The Sect (14 page)

The sun began to rise as I trudged through the forest. The snow crunched underneath my steps and seeped into my sneakers, increasingly numbing my ability to feel my toes. The cold seeped underneath my parka, taking a gripping hold of my body. I expected to reach civilization after walking what seemed like miles. I disbelieved what Noah said about the distance of the next town. If I was still in the States, there had to be at least one other house on the perimeter of Reven’s land with someone there to help me.
 

A bitter wind blasted my face, carrying with it a smell so putrid I doubled over and dry heaved. My legs gave out and I collapsed—knees first—to the ground.
 

I fought to continue, because death out here seemed just as bad as returning to the place that would inflict me with their ideas and force me to do perverted things, all in the name of a one man.
 

My body violently shivered and my lips felt cracked to the point of bleeding. I sank down further, hugging my knees to my chest, barely able to feel my limbs. I felt…so tired.

The cracking sound of twigs made me pause, the snow crunched, indicating the arrival of at least three other people. The sound was close—too close for comfort. I grasped for something but couldn’t feel anything at my fingertips. The forest began to move in slow motion.
 

I glanced over my shoulder and in between the line of trees, I spied Noah and two other dangerous looking men beside him. Men I’d never seen on the property before. I tried to stand, but it was of no use. I looked up at the closest tree, finding a branch low enough to climb. My first attempt was a failure and I fell hard down into the snow. I tried again but eventually collapsed, unable to get up again.

Voices resounded through a tunnel and several bodies hovered over me. I was airborne and held tightly to a body that provided much-needed warmth. I bounced as though my hero began to run with me in his arms. The sunlight blinded me, pulling me to close my eyes. I was jostled as more muffled words were said to me.

Warmth rushed at my face and I wished I could’ve felt it everywhere. Things were slammed around and my clothes were ripped and yanked off my body. I was bundled tightly in softness and felt a concentrated heat on my stomach.
 

The surface underneath me was much too soft to have been somewhere outdoors. A small flicker of golden light called my attention, but soon enough, the cloud draining my energy took over everything, shrouding my vision and mind in darkness.

“Here. Drink this.” Lulled awake by Noah, I slipped up on the couch, feeling my sore joints protest as I tried to move. I looked around, observing a living room that I didn’t recognize as something in Reven’s home. I was dressed in warm thermals that clung to my form. Several blankets were wrapped around me, making my body perspire. I touched my stomach, feeling my damp skin. A warm heating pack was pressed against my stomach and wrapped around me. I pulled it away, setting it aside, and took the blankets down, feeling very overheated.

He brought the warm cup to my lips, slipping his hand behind my head to make sure I took a sip. The instant I did, he directed my hands to surround the mug of warm liquid—that tasted very much like chamomile tea—and released me. “Is—” I cleared my throat, looking around the living room from where I sat on the couch. “Is this your home?”

He pushed the cup closer to my lips again, urging me to drink.

I took another tiny sip of the tea, slowly looking from over the steaming cup at Noah. He sat across from the couch on top of the coffee table. The sleeves of his dark sweater were pushed up, exposing his muscular forearms and the veining in his hands. Behind him, the fireplace was ignited, the orange glow serving as a backlight, illuminating touches of blue undertones in his black hair. It was a perfect mess as though he couldn’t keep his hands out of it.
 

A tinge of weariness was in his eyes as he stared at me. He clasped his hands across the gap in his legs and leaned forward. “That was a really stupid fucking thing to do,” he stated, his voice more hoarse and soft than usual. “You’re lucky I found you when I did. You’re very fucking lucky you didn’t lose a digit or a toe. What were you thinking? I told you how far the next town was. Did you want to die?”

I hugged my tucked legs with one arm, resting the steaming cup between my knees. I felt less than lucky about any of it. Remembering what Jayme stated about this place, I felt like I was waiting for execution; the time at which I’d be accepted into Rebirth and forced to accept a fate I didn’t want. “Maybe I did,” I said, knowing well that I didn’t want to die; I wanted to escape.

He quirked a brow at me, his lips narrowing. “Do you think that’s fucking funny?”

Startled, I looked at him. The way he reacted to my irreverent joke confused me. “I don’t understand you, Noah,” I stated, a little frustrated and very befuddled. “On the one hand, I know you don’t care about me; on the other, you do things to make me think that beneath the twisted individual, maybe you do.” I swung my aching body around and set the cup of tea down on the table beside him. My action pulled me closer to him and without a warning, his hand found the back of my head, pulling me to stand with him.

“Why am I here?” I asked, taking in shallow breaths. His intoxicating scent and entrancing hazel-blue eyes were hard to ignore. “This is your place, isn’t it? Between saving me, bringing me here instead of back to Reven, and the flowers…Why are you taking such a vested interest in me?”

His fingers got lost in the hair at the back of my head. Tugging my strands, he forced my head to tilt until I became completely locked in his gaze. The way his teeth sank into his plump lips called my attention. Catching onto my stare, he smirked ensuring my heart raced at a painful pace.
 

“Now that you’re better,” he began, his smirk turning deviant, “you know what’s going to happen next, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t have expected an answer to my questions, but a part of me hoped he would answer. The disappointment was palpable.

Staring at me in silence, his jaw flexed and spasmed. Finally blinking, he spoke, “No matter how many times you were told, you think you can change the way things are. I think you can be smarter than this, Keaton. I think that deep down you’re very familiar with how this works. The best advice I can give to you is to tell you to stop asking me questions. I’m not your subordinate. I’m not your friend. I owe you nothing.”

“No, Noah. I won’t stop asking questions, because I think you’re a walking contradiction.” I pressed my hands against his hard chest. The muscles were easily felt and partially seen through his dark blue cashmere V-neck sweater. “Why did you send me flowers?” I winced as I felt something growing between us. Something that should’ve disgusted me, but it didn’t. I felt like I should’ve pushed away, but I didn’t. Increasingly, Noah made me feel abashed by my reactions to him.

He slowly smirked, taking a sick little pleasure in my reaction. He hooked his arm around me, pulling me close enough that I could feel it throb between us. “We’ll get to that someday, Keaton.” He brushed his lips against my forehead, making me shudder. “I can tell how badly you want it. But…not yet.” He tugged my hair again, making my neck crane into an uncomfortable arc. “This is what I’ll tell you; I will never answer your questions unless I want to give you answers. Right now, I don’t. I probably never will. For now, I want you to do what you were told. I want you to finish your fucking tea.” He released me, pushing me back on the couch.

I flopped down, the leather cushions protested with a resounding groan beneath me.
 

He picked up the cup and shoved it in my face. “Drink it.”

With an angry gusto, I clutched the cup and drank it down, giving little concern to how it burned my throat and tongue with the temperature. I slammed the empty cup down on the coffee table and folded my arms. “Now what?”

“We wait,” he sneered.

I didn’t give much thought about what he meant until my body began to react. My ears were flooded with a whirling sound. My mind became full of dark clouds, threatening to pull me under. My grip on consciousness began to slip, sending me off balance.

I tried to stand, but my equilibrium wouldn’t allow it. I fell against his body. He picked me up, enveloping me in his arms. “When you wake up, we’re going to have some fun, princess.”

Darkness took hold of my sight and my consciousness.

A
STINGING
sensation exuding from my behind jolted me awake. My body—in a precarious position—could barely rebel from the pain. The taste of animal hide in my mouth made me gag. As I adjusted my lips, the restrictive piece never moved, keeping my tongue down and my jaw clenched. The mobility of my head was limited. My legs were spread and bound to rigid wood surfaces. Only the tips of my toes touched the cold concrete floor. I was bent over and tied to a leather bound saw bench that only supported my chest and torso. My hands were bound behind my back from elbow to wrist. Something thick and restrictive was around my neck and attached to the apparatus beneath me.
 

I was naked, my most vulnerable part exposed. Through the clouds of my tears, I saw someone in the foreground. His muscular back was decorated in wounds here and there. They were deep and encompassing enough to be stab or gunshot wounds. Beyond it, were two skeletal drama mask tattoos that extended down the entire length of the left side of his back. The masks were intricately designed and expressed laughter and sadness. Beneath each one, scrolled within a ribbon banner were the words: “Laugh Now” and “Cry Never.” He pulled his sweater from the table. Shoving it on, he combed his hair with his fingers, fixing it into a less messy style.

He looked over his broad shoulder at me; his hazel-blue eyes stared at me with indifference.

His words, warning me against defiance and foretelling what would happen if I did replayed in my head. I began to writhe against my restraints, hoping somehow to get free.

“The struggle is just going to tucker you out before I’m ready,” he stated, pushing up the sleeves of his dark V-neck sweater up to his elbows. “I’m a master at restraints. Even if you were double-jointed, you’d never be able to get out of that.”
 

I watched him amble toward the wall of torture devices and retrieve a whipping cane.

“Are you ready for this, princess? I have to tell you, I’m a little excited.” He walked over to me, whipping the cane in the air. The daunting sound hit my eardrums, turning my writhes into frightened trembles. He rounded my position, disappearing from view. His breath on my spine made me whimper and jolt. His fingers at the small of my back and to my ass made me cry, because his touch still elicited things that I didn’t want to feel. “First comes the pain, then the pleasure,” he whispered against my skin.