Page 52 of The Cult

I tried to shut the door, but the man pushed it open before I had a chance to close it. He grabbed my elbow and dragged me outside.

“You can’t take me. My mom is sick and my sister is by herself,” I pleaded. I reached for the doorframe, gripping it with all my strength. I winced when my palm hit a protruding nail, but I didn’t care. Blood dripped down my fingers to the floor. “She can’t be by herself. Mom is ill.” This wasn’t happening. I was too young. “Please let me go.”

Maddy must’ve heard the commotion because she ran after us. “Why are you hurting him? Let him go!” she screamed, clinging to my body, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t take my brother!”

My heart shattered at the sight of her pain. What has become of our family?

“I’m gonna be fine. Just a small cut.” I was trembling inside, but I needed to be strong for her. “It’s okay, Maddy. I’ll be back,” I promised, balling my hand into a fist to stop it from bleeding.

“No.” Her hold on me tightened, as if she was sinking and I was her buoy.

“It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be all right.” My promises were empty, but I’d do anything to protect my sister.

***

I sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for Tobias to arrive, flooded by memories of that summer. That day never failed to bring tears to my eyes. It was Orcus’s plan to take me away that afternoon. He said that I was big for my age and could handle being in the camp. Mom had one of her good days a couple of days later and begged for my release. I didn’t think they would listen to her, but, after she met with Orcus personally, I was allowed to come home. It was one of the last good memories I had with my mom. Everything went downhill from there.

I stared at the scar on my palm. I wondered what our lives would’ve been like if my parents had never met Orcus. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were happy. We’d go to the beach and spend a whole day chasing waves. My parents loved each other; I believed it with every fiber of my being. The only time I witnessed them fighting was because of money. “This could be our way out,” Mom had told Dad one time. And two days later, we packed our lives into our old station wagon and drove from California to Wyoming.

Soft footsteps approached, so I wiped the tears off my face.

“Why are you crying?” Tobias asked. His long legs reached me in milliseconds. He held my face, fury on his expression. “Did someone hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. This was fucking embarrassing.

“What’s going on, then?” Tobias’s jaw clenched; his brows were drawn together.

“I said I’m fine,” I insisted. “I just remembered something.”

He forced me to face him. “Look at me. Tell me what’s going on.”

I sighed. “I fucking hate it here. It’s suffocating.” My hand found its way to my neck, fingers clenching slightly as I struggled to convey the weight of my words. “I wish we didn’t come here, Tobias. Our lives are shit because of this place.” The rage I felt for Orcus and this cult replaced my sadness and hopelessness. “I wanna hate my parents for bringing us here. I wish I could scream at them, but I can’t do that because Dad is gone and I don’t know if he’s alive.” My voice choked up. “And Mom is sick and staying here is making her condition worse.” More tears formed, and I let them fall down my face, not caring whether Tobias thought of me as weak.

Tobias’s features softened, taking me by surprise. He looked like the man I met on his wedding day. Kind. Compassionate. His presence made me release all the pent-up emotions I’d buried deep inside.

“Sometimes I can’t breathe from all the pressure to be strong all the time. I had to put on a happy face so Maddy could have an ounce of stability in her life. I had to smile when all I wanted to do was cry and feel sorry for myself.”

Tobias pulled me into his arms, his tight embrace grounding me.

“I want a normal life so I can matter,” I whispered against his shirt.

“Then let’s get the fuck outta here.”

As much as I would love to run away with him, I had obligations.

Twenty-Three: Tobias

An unfamiliar knot formed in my chest. I didn’t get nervous. Ever. Ice ran through my veins, but Abel was molten steel, melting away my defenses, layer by layer. The sight of him in distress woke something inside me I didn’t know existed. My protectiveness kicked in, wanting to break the skull of whoever was responsible for his tears. I wanted to shield him from anything that could hurt him, the way no one ever had for me. He tried to brush it off, but I could see pain, rage, and helplessness brewing in his eyes. I knew those feelings well. He hated this place as much as his father had. That was for damn sure. What wasn’t clear was his reluctance to get the fuck out.

“So?” I asked when he didn’t respond to my offer to run away. “Let’s get your mom and sister and I can get us out of here in a couple of hours.” One call to Archer and the gang and we could forget this place ever existed.

“I can’t,” he said.

I expected that answer. “Why? What are you not telling me?”

Abel studied my face but remained silent.

I cupped his cheek and gazed into his ocean blue eyes. Jolts of intensity sobered me, realizing what I’d done. I yanked my hand back and looked away. Cradling him in my arms earlier was a means to calm him when he broke down. Now that he appeared somewhat together, holding him felt different—I was exposed. Every time we touched, some armor fell away, leaving me unshielded. What the hell is happening?

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