Page 92 of The Pact

Ashton seems to know what I’m thinking, because he cups my jaw with a warm hand, forcing me to look into the stormy depths of his gray eyes. “I want you to accept the job, Ausra. I don’t know how the others feel but I’ll still be here at the end of the summer. Running into the water with you on my shoulder, taking you to parties and choosing sexy dresses for you.”

I know that he means it and my decision is made. But before I officially accept that job, I need to talk to each of them about the fact that they met me before that night at the Stowaway.

And you know how life is, right? Especially when it comes to being careful of what you ask the universe.

I barely have the time to wish that everything was out in the open, that Mr. Reynolds’ voice interrupts my thoughts, coming from behind me. “Ausra, Ash. Sorry to interrupt your dancing but like I said, I wanted to introduce Ausra to one of the members of the panel that will officially hire you.”

Before I even turn in Ashton’s arms a very familiar voice makes my blood curdle in my veins.

“I’m Harold Winthrop. I didn’t quite catch your name?”

***

Ausra

––––––––

MY FIGHT OR FLIGHT instinct immediately kicks into high gear and there’s no doubt that it’s dead set on flight.

What I would like to do when I hear my father’s voice is to turn around and run. Run as far as my feet will carry me.

But I’m trapped between him and Mr. Reynolds on one side and Ashton on the other, so I have no choice but to turn around and meet a blue gaze that’s very similar to my own.

He offers me his hand to shake and I hesitate, staring at my father’s perfectly manicured fingers. The smile on his face is the same one I’ve seen countless times. The public smile that belongs to the popular preacher, the man that attracts so many followers when he speaks in his church, on TV and on social media. The smile that promises you all sorts of good things if you follow him on the road to enlightenment.

Dad has perfected his public persona over the years and I have to give it to him, he’s got a much better poker face than I do. I’m the only one who can see the flicker of fury in his blue eyes and while I’d like to run as far as possible from him, I know I can’t make a scene.

So I force myself to shake his hand finding it cold and dry, like his heart.

“Harold, this is Ausra Compton. The young lady I was telling you about. I have faith that she’ll fit in perfectly not only with the windsurfing team but within the whole athletic department at Bridgeport.”

He holds my hand in his just a little longer than would be appropriate. “Ausra. What an interesting name. Not very common.”

I take another step back when he lets go of me, thanking all the gods for Ashton’s solid chest behind me, or I think my knees would refuse to support me right now.

As if on autopilot, I offer him the same platitude I use whenever any new acquaintance comments on my unusual name. “My mom’s ancestors came to the US from Lithuania. In their language Ausra means ‘dawn.’”

If I expected Dad to call my bluff or react in any way to the fact that I’ve changed my last name to Mom’s maiden name, I’m surprised by his complete lack of reaction.

He keeps the conversation superficial and polite, like one would do at a party with someone they’ve just met.

The only moment of tension is when he asks me how I met Ashton and the rest of the team. “Did you guys go to school together?”

The slight quirk of his lips tells me that he’s enjoying putting me on the spot but I don’t fall for it. “We just met a few weeks ago. Ashton helped me get out of ... an uncomfortable situation.”

Thankfully he doesn’t insist on asking about the exact circumstances of how I met the guys. I know I’ll have to come clean sooner rather than later but I’d like for it not to happen in a crowded ballroom and definitely not with him as an audience.

“It’s been nice to meet you, Miss Compton. I’ll take care of arranging an interview with the committee in the next couple of weeks. But be reassured that it’s just a formality. We’ll be happy to have you since you come so highly recommended.”

He walks away followed by Mr. Reynolds and I release a shuddering breath.

This is bad.

Enlightenment isn’t easy and the road to purity will be paved with hurdles and you won’t lack enemies. People who are jealous of your achievements, unaccepting of the community behind you. People wanting to bring you down, to strip you of the formidable support you find in each of the brothers and sisters that are walking your same path. Don’t fear your enemies. Fight them. Destroy them. Who are your enemies, you might ask? Anyone who isn’t on this journey, anyone who refuses the truth and the chance at a higher self is your enemy. Destroy them without mercy. It’s you or them.

I’m aware that the moment I walked out of his house, I became an enemy. He didn’t want me to go to college and I’m under no illusion that he’ll let me have what I want. The question isn’t if he’ll do something to punish me but when and how.

“Ausra, are you all right?” Ashton’s gaze is fixed onto mine. “You look so pale. Is it too warm in here?”