The Sect (3 page)

My attention drew to a man who stuck out amongst everyone else. Even the kitchen staff was dressed in plain clothes, but he was clad in a black button-up and slacks; looking better suited for a Saturday boardroom meeting than a soup kitchen. He was tall and very broad. His shape closely resembled a swimmer’s body. His jet-black hair—with prominent sideburns—was sleeked with pomade and attracted the dining hall’s lighting like a beacon. His square jawline was covered in a light dusting of stubble, contributing to his ruggedly handsome looks. On the right side of his face, off center in his jet-black straight brow, was a scar about an inch long. On the surface of his almond-shaped blue eyes, between thick dark eyelashes, lay a coldness so stark it gave me chills. I had encountered the look once before with a monster who destroyed my life.
 

The stranger’s eyes met mine and the coldness I’d witnessed before began to thaw. It transformed his entire face into a look that was as much beguiling as it was seductive. I didn’t realize I was staring until he cast a crooked smile my way, erasing what little years there were on his face. It was a smile as if he didn’t indulge in one very often. If it was true, it was a shame because it quickly transformed the man from handsome to undeniably gorgeous. When I returned his smile, he looked a little embarrassed and tried to look elsewhere. It was pointless. Our gazes were attracted to one another like positive and negative charged magnets that couldn’t stay away from one another no matter how hard we tried to pull apart.
 

Jeff nudged me hard, thrusting me out of my daze.

I immediately dropped my chin and lowered my hoodie on my head until it cast a shadow down my face.
 

A collective and audible gasp from several people, Harley included, pulled me to look up again. Some individuals clapped, others rose, professing their gratitude to the man who had recently arrived. He looked pleased with their attention, his hazel eyes smiled at his adoring crowd; a simper meaning to be coy but presenting itself as arrogant pressed against his lips. He was definitely an attractive man. The chiseled features, cheekbones to envy, and brilliantly bright hazel eyes entranced me. But behind the surface of earnestness in his gaze lay something that made me deeply uncomfortable.
 

I knew very little about the man, but I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut. The feeling I ignored many times in my life only to have it lead me into trouble.
 

Harley leaned into my ear and whispered, “That’s Reven.”

“Please,” Reven intoned to the crowd of admirers, “enjoy your meals. Don’t allow my arrival to disturb you. I will be inside the church for those of you who wish to seek my counsel. Unfortunately, my time is limited as I have a plane to catch. Normally, I would take anyone who needed to hear an inspiring message to help them out of their time of despair. Today, I can only permit a chosen few. Thank you.” He gave the crowd a nod and turned to the man I locked eyes with earlier. A short discussion was had. The moment happened so swiftly it almost went unnoticed; Reven glimpsed at me and nodded to the man in the corner.

“I don’t like this. Don’t like it one damn bit.” Jeff broadened his shoulders, staring at the stranger I locked eyes with earlier. “If that turd fart comes over here asking for you, don’t you dare go off with him. I don’t believe any of this hogwash all the women throw around. I don’t know not a damn person who has been taken or seen anyone taken. Not a sane person, anyhow. If that man is helping any damn body, he’s taking them to the Bermuda Triangle.” He spat out his words, disgust and anger latent in every syllable. “They leave and never come back.”

The man in the corner broadened his shoulders, and his steps were placed across the concrete floor with a noisy rhythmic clacking sound. I didn’t want to look, but the stranger continued to draw me in. He didn’t walk, he sauntered. His broad back held a perfect posture as he moved with confidence and arrogance.
 

“Noah,” he introduced himself; his soft-spoken, smoky voice threw me off for a moment. Closer to him now, I could see that his blue eyes were encircled in a hazel hue. His dimples became faint against his flawless, tan skin. I appreciated his presence more than I was prepared to. My palms began to sweat and my heart picked up in pace. I was thankful I didn’t have to speak because I was sure my voice would’ve failed me if I tried. I hadn’t experienced a sensation like this in a long time, not since laying eyes on my longtime crush when he took me to my Cotillion many years ago. My internal organs felt like they were swimming inside a maelstrom.
 

“Reven would like to speak to you,” Noah said with a hint of expectation. “Would you come with me, please?”

“Hell no! Mute ain’t going with you.” Jeff threw down his napkin and stood, nearly knocking his chair back with the speed at which he moved. His booming voice and boisterous rebuttal forced a hush across the crowd.

A small, unassuming grin spread across Noah’s shapely pink lips as he seemed to have a hard time taking his eyes off me to regard Jeff. “I assure you, sir, I’ll bring her right back to you.”

“A goddamn lie if I’ve heard one,” Jeff snarled. “I may have been born the other day, but I wasn’t born last night.”

Noah’s grin prevailed, though his eyes turned cold and almost intimidating. “I promise, she will be returned to you.” His words were pressed with a hint of irritation. His arms rested tensely at his sides as his fist began to ball.

The moment Jeff opened his mouth again, I rose and grabbed his arm, shaking my head. Aghast, Jeff’s eyes widened and his neck snapped toward me.

I gave him a sheepish smile and a nod of assurance. Showing his discontent and easily hurting my feelings, Jeff yanked his arm from me and flopped down in his chair in a huff.
 

I walked around the table to meet the Noah on the other side. He kept his distance and I wasn’t sure if it was due to my possibly revolting smell or he was being chivalrous. Upstairs, inside the narthex at the closed double doors leading to the sanctuary, he turned to me. “You don’t have to hide who you are. Out of respect for him and the church, remove your hood.”

I skeptically looked around the side of his broad body, worried that someone else would’ve witnessed my reveal.

“Keaton, you’re safe here,” Noah assured me, and his effortless charm worked through me like a sedative.

The fact that he knew my name without being told threw me into the throes of distrust and disappointment.

His boyish smile returned, warming me again. “Your face is plastered across half of the neighborhood. Else, I probably would’ve just thought you were a very pretty young boy and not the woman that I know you really are. If I can find out whom you are, don’t you think whatever or whomever you’re running from will wind up on your doorstep—or a park bench?”

My eyes shot up to him, unable to fight the way my lips turned up to match his smile. His irreverent sense of humor definitely appealed to me.

He reached up to remove my hood. I quickly grabbed his wrist, shaking my head. Lifting a brow, he looked at the way I held his wrists, a nonverbal command to release him. But, I didn’t want to let go. He carefully pried my hand from his. Our touch lingered, our hands clasped one another, ensuring that the tornado inside my gut turned into a monsoon.
 

“I think that gives you more than one reason to hear what he has to say, doesn’t it?” he asked, a tone softer than his naturally quiet voice offered up his words. Dropping my hand, he allowed it to rest at my side.

With my eyes cast down, I slid my palm up and over my head, removing my hood. Noah took a pointed little while to look at me. A weighted scrutiny made me think my hair looked horrible. I smoothed my hand over my hair in an effort to fix my very sloppy bun. The second I did, the weakened rubber band broke, allowing my hair to fall and drape around my face and shoulders. His eyes gleamed with a glint of an emotion I wasn’t sure I read correctly. It was far from negative. I just couldn’t—or didn’t—find it plausible for it to be the look I assumed it was, desire.

He opened the door for me, permitting me to walk through.

Reven sat in the front pew, gazing at the altar with a quiet, contemplative look on his face. His arms draped across the back of the bench, and his gaze was fixed on the cross in the pulpit.
 

I sat a fair space away from him in the same row.
 

Reven’s eyes shot to mine and were void of geniality. “Reven. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He never offered his hand, nor did he give me a chance or some indication that I should’ve introduced myself. “I can sense it strongly. You’re going to be a difficult one, aren’t you? I may enjoy the challenge later, but soon, you’ll find out that the habits that allowed you to survive in the elements will only serve to deter you from a life you could have.”

The man dismantled everything that was said about him in record time. He was obviously teetering on the verge of insanity—or maybe he was already and completely there. Ready to leave, I glanced around the church, noting the nearest exit.
 

“Keaton,” he continued, the tonality of his voice was authoritative and cold, “if you preempt our conversation by escaping, your destination won’t lead you to freedom. You’ve gone a long time under Jeff’s tutelage without repercussions; it won’t last for much longer. Your pension for relieving men of their wallets can’t continue without consequences. You will go to jail, be fingerprinted, and your identity will be discovered.” He turned his attention back to the cross. “You’re not the first young girl he’s taken under his wing, and you most certainly won’t be his last.” His chin tilted down, forcing his thick curly black eyelashes to cast a shadow over his hazel eyes. “Your choice?”

I looked around skeptically, ensuring no one was around. My first word came out as a hoarse squeak. I cleared my throat and tried to speak again. “Choice?”

“I own several properties,” he explained. “One in particular serves as a refuge for men and women like you. They are given the tools needed for success. They are taught to thrive and given a new life when they complete the program; a life of privilege and safety.” He continued to gaze at the altar. “There is no safety to be had on the streets. Your veteran protector has a volatile nature, does he not?” He turned his gaze toward me. “I understand your trepidation. I assure you, if you don’t want to be found, you won’t be. You will want for nothing, Keaton.” Standing, he approached the altar rails and knelt down. He placed his arms across the banister and clasped his hands together. “Have you been baptized?” he asked while keeping his back to me.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice cracking.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “It’s a very moving, emotional experience, isn’t it?”

It was, but not for the reasons it moved most others. I had shoved most of the memories of my fiancé away. Being reminded of the time I was baptized—by him—was a memory I wanted to leave behind.
 

“Would you mind taking communion with me?” His question was far from a real one.

I found my footing and knelt down beside him.

“Aren’t you curious as to how I knew your name?”

I shook my head, remaining silent. It was obvious that he, like Noah, had caught sight of the dozens of posters I hadn’t yet taken down. I needed to assure myself of that to prevent running and screaming as I’d initially planned. As for why he isolated me and offered me a golden ticket—to a place I assumed was a myth—I wasn’t completely sure if I wanted to know. Nothing offered to me at this point in my life would’ve come without expectations.

“Do you assume that in extending an invitation to you, I desire something in exchange?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the pulpit.

I held my silence for too long, calling his direct attention. I gave him a blank stare, almost succeeding in matching the emptiness that seemed permanently held behind his eyes.

“Your need to keep silent bothers me very little, Keaton. I have demands of you, and in the list of things you will be required to do, nowhere is it necessary for you to speak.”

My silence remained, searching his eyes for a point or a purpose.

“Your mother will catch up to you and she will return you to the life you so desperately want to disappear from. I can offer you a way in which she’ll never find you. I can offer you true freedom.” With a nod, he began to recite the holy sacrament.
 

The pastor of the church appeared from the choir room adjacent to the inner sanctuary. I had recognized him as the one who often opened the doors to the church and sometimes served food in the kitchen. I was told, by the others, the only time he would speak was the moment he reached the pulpit, and his sermons moved many.

The pastor handed me a communion cracker from the silver tray he carried, and a small sampling of grape juice in a plastic flask. I took both down before standing, ready to return to Jeff and vow never to visit another soup kitchen again.
 

“The street is not the place where you belong, Keaton,” Reven stated, keeping his head bowed and his fingers clasped together. “It’s a very dangerous place that could be likened to hell.”

Watching him rise to meet me, I shrugged. “I’ve lived through hell. Living on the street is paradise compared to what I’ve been through. Thank you, but no. I can’t leave Jeff. I’ve never heard of him having anyone else to look out for him. I just…want to be there for him. We…need each other.”