Page 41 of The Cult

“Say nothing if anyone approaches us. Close your eyes if I tell you to.”

I don’t say anything to that because all I want to do is ask why. He knows these people better than I do, so I figure I should follow his lead, at least in this.

We head outside into the balmy night air, and I can’t help but notice how dark this place is at night. Micah’s cabin is lit up, but other than that, every other building is pitch black. I have no idea what time it is, and when I search the skies for any clue, all I see are stars.

Halfway across the compound, he tenses up against me, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking what’s wrong. I find out soon enough when I hear someone walk across the dirt, and before he orders me to close my eyes, I squeeze them shut.

“Pretend to be asleep,” he whispers, barely audibly.

“Who’s there?” a low voice gruffly asks.

“Nash.”

The man walks over to us, shuffling his feet across the ground so I imagine he’s leaving a trail of dust behind him. My eyes closed, I sense a light being shined on my face and try hard to remain still and not react.

“What’s up with this?” he asks with a chuckle. “Enjoying a little something on the side, Nash?”

I feel his chest expand against my body when Nash hums what sounds like disapproval at the man’s suggestion he’s been up to something with me. “You know that’s not allowed. Micah ordered me to keep an eye on this one. I found her stumbling around looking for the bathroom.”

That makes the man laugh out loud. Why, I have no idea, but maybe he thinks it’s amusing for someone to not know where to go in the dark. Sounds pretty twisted to me.

“Better get her back. The guards will be doing the midnight search at any minute. You don’t want to get yourself shot over little Miss Pisspants here.”

His snide crack makes me wish I could sit up and slap his face. Nash merely hums again and starts walking once more.

After a few steps, he whispers, “You did well there. Nice to know you can listen when you want to.”

When I don’t respond, he chuckles. “Good girl.”

That’s too much to bear, so I whisper, “Don’t push your luck.”

I feel him walk up stairs and open my eyes to see him open the door to my cabin. Nobody wakes when we enter, and a few seconds later, he sets me down on my bed. I don’t expect him to say anything more since we have no idea who may be listening, but in a gesture that makes me think I might be able to trust him, he cups my cheek, letting his palm rest against my face for a few moments before walking away.

The sound of the door closing makes me stiffen in fear that someone has heard him return me, but as the seconds tick by and no one says a word, I begin to relax. Closing my eyes, I hope he can find my phone and not get caught.

Nash is my only chance to get away from this place, but if Micah or Nadine thinks he’s helping me, neither one of us may be safe.

20

Nash

As I hurryback to my cabin, I see Micah standing on his porch waving me over to him. My heart sinks, but I have to make it seem like I’m not up to anything but helping him. I just hope he buys the act.

When I get closer to him, he flatly says, “Come inside, Nash. Let’s talk.”

Damn. I know that tone of voice. I’ve heard it many times when he’s upset about something Nadine has done, and most recently, I heard it when he found out what Adam did to Maren.

Knowing he may be able to see my face even though I can barely make him out, I force a smile and pick up my pace to get to his cabin quickly. He doesn’t speak when I join him on the porch, but anger practically radiates off him in waves.

I bow, even though I shouldn’t until we go inside, and he turns on his heel to walk into the building without saying a word to me. That’s not a good sign. I follow him into his cabin, and see he’s already sitting on his chair by the time I close the door behind me.

The temperature in here is far more comfortable than my room or outside since the air conditioning keeps it at a very pleasant sixty-eight degrees. As usual, he wears only a pair of dark pants as he reclines against the back of his favorite chair.

Bowing again just in case he didn’t see me do that outside on the porch, I wait for him to tell me to rise. He takes his time, but finally he says, “I want to talk to you, Nash. Stand and look at me.”

I do as he orders, and when my gaze meets his, I see pure rage in his eyes. Even after all this time here, I still have to stop myself from asking what’s wrong. I guess it’s a normal defense mechanism.

He frowns and folds his arms across his naked chest. “James told me he saw you with that new recruit I told you to watch. How do you explain that when she was supposed to be in her bed for the past few hours?”

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