Page 85 of The Cult

Tobias pinned Napoleon’s arms to his side with his knees. Napoleon struggled to break free, but Tobias was too heavy for him.

I couldn’t miss the fury contorting Tobias’s handsome face. His strong hands wrapped around Napoleon’s neck. Like a python, his grip tightened, squeezing the life out of my abuser.

Napoleon’s face turned pale and his movements ceased, but Tobias appeared to be far from being done.

“Did he fucking touch you?” Tobias asked, studying my half-naked body. He released his hold on Napoleon’s neck and started beating the shit out of his face. Blood splattered across Tobias’s hands, shirt, and face. He stopped and wiped his forehead with the backs of his hands, spreading more of Napoleon’s blood on him.

“No,” I answered. I glanced down and breathed a sigh of relief when I found that my pants were still on. I hurried to reach Tobias and stopped his fist mid-swing. “I’m okay,” I said, staring at Napoleon’s unmoving form. The fury that had taken over rendered him unrecognizable. “Tobias, I’m okay.” I held his face and put our foreheads together. I placed my palm on his chest; the drumming of his heart was as fast and furious as mine. “I’m safe.”

Tobias nodded and scooted away. He stood and reached for my hand. “We need to get rid of this trash,” he snarled, spitting on Napoleon’s body.

I looked down. Napoleon’s eyes were frozen wide. “Is he …?” I turned to Tobias, who replied with a curt nod.

I searched his face for any signs of remorse for killing another man, but aside from his anger, he didn’t appear to be bothered; as if this wasn’t the first time he’d taken a life. “Let’s take him up the ridge.” He nodded toward the hill behind us. “We can discard his body there, or at least keep him there until we have a better plan.”

“What if they look for him?” I asked.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Tobias said. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” I said. I lifted Napoleon by his legs while Tobias grabbed his arms.

Under the cover of darkness, Tobias and I ventured deeper into the woods, hauling Napoleon’s lifeless body. His limp hands dragged the leaves along the ground as we climbed up the ridge where we’d sat that one rainy evening. “We’ll cover our tracks on the way back,” Tobias said when he noticed the crimson trail we were leaving behind.

I stared at Napoleon’s battered face. It’d been a close call. I shuddered to think what would’ve happened if Tobias hadn’t come back in time. My skin crawled at the reminder of how he’d tried to assault me like I was a toy he could play with. “Fuck you!” I dropped his legs and kicked him in his crotch repeatedly.

Tobias let go of Napoleon and rushed toward me. He hooked his arm around my chest, pulling me away. “He can’t hurt you anymore,” Tobias whispered, nuzzling the side of my face tenderly. “No one will ever lay their hands on you again.”

I turned my body toward Tobias, pouring out my gratitude with a hug. I was once again surprised when he let me.

Thirty-Five: Tobias

One second I was grinning, thinking about how Abel looked as I left him in the woods to find my cell phone. The next had me sprinting to rip that scumbag’s hands off my Abel.

I wished I could kill that fucker a hundred times, but I was in such a rage seeing him with Abel—the second time I’d felt that kind of wrath in my entire fucking life. It was a shame I killed him so swiftly, I would’ve had a great time making him suffer, making him pay for all the terror he’d inflicted on the guys, on Abel. I shrugged all thoughts of him out of my head because he didn’t deserve to occupy space. My protectiveness and possessiveness, if I was being honest, had kicked up a notch. And if it was up to me, Abel would never leave my side again.

Abel’s arm brushed against mine. The warmth of his skin reminded me that he was safe. It was a relief, like a cool breeze on a scorching day. Abel is fine. For now. I splayed my fingers, itching to intertwine them with his—a gesture so foreign I didn’t know how to even begin. Catching sight of him in my periphery, he looked down at our hands then his eyes shot back up to my face. His knuckle delicately grazed mine and a burst of electricity surged through my body, sending my skin ablaze.

Magnetic forces drew us closer. My body hummed with anticipation, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out and grasp his hand. But, unlike the many other times I had battled with my senses where Abel was concerned, I surrendered and linked our fingers together.

Time stood still. My chest tightened. I held my breath, unwilling to disturb the peace I felt holding Abel because I knew this was short-lived. I was involved, after all. Nothing beautiful and promising ever came my way for long. You’re a worthless piece of shit, the nagging voice in my head screamed, but it was silenced when Abel squeezed my hand tighter.

He guided me away from where his comrades were. I tugged his hand, halting his progress. “Where’re we going?”

“I need to clean you up.” He nodded to my face before lifting my arm that was blotched with Napoleon’s blood.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just—”

“Will you let me take care of you?” he said. “It won’t take long.”

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest when he pulled me away.

“Allowing someone to look after you once in a while is not a sign of weakness,” he said, as though he could read my mind.

He was wrong. Letting people in was a sign of weakness and I wouldn’t let him in close enough to find the chinks in my armor. “Fine.” I gave in for now, following him to wherever he was leading us.

The soft murmur of running water signaled a small brook up ahead, nestled within the compound. Abel turned to me, a glint of determination in his eyes. “Come on,” he said. He dropped my hand and rushed to the brook, his T-shirt in hand.

I hesitated for a moment, glancing around the premises and trying to ignore that my hand felt empty all of a sudden. We were wasting time by being here. He waved me over, his expression pleading. With a resigned sigh, I joined him and sat down on the grassy bank, keeping a wary eye out for any guards. This unfamiliar territory put me on edge.

---