Page 19 of The Cult

“Because I said so,” Napoleon answered.

The six of us were left watching the battle for supremacy unfold before our eyes.

“Do I need to remind you what Orcus said?” Tobias asked. “Everything I want.”

“Ooooh,” one of the guys said, clearly enjoying the scene in front of us. It didn’t take much to entertain us. Besides, this was better than being on the receiving end of Napoleon’s tantrum.

“Should we call him?” Tobias pointed to the radio attached to Napoleon’s bulletproof vest. “I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms, flexing his muscles through his tight T-shirt.

Checkmate. Napoleon fumed, and I couldn’t explain the happiness I felt from witnessing him fold like a deck of cards. Had he finally met his match? It was too soon to tell. Napoleon had been here for as long as I could remember. He was one of the young men trained like us and ended up as part of Orcus’s security detail. His big mouth had served him well, climbing from the bottom of the guard ranking, which was manning the gates, to where he was now. But I had to hand it to Tobias, he knew how to play the game. They couldn’t argue after that move. Orcus’s words were the law around here. Break it and you’d pay the consequence.

After a brief hesitation, the guards nodded reluctantly and left the barracks, grumbling on their way out. “Who the hell does he think he is?” one of them asked. “Bossing us around like that.”

“What was that?” Tobias asked. “You got something to say? Say it to my fucking face.”

Cowards that they were, they scurried away with tails between their legs—except for Napoleon, who shot Tobias a death glare.

“Is there a place we can talk alone?” Tobias asked once the guards were out of earshot.

I glanced around the bunkroom to gauge everyone’s reaction to his request. Surely they’d have questions. This was unprecedented. Either they didn’t care or were too tired to mind, because they were all huddled around Two, who’d managed to smuggle a comic book with him. “Why?” I asked.

Tobias stepped forward, closing the gap between us. “You know why.” His warm breath fanned my face.

“Nope, I don’t know why. Who are you again?”

Tobias raised an eyebrow, confusion flashing across his features for a split second while he examined my face. Being this close gave me the opportunity to study him. His right eye was light brown, which was a different shade from his left one that had a mix of green. His upper lip bore a small cut that was only visible when this close. I had to stop myself from running my hand along his jawline. He was a handsome man with a perma-frown plastered on his face. No one was that fucking miserable. Not even us, and we had all the reasons to be.

“What are you staring at?” he asked.

I didn’t get embarrassed, thankfully, because I was one hundred percent ogling him. It was a wonder I didn’t drool. “Trying to figure out who you are,” I answered, shrugging.

“You’re Oliver’s kid.”

There were two things I despised more than anything: being called a kid and being treated like one. I turned my back on him and walked away.

“Kid?” Tobias called.

Call me that one more time and we’ll see what happens, I thought to myself. He was getting on my last nerve. “What?” I asked, whirling to face him.

He combed his hair with his fingers, a move that lifted his tight navy-blue T-shirt and exposed a peek of his abs, adorned with a happy trail that led to candy land.

I suddenly craved a lollipop. A sigh escaped my lips as he looked up at the ceiling.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” I fought the impulse to reach over and brush a chunk of his hair that had evaded his finger-combing effort.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your shit, kid.” Tobias dashed to the bathroom like he owned the fucking joint. After looking around, he disappeared behind the wall, then stuck his head back out. “In here,” he ordered. His arrogance should have pissed me off, but I admired him. He’d managed to deal with the guards in the way we wished we could. “In. Here,” he repeated, snapping his fingers.

Oh hell no! I hated fucking orders.

“Abel,” Tobias called.

That got the guys’ attention. Guards never called us by our names, only our numbers. “You know him?” Seven asked. The guys had stopped flipping through their comic book and all eyes were on Tobias and me.

I pressed my finger onto my lips to keep them quiet. “Tell you later,” I answered.

This could escalate fast if I wasn’t careful. I was about to head over to Tobias when he marched out of the bathroom, long and determined strides toward me.

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