Page 49 of The Cult

Archer: WTF dude? Answer me

Archer: Answer me or I’ll go there myself

I quickly typed a response, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Me: I’m fine. A lot more complicated than I’d anticipated.

After pressing send, I checked the battery and groaned. It had eighteen percent left. I needed to find a way to get this shit charged or I was screwed. I couldn’t afford to lose my one connection outside the cult.

Archer: Thank fuck ur alive. Reinforcement?

Me: No, I got it. Gotta go. Text you later.

Archer: K

I turned my phone off and placed it under the mattress for tomorrow. I planned to return to the barn to take pictures of those metal bins for Archer and Zero. They had piqued my curiosity; odd and out of place sitting next to old farming tools. Zero would know.

I glanced at the clock and wondered what Abel was doing. He was my last thought before I succumbed to sleep.

***

“I didn’t know he wasn’t Ricky,” I said, wincing when my stepfather pulled my long hair. My adoptive parents didn’t bother sending me to the barber, and I couldn’t cut it myself. My scalp ached like it was about to separate from my skull. He yanked me toward the steps leading to the dark basement. Oh no, not again. I was punished last Christmas after I dropped the money from the crack deal he’d sent me to deliver to one of his pushers. “He said he was waiting for the goods,” I explained.

“You’re fucking dumb!” he yelled. His breath reeked of marijuana and gin. “You’re the stupidest twelve-year-old alive. You know that?” He kicked the door open and a foul stench from downstairs assaulted my senses. “You’re costing me more money than you’re worth.”

I was a drug mule. This family didn’t adopt me because they wanted another kid to play with their real son, David—which was what they’d told Father Nathaniel at St. Matthew’s Boys Town.

“I’ll be better next time,” I said, my lame attempt to convince him to let me go. It was a wasted effort, but I could hope.

That was all I had. Without hope, I had nothing. No family. No friends. No money. Nothing. My hope was the only thing they couldn’t take away from me.

“You fucking better do it right next time or you’ll be living on the streets.”

Sometimes I wondered if that might be better than this place. My stomach dropped as the sound of his belt slithering from his pants filled the stuffy room. No! This wasn’t happening again.

A loud whip followed by indescribable pain. I fell to my knees on the dusty floor, screaming just in time for the next blow to crack against my back. The metal buckle tore my skin, and I passed out.

***

I woke up gasping for air. My throat and mouth were dry, and my body was covered with sweat, soaking through the thin sheet. All of my nightmares were bubbling to the surface … I needed to get the fuck out of this place. I didn’t know if the cause was confinement or something else, but whatever it was needed to stop. The fury, hopelessness, and misery I’d felt when I was a kid had come back in droves.

They’re fucking gone. They could never hurt me again. No one could ever hurt me again.

Twenty-Two: Abel

Did last night happen or was it all in my head? I knew it was real—I had the marks on my body to prove it—and it’d been the best experience I’d ever had.

Tobias got off on being dominant, and I was all for it. I’d play the submissive part if that meant having another chance to be with him. I couldn’t wait to see him again. Having him around lessened the bite of being trapped in the cult. When was the last time a morning held such promise?

It was fifteen past seven o’clock in the morning and the guards weren’t around. They didn’t even go through their usual intimidation this morning. What is that about? It couldn’t be from the fire last night, could it? In all the time I’d spent in the North Compound, the guards had never missed their morning routine of terror.

“How are the guys?” Seven nudged my side, bringing me out of my stupor. We were lined up in the gym, waiting for the guards and our trainers to arrive.

The rest of the guys’ attention was on me. I could feel their stares even without looking. “We’re still on,” I whispered, because the guards hated it when we spoke to each other during workouts and training.

“Good. I’m glad,” Seven said. “We didn’t hear you come back last night.” His tone was laced with curiosity.

“Yeah, y’all were out.” Thank goodness for that or I never would have had the best sex of my life. Well, I probably couldn’t call what happened sex when it was one-sided and the other participant didn’t want to be touched.

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