Page 9 of The Cult

“No you won’t,” she said before disconnecting the call.

She was right.

“Was that Zero?” Archer asked when I reached them.

I nodded while keeping my attention on my phone, refreshing until an email from Zero hit my inbox. I opened it. Hello, fucker! Orcus’s mug shot greeted me, accompanied by a list of shit about the creep along with his real name: Samuel Lynch. “Orcus my ass.” Somehow, he looked exactly like I imagined he’d be. He had a double chin, graying hair, and wrinkled pale skin. His light brown eyes were dull. The cult’s satellite coordinates, screenshots from surveillance feeds, and receipts from a coffee shop that he visited every Monday morning at six o’clock were also included.

“And?” Heath asked.

I showed them my phone instead of answering. They quickly skimmed Zero’s message. “Lead the way and we’ll be right behind you.” Archer pulled his helmet back on and handed the other to Heath before hopping onto his bike.

Hearing from Zero and learning about Orcus’s whereabouts provided me with the extra push I needed. I wanted to deal with that motherfucker so we could get a move on with The Firm.

***

“Who’s Oliver?” Archer asked, sipping his black coffee. I knew he had questions, and I was surprised it had taken him this long to ask.

I was unsure how much I wanted to share. This was all new to me. I never shared. Keeping everyone at arm’s length was safer, so it would be easier to detach when all this was over. Because, sooner or later, this would be over. They would realize that I had nothing to offer and they’d leave, like everyone else in my life had. Being associated with me wasn’t worth the hassle. Archer would go his way and I would go mine. And that was if we came out of this war with The Firm alive. That was a big if.

Heath must’ve sensed my apprehension. He stood. “I need to get a refill,” he lied, because his cup was still full.

“No, stay,” I insisted, raising my hand. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing between Archer and me.

I appreciated his willingness to give us space, but I needed to trust them the way they trusted me. “Positive.”

“Is he family?” Archer tapped Heath’s thigh when he sat down. Jealousy for what they had coursed through me once again. He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head and directed his full attention to me.

I mimicked his move by pushing my sunglasses up before I spoke. “He was.” Speaking about him in the past tense didn’t sit well with me. “He is,” I corrected, even though I had no idea if he was dead or alive. “He was my only family for the longest time, until I met Aurora.” I ran my left thumb across my ring finger, where I could still feel the weight of a phantom band. “He’s my best friend.”

“Was Aurora your—”

“Wife,” I interrupted, nodding, completing Archer’s question. “But she’s gone.”

Two sets of eyes were on me, waiting for me to continue.

“She was murdered two months after our wedding.” I tried to control my face and hide the pain. I needed to remain calm and composed. I tapped my sunglasses back down to act as my shield, closing my eyes as an image of her lifeless body, crumpled in a pool of blood gushing from her lacerated neck, invaded my mind. Her unseeing eyes were wide open. The terror she must’ve felt before taking her final breath still haunted me. “The cops didn’t find the person responsible for her death, and I’ve spent years searching for a lead, only to end up empty-handed.”

“Oh shit.” Archer’s eyes softened. “Sorry, man.”

“It was a long time ago.” I didn’t want their pity.

After darting a glance around the diner, Heath leaned over the table and whispered, “Do you think The Firm had anything to do with it?”

His question didn’t shock me. I’d considered that possibility, but I had no proof. “It has crossed my mind plenty of times. But I haven’t been able to find a connection to tie them to her death.”

My phone, sitting on the glass table, vibrated with a text from Zero; a welcome interruption. Opening up was a lot harder than I realized, and I’d had enough for today. I unlocked the screen, lifting the device so Archer and Heath could see. I scrolled through images of a tall concrete wall with barbed wire, and shots of the compound from the air with people carrying on with their business. I wondered what had become of Oliver’s family. I thought about his lovely wife and kids. Whatever happened to the sweet young kid, Abel, and his adorable feisty sister, Maddy? It was wrong to call him a kid, considering he’d be nineteen or twenty by now.

Archer stabbed a finger at my screen just below the shadow of a tiny fan. “That looks like a helicopter. Can you fly one?”

“Not really,” I answered with a frown.

“So what’s your plan?” Archer asked.

“I keep going,” I answered.

“No, we keep going,” Archer insisted, lifting some emotional weight off my shoulders.

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