Page 64 of The Cult

Hell no. Everything I did was for my family. All the sacrifices I made and the pain I endured were so we could one day get the hell out of this place. “Fuck you!” I stood and pushed his bare chest, surprised that he let me. Just when I thought I finally had Tobias figured out, truth slapped me in the face. Despite his tough persona, I had convinced myself that there was goodness buried deep within him. But I soon realized that I had misread and misjudged him entirely. How could I be so wrong? “They might mean nothing to you, but they’re my friends. My other family,” I seethed. “That’s what we fucking do here. We watch each other’s backs.” I tapped his chest where his heart was. My dad’s frantic calls to Tobias years ago, desperately asking for his help, flooded my brain. “Unlike you, who abandoned Dad. What a best friend you are!”

I knew that was unfair, especially after learning about his wife, but I wouldn’t let anyone, not even Tobias, talk about the guys like they were insignificant. I wouldn’t treat them the way this cult had treated us—worthless.

Something dark came over Tobias. Someone I didn’t recognize took over his features. He grabbed me by the neck, so I fought back using the lessons he’d taught me against him, but the fucker was too strong and sneaky. I stepped on a loose rock, which caused me to fall on my back, momentarily knocking the wind out of me. “What the fuck did you say?” He was over me before I could recover, his big hand on my neck like a vise.

“You heard me,” I said. “He was waiting for you, but you never came.”

“You don’t know shit!” Tobias’s words sprayed my face with spit.

I wiggled my arms, but they were pinned by his knees. My breathing became labored, and I struggled to speak. “I won’t leave my friends here the way you left my dad.” It hurt to breathe; my vision started to blur. The world around me began to fade.

Tobias’s hand loosened. I gasped for air; my surroundings materialized into my periphery.

Horror flickered across his face, replacing the fury that had consumed him, and was swiftly followed by an expression of guilt and hurt.

Tobias pried his legs off my body and sat down, twigs and leaves crunching with his weight. He looked down at his hands before peering at the canopy of trees below, which was hiding the cult. He balled his fists, ready to strike at any moment.

I coughed and touched my neck. My heart ached at the sight of Tobias, but my loyalty was with the guys, and I needed to let them know. “I gotta warn them.” My voice was hoarse.

“And then what, huh?” he asked with a humorless laugh. “What’s your plan, kid? Since you know everything.”

“You have no idea what we can do. We might be young, but we can take care of ourselves.”

“Then fucking go! I don’t care.” Tobias stood and walked closer to the edge of the boulder. “Y’all can die here. I’m out.”

His brutal words stung. I thought he cared—but what did I know?

Twenty-Seven: Tobias

Istood frozen, my heart heavy with regret as I looked at Abel. I’d promised to protect him, to keep him safe from harm, yet there I was, the cause of his agony. Anger bubbled within me, directed not at Abel but myself. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “I said, fucking go!” I barked.

“I hate you,” Abel fumed, his voice shaking.

My stomach dropped. I fought not to meet his eye. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt any longer. How could three words hit me harder than a bullet to my chest? Abel hates me. The distance between him and I was a blessing so he wouldn’t see how his words affected me. I thought he’d be thankful for knowing the truth about Orcus and his plan, but I was fucking wrong.

“What are you waiting for, kid? Leave!” I had to let him go so he wouldn’t witness me crumble if I couldn’t bring myself to drown his words with the defense I’d mastered to keep everyone believing I didn’t give a shit.

“You’re an asshole. I can’t believe Dad ever trusted you!” he shouted. “I can’t believe I trusted you.” Abel jogged toward the trees and disappeared into the shadows.

I didn’t know I was still capable of feeling any emotions, but Abel’s accusation had ripped open old wounds I’d buried years ago. Everything he said about me and his father was true. I did turn my back on Oliver when he needed me the most, when he tried to get his family out of the cult. I was ashamed to admit that my recollection of those days were hazy, fragments of my past I chose to forget. I was in a dark place and in no shape to help anyone when Oliver needed me. I could barely help myself back then. I’d spent most of those days passed out drunk, and when I was sober, I obsessed over finding Aurora’s murderers. I was a mad man on a mission, and my relationship with Oliver—my best friend and the only family I had left—was collateral damage. By the time I got my shit together, Oliver had stopped calling and I never reached out. He probably hated me. I couldn’t blame him.

I tucked my head between my knees and pulled my hair, silently screaming my frustration. How could a simple mission of taking Abel and his family out of The Creed turn into a complicated mess? I never should’ve let my sorry ass get entangled with their lives. I should’ve accepted Archer and Heath’s offer and dragged the Marshalls out of here on day one. But I was The Savior and never needed anyone to rescue me. I doubted Abel would’ve let us drag them out of here without a fight—he was determined and stubborn.

“Y’all can die here. I’m out.” That was a lie. If I didn’t care about Abel’s fate, then why was my heart dreading the idea of him stepping into that ring, battling for his life? I needed him to think of me as ruthless so he could forget about me when all this was done.

Maybe I was pushing him away for my own sake too. I enjoyed his presence too much for my comfort. As much as I hated to admit, I looked forward to seeing him every day at practice and at night when we were alone. I craved his touch, and his laughter that remained innocent despite the chaos around him. Being with Abel made me forget how miserable my life was.

The pain inside me doubled when I realized that I hadn’t thought about Aurora the way I used to since I’d infiltrated The Creed. I’d been trying to deny my attraction to Abel, but I was kidding myself if I said I didn’t want him. He consumed me, and I needed it to end before memories of my late wife drifted away to the abyss of no return. This was my out. They could fend for themselves, and I could go back to my not-so-merry life.

Get them outta there, Tobias! Oliver’s words replayed in my head.

I owed him this. I wouldn’t let him down again.

I wouldn’t let Abel down.

***

My dark living room reeked of vodka and regret. I didn’t know what day or what time it was; my only concern was how much more alcohol I could drink before I blacked out and forgot everything. I slouched in a cushioned armchair, holding a bottle of Grey Goose in one hand while the other rested on the armrest pointing a gun at the door, hoping the fuckers who killed my only family would return so I could end them one by one. I wouldn’t show mercy; they would suffer. I chugged heartily, each gulp pushing me closer to the brink of unconsciousness. It’d been weeks since Aurora’s death and I was nowhere near finding the culprits. I had plenty of enemies; it came with the territory of being an assassin. But I’d been careful about concealing my identity, burning traces of my life after each assignment.

---