Page 93 of The Cult

Maddy shook her head. “I dunno.”

“Please, allow me?” I reached for the box and Maddy slid it over. Furtively, I lifted the lid, and my heart sank. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “Fuck!” I muttered.

I was staring at a bloody heart and a severed hand with a gold wedding band and watch. It could surely only belong to one man.

I shut the lid and placed my hand on top, stopping the others from looking inside.

“What is it?” Abel asked.

I considered the ways I could tell them about the contents but came up with none.

“Tobias …” Abel gripped my wrist, trying to pull it away from the box, but I didn’t budge. “Let go.”

I studied his face then turned to Erika and Maddy. What happened to you, Oliver? Whatever he experienced was far worse than I’d feared. Oh, I hoped he didn’t suffer. Slowly, I let go, bracing myself for their reaction.

Abel lifted the box and opened the lid. “Oh god,” he said, covering his mouth with his hand. “Oh my fucking god.” He dropped the box on the floor, the contents spilling out with a sickening thud. He ran to the sink and spewed his guts up.

“No!” Maddy’s scream pierced the air. She dashed to Erika, throwing herself on her mother. “Mommy,” she bawled, tears streaming down her face. “Dad!”

But Erika had shut down. She had retreated into herself once more; her distant eyes were fixed upon Oliver’s lifeless parts.

“Dad!” Abel wailed, falling to his knees. His cry reverberated off the walls, his pain and anguish piercing my shattering heart.

I picked up Oliver’s heart and hand from the floor and placed them back in the box. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the blue rag draped over the oven’s door. No one should see traces of their loved one scattered on a dirty linoleum floor. Oliver deserved better.

Abel turned around and leaned on the sink, sliding down until he was sitting. His tear-soaked eyes were on me. Witnessing Abel fall apart and his family crumble stirred a fury within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was gonna fucking kill them—and I knew where to start.

Thirty-Eight: Abel

My worst fear had come true. The hand belonged to my dad. I knew it, no matter how desperately I wished to believe that it wasn’t. The familiar gold ring on his finger that matched Mom’s, the watch ticking away on his wrist—each detail engraved into my memory like a cruel reminder. I felt numb, the world around me was a blur. Voices and cries pushed to the background, and I was stuck in a dark tunnel alone, drowning in my sorrow.

Tobias moved around us swiftly, but my focus remained fixed on my father. He was gone. I would never see him again. Orcus had killed him. I believed it without any shadow of doubt. How much did he suffer? Another wave of nausea clenched my stomach. I staggered up and aimed for the sink, desperate for some relief. My vision doubled and my body swayed, so I gripped onto the tiled counter for support. My hands slipped, threatening to send me falling backward, but strong hands steadied me just in time.

Tobias guided me down to the floor and sat next to me. I leaned against him.

In this time of weakness, I pondered the number of ways to die. How long would it take to drown? A minute? Would I die faster if I didn’t hold my breath? If I slit my throat, how long would it take for my body to empty every ounce of blood running through my veins? A gun to my head wouldn’t be kind for those who’d find my lifeless body, but why should I care? I’d be gone. The Creed wouldn’t care, they’d just replace me with the next guy. I was just a number. That was a fact.

I knew who would care: Maddy. She’d miss her brother. Maybe Mom would too during the few moments when she was alert, but maybe my death would drive her over the edge of no return. The rest of the guys would miss me for a while, until the new Nine was announced. Would Tobias miss me?

I could never end my life. The promise of that route to freedom from this hell didn’t appeal to me. I didn’t want to take the easy way out. I fantasized about death, but suicide would be unfair to those who believed in me.

I believed in me.

I couldn’t sit upright anymore; my body crumpled to the floor. Tobias guided my head onto his lap. The weight of our loss crashed down on me like a tidal wave. Memories flooded my brain when I closed my eyes. Dad’s laughter, his wisdom, his presence— all of which was gone, leaving a gaping hole that threatened to swallow me whole. I cried out, anguish ripping me apart.

In the midst of my despair, something else rose inside me—anger. Anger at the unfairness of life, the cruel twist of fate that had robbed me and Maddy of our childhood and of a normal life. Anger at myself for not being able to save my dad, for not being able to say goodbye to him. If only we had planned our escape sooner, none of this would have happened.

And above all, I was angry at the very existence of Orcus and The Creed.

***

Dad and I strolled along the familiar path to school, the cool morning breeze tousling our hair. I clung tightly to his hand, my small fingers intertwining with his much larger ones.

“Do you like your new friends?” he asked. “First grade is a lot of fun, I remember.”

“Yes, Dad,” I answered. It was my third week at my new school; we’d had to move from our big house to an apartment away from the city. My mom was upset that I had to switch in the middle of the year, but Dad had said that we needed to downsize. Whatever that meant. The class was all the same for me. In fact, I liked it better here because our place was a lot closer to the beach. The other kids here were nicer too, and I got free lunch at the cafeteria now.

I glanced up at my dad. His face blocked the morning sun behind him, making him glow. He looked like an angel with a halo. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. He was always happy, and he took good care of us, especially when mom spent most of her days alone in their room because she was sick. He took Maddy and me to the park last weekend for my birthday, and the three of us shared a delicious chocolate cupcake with sprinkles. We spent the whole day playing, and when we got hungry, we went home, since Dad accidentally left his wallet at home. I wished Mom was there, but I understood. She was healing, according to Dad. Besides, there was always next time. We had all the time in the world to celebrate and explore.

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