The Sect (22 page)

“I’m so frustrated. Ugh!” Phoebe threw her pencil across the kitchen and swept her arm across the table, sending her homework flying to the floor. She ran her hands through her brown, curly shoulder-length mane, leaving it in disarray.

In the two years I had known her, her behavior seemed to worsen. She had to be the most impossible fourteen-year-old I’d ever encountered. We’d spent hours trying to do homework. Hours in which she spent most of her time on the phone, perusing social media, or using FaceTime to talk to her friends.
 

I thumbed my throbbing temples, hoping to alleviate the ache. “But the formulas are all right here. I wrote them down for you. You just have to plug them in.”

“I don’t get the point.” She fumed, her cheeks puffing out in anger. “When am I ever going to use this shit?”

“Phebes!” Reese turned to chide her from his position at the kitchen counter. His sister’s language appalled him and disrupted him from making dinner for the three of us.
 

My phone vibrated on the table for the twelfth time in an hour. Every time it did, Reese glared at it as if were a bomb, pending an explosion. “Why don’t you answer it?” he snapped, facing the window in the kitchen.

I shrugged while knowing full well that he couldn’t see me.

“Are you cheating on my brother?” Phoebe reached forward and grabbed my phone. “Is that why you two are such prudes? You’re giving your fish taco to someone else.”

“Phoebe,” I protested, reaching for my phone and grasping air, “please give it back.”

She giggled and crawled on top of the table, dodging me every time I tried to get her down, or better yet, grab my phone. Putting her hand on her hip, she used the other hand to explore what was on my phone. Her eyes flickered with mischief as she began to guffaw. “
Why won’t you respond to me, you bitch? I’m going to stuff my cock in your pussy until it bleeds.
” She cackled, covering her mouth. “Oh my God. Who is this guy? He’s so freaky.”

I covered my face, sinking into the chair as I sobbed. My normally mild-mannered fiancé lost his patience. He grabbed his sister off the table, setting her down on the ground. Snatching my phone roughly from her grasp, he threw it across the room; it ricocheted and broke apart.

Phoebe was ready to protest until Reese gave her a look he’d never given her before. His sister had free rein to do whatever she wanted to do without consequences. It didn’t matter how many times she called me a bitch or a whore. If Reese asked her to apologize, she would play on their parents’ deaths; in the end, Reese would forget all about the apology. Usually, he would appeal to me and make me apologize for what he thought was my impatience. Because I didn’t want to argue and thought someday I’d have a real relationship with her, I always complied.

“Why haven’t you done anything, Keaton?” he scolded me, his eyes wide with fury.

“What else am I supposed to do?” I sobbed. “Every time I try to get a restraining order, it’s rejected because they say I have no cause.”

“Well that”—he pointed to the mess that used to be my cell phone on the floor—“can’t go on. It’s not just about your safety. What about Phoebe or my safety?”

I looked up at him, blinking through my tears. “You don’t have to remind me. I know your sister is the center of your world. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

“You sound bitter, Kitty,” she sneered, baiting me with a pet-name she had for me that she was very aware I hated. “I’m family, and you’re not. I’ll be here forever. You won’t. You’re just a cheating whore. My brother so deserves better.”

“Phoebe, upstairs now!” Reese’s booming shout startled us both. His dark, tan skin tone had reddened in hue. His cheeks were engorged, ready to expel hot air.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she protested, crossing her arms.
 

I pushed up from my chair, ready to forget the conversation we were supposed to have tonight about taking a break for a while. It would be yet another night I spent at the local coffee shop; a place I constantly used to get away and clear my head. “Maybe…I should leave.”

“Bye,” Phoebe urged me on with a smile.

I was sick of her constantly belittling me and making me feel unworthy of her brother. Yet, he always pushed us together and never bothered to stand up for me. He was at best a very partial mediator. I’d never met someone with such a trashy vocabulary—and call me by every name in it. I’d been faithful to her brother and nothing short of nice to her, but it never mattered. It was never enough.

The sound of the doorbell pulled us all to settle.

“It’s probably Dennis,” Reese explained after an elongated pause. “He needed a case file.”

Which meant he and Dennis would be occupied for hours. “It’s fine. I was going to go to the coffee shop anyway. It’ll give you some time alone with him.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, appearing completely unapologetic. Shaking his head, he gave Phoebe a pointed glance and headed for the door.

“You’re going to break up, you know,” Phoebe said to me with a smile.

My lips parted, ready to finally get to the bottom of her problem, but a loud bang made us jump out of our skin.

Panic spread on Phoebe’s face. “Reese?” Timidly, she walked forward. She stopped just behind the threshold to the dining room.

“Phoebe. Don’t.” I reached out for her, grabbing her arm back. “We need to go now.”

“Get off me, bitch,” she snapped at me, hitting me and scratching my arm until I released her.

A monster rounded the corner with a shotgun in hand. His sweater and face were splattered with blood. His brown eyes were cold and a cruel smirk pressed across his lips. “I told you I would come for you, angel. You shouldn’t have ignored me. Now I’m going to remove the worthless people who are standing in the middle of our happiness.” He reloaded, staring straight at me, but pointed the shotgun at Phoebe. She seemed frozen in place, unable to move as she stared down the barrel. Shutting my eyes, I swiftly walked backward.
 

On the cusp of the sound of a shotgun going off, I scurried out of the backdoor. I ran around the house and bumped into a hard, large form that sent me flying backward. I skidded across the concrete, the ground burned with friction against the backs of my exposed legs.
 

I peered up at the shadowed figure through tears. I didn’t know the man, but he looked daunting just the same. He glanced up at the house, shaking his head.

“Go,” he told me, stepping aside. “I won’t tell him that I saw you.”

I didn’t take a second to ask questions and I did just that.

Never looking back, I ran, hoping that if I ran fast and far, the nightmare would end and I would wake up to a better reality.

I
N
THE
morning, Nadine met me in my bedroom, dressed in her usual white dress. She took me into the bathroom and set out my makeup for me. “You’re going to have to do something about the puffiness”—she gestured around my eyes—“because it looks like you’ve been crying all night.” She pulled out a curling iron from the drawer of the vanity and placed it on the surface. “Get dressed and I’ll walk you to the theater and show you where and what you’re supposed to do.” She made strides toward the door, stopping when her hand gripped the handle. “Don’t make any more trouble; just do what you’re told.”

I looked at her through the mirror’s reflection, keeping my face even. I was very tired of being told to submit to Reven’s every whim. The belief that there was a way out had almost ignited the glimmer of hope in my mind, reviving it.
 

The moment I looked in the mirror, the images Reven forced me to view sliced through my thoughts, bringing me to tears. Jeff. Phoebe. Reese. All of them were dead because I failed them.

Nadine met me just outside the hall after I had dressed. She nodded in approval at the way I decided to do my makeup.
 

The change of the season made it feel like it might’ve been March, rather than late February. I had no way of looking at a calendar to know.
 

She led me to the lobby of the theater where men and women who were part of the seminars communicated with one another on the lounges while dining on delicacies and drinks. I stood with the others in a line-up along the far wall.

“Reven usually speaks to them individually for a private counsel,” Nadine explained. “If he grants them the privilege of what he calls a blessing or an act of contrition, they will walk over and observe us, but they are not normally allowed to pick us; that is what the others are for—the ones who live in the basement of the theater. No matter what, don’t look them in the eye; some of them become a little paranoid when you do.
 

“Status is very important,” she continued. “Typically, the high rollers who reside in one the houses are allowed to pick us. If that happens, Noah or someone else will serve as an intermediary.
 

“If you see one of the others—the ones who live in the basement—don’t speak to them. They serve one purpose only. Most of them are shuttled straight from the basement into one of two rooms beside the auditorium. There are about twenty-one of them, the last I heard. When Reven begins the service, they scurry into the Paradise or Eden—that’s what we call each of the rooms—and stay there until they are directed to do something.”

“And what am I expected to do if I’m selected?” I asked dejectedly.
 

She blinked at me, visibly put off by my question. “Whatever they want you to do, silly. If you’re ever selected, the last thing you should do is try to get their sympathy and ask them to help you escape. If Reven’s in a giving mood, he can forgive a lot, but if you embarrass him…” She leaned in my ear whispering, “When you tried to escape, did you smell the stench when the wind hits you just right?” She caught sight of Reven approaching us with a gray-haired stout woman and immediately plastered a smile on her face.

I was left with my mouth agape, making assumptions as to what she meant, and hoping it couldn’t have been true.
 

I recalled the smell I’d encountered when I tried to escape. The nature of the smell could’ve only have been described as similar to severely rotted animal meat.
 

“I’m Mrs. Sherman,” the woman next to Reven introduced herself while wearing a warm smile, creating smile lines in her pale skin. “Your initiation yesterday was very moving. I’m sure you feel a monumental weight lifted from your burdens. I would be honored if you agreed to accompany me inside the Paradise room.”

Nadine shoved me forward, ensuring I had very little recourse.
 

Timidly, I took her arm and walked into the theater room at the end of the hall. As we walked down the dim corridor, the din of moans and screams filled my ears. When the grand room was revealed, the sights and sounds shocked my system.
 

The area was gutted of the usual theater seating. The screen in front of the room displayed a very explicit adult film. The area was set up with harness swings mounted from the ceiling, metal examination tables, and round beds. Everywhere I turned, people were having sex or engaging in some sort of fetish. Whether it was two males and one woman or two females and one man, the scenes varied from rough sex, beatings, and masturbatory activities.

The people Nadine warned me about were easy to pick out. The men and women who paid to come were usually older; some distinguished, some were not. Most of them weren’t in the same shapes of the participants, nor could they compare in appearance. While attractive in some shape or form, there was something in their eyes that scared me; they were completely vacant.