees buckled for a split second as the sound pierced through me like it was twisting something inside me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, just a wave of fear and adrenaline rushing through me, drowning out everything else.

I couldn’t just stand there. Not after hearing that. Not after hearing him scream.

I slammed my shoulder against the door, not caring if it hurt. I needed to get inside. I needed to get to him.

The door creaked open slightly, a crack wide enough to see through even slightly. More of those nails gleamed in the moonlight. I couldn’t see much, but the one glimpse I did have brought chills to my spine and tears in my eyes—blood.

I smashed over and over, battering my bruised arms until the nails slowly cracked through the wood enough for me to squeeze through. My heart was hammering in my chest as I pushed through the crack in the door and stepped into the cold, dark interior of the church.

The smell of blood was strong. It was overwhelming. I could see small pools littering the dark ground. There was barely any light, just the soft moonlight that shone through the stained glass windows.

The air inside was thick and heavy with the scents of blood, incense, and dust. Everything felt wrong. Something was off. Who’s blood is this? Did he go hunting? Why would he bring the game back to the church? The stillness of the place only made my panic grow.

I stood still for a moment, straining to listen. My hands were shaking as I reached for my phone, but I couldn’t dial. The weight of my thoughts crushed me, and I couldn’t think straight. I had to move. I had to find Elias.

Then, I heard it again. Another scream. Louder this time, sinking into the wooden walls.

I followed the sound, my breath coming in short bursts as I ran through the empty halls of the church. The floor beneath my boots creaked with each step, and the darkness seemed to close in around me, suffocating.

“Elias!” I called out, my voice trembling, desperate. “Elias, where are you?”

I didn’t wait for a response. I couldn’t. I pushed on, moving toward the sound, each step feeling like an eternity. I turned the corner into the sanctuary, and my eyes immediately locked on the altar.

There, in the dim light, I saw him.

And my heart shriveled into pieces, falling at my feet.

Elias was strung up on the cross at the center of the room, his face contorted in pain, blood staining the wood beneath him. His hands were nailed on the crucifix, drawn above his head, his feet enduring the same treatment at the bottom. Blood spilled down the wood and onto the ground.

His head hung down, his reddish blonde hair slicked with even more of his blood. The most gruesome part of the scene was the man I loved, with every part of me, was bare, naked for all the world to see.

His beautiful penis was the last nail to be used. The skin was pulled down enough to embed a nail in the tip. It bled the most. Each faint beat of his heart had more of that blood pulsing down his legs.

I froze for a moment, my heart stopping in my chest as I felt as if it would stop.

“Elias!” I shouted again, running toward him with everything I had in me.

But Jack’s voice—cold and commanding—cut through the air.

“Don’t come any closer, Ronan,” he snarled. “He’s God’s boy now. Just like he wanted.”

The words were like a punch to my gut. My chest tightened, my vision blurring with rage, fear, and helplessness.

Elias’s head lifted at the sound of my voice. He was extremely weak, and his face was stained in his tears. His eyes shot toward me, his face pale, and for a split second, there was a flicker of recognition that it was me through the pain, but there was the love in his gaze that never left. It was gone just as quickly, replaced with that same hollow fear that twisted inside me. He was in pain.

Too much pain .

I didn’t know how to help him. I just knew I had to do it.

I took a step forward, hands outstretched, but Jack moved faster, stepping between us and blocking my path. He had something in his hand, and a new fear lit inside me. A scent of this place I couldn’t understand from before, couldn’t place over the other, was as clear as the evil in his eyes. It was gasoline, and Jack was holding a lighter.

“Stay back…” Jack warned, his eyes cold as ice. “You don’t want to block his path to God anymore, do you?”

“Fuck you…” I whispered, taking another step. “Let him go, Jack. Please. I am begging you. Stop this.”

But Jack didn’t move. He just stood there, flipping the lighter, turning the flame off and on, his grin twisted and predatory. Elias’s breathing grew more ragged, more desperate, weaker. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear the words coming out of my mouth.

“You’ve done enough to me,” I said, voice shaking, pleading. “If it’s freedom you want. You have it. I don’t care anymore. Please. Just stop. Just let me help him.”

Jack laughed. It was a hollow, menacing sound that echoed through the church’s stone walls.

“How cute you came to be his prince charming. Too bad for you that this castle is about to blow up,” he spat. “You’ve always been so na?ve, Ronan. I thought you chose the better path. But clearly, you just wanna burn with him.”

I had to do something. I couldn’t let him do this. Not to Elias. Not to the man I loved.

I launched myself forward, but before I could take another step, I heard Elias scream again, his body jerking violently as he slid down the cross little by little, only his skin holding him up for this long. That was enough to freeze me in my tracks. It felt like my chest had been ripped open.

I had to find a way out of this to save him. To get him free.

But the crushing weight of Jack’s presence, of his control, seemed to suffocate me. And all I could do was come to the reality that I was going to lose Elias— again .

And I didn’t know how I’d survive it.

“Just leave. Please.” I tried again, running at Jack to smash through him to get to Elias. Jack laughed and threw me backward into the ground.

“Okay, boy. You win. I ain’t interested in burnin’ for your sins. I hope you remember this. Remember that you don’t cross me, or there ain’t a prayer that will save you.”

The lighter in his hand flickered to life one final time, and Jack threw it to the back of the room, right into a pool of the liquidity gasoline.