Page 43 of The Cult

“Why?” He’d practically begged me to come out here because he had something important to discuss with his pals and instead he was wasting time looking for me.

Abel shrugged.

“Are you done with them?” I asked, nodding in the direction of the barracks.

“Yeah,” he answered quickly, brushing me off. He was hiding something. It was obvious by the way he avoided my eyes when he answered.

“What was that about? I’ll find out, you know.” It wasn’t a threat but an assurance. “So you can tell me what’s going on or I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see my friends,” Abel said. It was comical that he didn’t think I could see through his bullshit. He had no clue who he was dealing with.

I played along. For now. “Let’s get back before they realize we’re gone.”

“Not quite,” he said, grabbing my elbow. “One last thing before we go.” He didn’t wait for my protest before he ran behind a small trailer.

“This better be quick,” I grumbled.

We hurried through the maze of trailer homes and vegetable gardens, the air thick with the scent of farm animals. I glanced around apprehensively. This part of the cult’s compound was unfamiliar to me; I’d only passed through once when I arrived with Orcus days ago. “Stop,” I said, reaching for Abel’s arm. I scanned the walls and posts, searching for surveillance cameras. “I’m not familiar with this place.” In the outside world, I would’ve figured my way out, but I was with Abel and couldn’t let anything happen to him. I clutched Abel’s arm tighter, pulling him closer. My senses were on high alert.

“I do,” he said. “You’re forgetting, I grew up here.” His face dropped when he looked around the compound. “It robbed us of our childhood.”

My kinship with Abel grew; I understood. “You good?” I asked.

“Yeah. Follow me.” Abel moved with purpose, his steps steady and assured. After five minutes of running and dodging behind houses, Abel suddenly came to a stop behind one house in particular. He made a sound with his mouth, mimicking an owl, calling three times before a faint light flickered inside. The back door creaked open, and a teenage girl wrapped in a quilt blanket came out, scanning the premises for the source of the sound.

I squinted, trying to recall where I had seen her before. She was familiar, but not someone I had seen recently.

Slowly, the memories came flooding back. She was Abel’s younger sister. He didn’t tell me he was leading me to them. I glanced at Abel staring in my direction. Maybe he meant it when he said he trusted me.

He whistled and the girl dropped her blanket to the ground when she saw him. She beelined straight to Abel and, without uttering a word, encapsulated him with her arms. She buried her face in his chest, her hold on him tightening as though they hadn’t seen each other in years. Abel closed his eyes and kissed the top of her blonde hair. It was hard to miss Abel’s love for his sister. A connection I would never experience. They stayed locked in that affectionate embrace for what felt like an eternity. I watched, feeling like an intruder in their private moment.

“I missed you, Abel,” she said. “I heard you were taken away and I was so scared.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, soothing her by rubbing circles on her back. “I’m here. I’m safe.”

He wasn’t, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him or his sister, who appeared to have been worried sick about him, the danger awaiting him weeks from now.

Abel released his hold on her and brought her chin up to meet his face. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of myself—and I have him.” He pointed at me. “How’s Mom?”

“Um … the same,” she answered, giving me a curious glance. “There are days when she’s better and some days she’s worse.”

“What’s wrong with your mother?” I asked warily. The answer could uncover more shit I didn’t need. This mission was complicated enough, and the deeper I got involved, the harder it was to maintain a sense of objectivity.

Abel gestured to his sister. “This is Madison. You remember her?”

I nodded. “I remember.”

“Uncle Tobias?” she asked.

Uncle. I was surprised how the word didn’t make me physically ill like it did when Abel used it. Madison smiled and then did something that caught me completely off guard. She pulled away from her brother and, without hesitation, hugged me. Her petite frame was surprisingly strong, and I was momentarily stunned.

“It’s nice to see you again,” I said, after a few seconds prying her off my body. I wasn’t big on physical touch and affection. Besides, I’d had enough contact tonight to last me a lifetime. “How are you and your mom, kiddo?” The question was my way of breaking the tension, but I was genuinely curious about her answer.

“Oh, you know, same.” She shrugged, her smile fading. Like her brother, Madison looked older than she was. Any remnants of her teenage years were zapped by the worry on her face.

“Tell me,” I said.

Abel nodded when Madison looked behind her. “It’s okay,” he said.

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