The Sect (5 page)

“Where am I? Why am I here?” I asked. My tone was frantic and my words were hoarse due to my very dry and parched throat. “Why did you drug me and bring me here when I said I didn’t want to come? Why would you force me to be here unless this was a place where I would be hurt?”

“It was only to help you, Keaton.”
 

I knew that this place—whatever it was—wouldn’t ‘help’ me. Help didn’t come in the form of sedatives and private plane rides to a place that was fully thrust into winter at the end of October. “Help me?” The words were barely audible through my expressive disbelief.
 

He reached underneath his dark coat and pulled out a knife from behind his back. The sight of the hunting knife made me gasp. He fought with a skewed smirk that made my trembles a little worse. He crouched forward and wedged the cold blade between the skin of my wrists and the railroad ties. With a crude jerk, he cut through the plastic band and moved to the other side. Finally free, I stood slowly as he gave me space. He studied me as though he very well expected me to try to escape.

I sidled out of the row to stand in the aisle. My gaze moved to the open cabin door again, gauging how and if I could escape without him stopping me.

An impatient breath unfurled as he sauntered closer to me. His thick dark brows curved with a hint of mischief and malice. Leaning down a smidgen to meet my height, he pinched my chin between his fingers, jerking my head up to regard him. I struggled, but he hooked his forearm around my back, bringing me toward his body with a force that made me crash against him.

“It’s much too early for this, Keaton. Be nice and your first night will be gentle. Don’t fight. If you do, you’ll get a little alone time with me. Trust me; you don’t want that. The things I will do to you will be worse than the stuff of your nightmares. Obey. Please. Abide. Do that and you’ll be safe. You’ll get what Reven promised you back at church. Freedom.”

Holding firm to my defiance, I pressed my palms against his chest, attempting to get away.

“What the fuck did I just say, Keaton?” He scowled at me, holding me tight enough to restrict my lung capacity.

“I didn’t ask to be brought here,” I retorted, out of breath. “Did you really expect me to just go along with what you tell me to do just because you claim it will give me freedom? I had freedom in the place you took me from.”

He snickered. “Keaton? Really? I have a file on you that exposes all your dirty little secrets. I know everything about you. I know the reason you were on the streets. How long do you think you could’ve kept living that way without him catching you? A man like that has many resources. After all, he never went to prison for what he did to you, did he?” He stared at me while holding firmly to my body.
 

He wanted a reaction, I was sure of it. As much as I wanted to relent and give into the emotions bubbling in my throat, I didn’t. “I was doing fine.”

His smile tempered, his Adam’s apple rocked dramatically in his throat as he swallowed. “I’m not ready to scare you yet. I want to. Believe me, I do. If you’re feeling really daring and want to see how I can frighten you, princess, keep misbehaving. Disobey. Go ahead. Give me plenty of reasons to teach you the meaning of fear.”

His threats did very little to scare me; however, the pet label he gave me, irritated and interested me all at once. “Don’t call me princess!”

“Wasn’t that what you were? A pampered princess who couldn’t deal with the big bad world so you ran?
Princess.”

“And who are you? The villain?”

“I’m something much worse than the villain,” he sneered. “Something you’ll never find a definition for.”

Violent shivers ran down my spine. As I stared into the void inside his eyes, I realized I had every reason to fear, but couldn’t find it in me to feel that way. The soul of the woman I used to be was torn to shreds and darkened. What little semblance of the woman left was quiet, hidden. It meant nothing when I’d lost the things I cared for by acts of evil. I had faced down my biggest villain. The one before me couldn’t measure up, no matter how much he threatened me.

The moment his hold on me weakened. I lunged forward, head butting him with the hardest part of my forehead. When he moved, I ran. My foot was caught on the stairwell by a heavy, thick hand and I fell on the stairs. To break my fall, I reached out, my hands slamming against the metal steps. The sting hit me hardest at my wrists and made me quietly declare my pain. I kicked aimlessly, moving the direction of my legs until they connected with something of Noah’s to make him sputter. The bottom of my foot jammed against something hard. He grunted, releasing me and allowing me to find my footing.

Picking up a racing stride, I screamed at the top of my lungs for someone to help me as I ran down the runway. As the world around me whizzed by, I couldn’t find another plane or a single person around. A black town-car with tinted windows was parked in front of a closed hangar door at the very end of the small, private airport, and it seemed to be my only way out.

Noah’s heavy footsteps began to catch up with me. The moment I moved to pound on the glass of the car, the door swung open, hitting me in the head and knocking me down to the ground.

 
Dazed and unable to find my bearings, I crawled across the frigidly cold blacktop. My hands, pained from my fall earlier, failed me with their inability to hold the weight of my body. The sound of several male voices, vocalizing their discontent, became quieter as my body sunk to the ground.

My legs were brought together and painfully tugged. I was dragged against the cold ground. My sweatshirt rode up, exposing the flesh on the small of my back. The ground assaulted me, biting and scraping against my exposed skin. Squinting from the direct light of the sun overhead, Noah stood over me. I lurched forward and he quickly stepped on my hair, ensuring I became pinned against the ground. He crouched down, his face contorted in anger. “Are you fucking crazy? No one is going to help you here. Everyone here works for Reven. You’d have to travel at least sixty miles by foot to find someone who would be willing to help you. Scream all you fucking want. No one will help you.”

Struggling, I attempted to move his leg from its position on my hair. Straddling my body, he pinned my arms above my head, restraining my movement.
 

I fought and fought. Nothing seemed to matter. The more I fought, the stronger his hold became.

A portion of his ample pink lips disappeared between his teeth. With a sick smirk, he sucked his bottom lip and shook his head at me. His hand clamped around my throat, choking me.
 

Reven stood over me, blocking out the light with his position. Shaking his head and tsking, he glared down at me. “Ill-tempered with ill-manners? You’re a very petulant woman, aren’t you? I planned to give you the opportunity to seek absolution tonight. If you had, you would’ve been allowed the ability to seek comfort in a room of your own inside my home. It’s quite clear that you need to be taught a lesson on who among us is the omnipotent, because it is abundantly clear that you’re unaware.”
 

Reven stepped away, permitting the sun to offend my vision and blind me. Noah pulled me up roughly, bear-hugging me from behind with such a brutal strength, I couldn’t breathe. A painful pinprick was felt on my neck, coercing me to pause my struggle for an instant.

As a pinching sensation pervaded from my neck, I screamed, enacting the defense I’d learned on the streets.
 

Annoyed, Noah quickly covered my mouth and pressed his lips against my ear. “I’m starting to miss the times when you were quiet. My best advice to you is to shut up before I lose my patience and remove your tongue.”
 

I quieted down and stilled my movements.

Quickly, I was shrouded in darkness as whatever drug they stuck inside my neck stole my consciousness.
 

Noah threw me over his shoulder like a sack, carrying my increasingly limp body to an unknown destination.
 

As I was moved, the sounds of the still air and the sights of the airport became blacked out and silent.

T
HE
HEAT
of the room was stifling. I could feel it radiate through the floors, turning hotter and hotter. Not a peep of light shone inside the room. I felt around the hard floor, hearing only the sounds of labored breaths. I crawled, patting the smooth, hot floor until the top of my head bumped into something softer. The cone-like, highly textured walls were familiar. They were a more extreme example of the walls of a music studio, indicating the room was soundproofed. I felt around, guiding myself with my hands. The darkness didn’t give me very much of an indication to the room’s size. I couldn’t feel a single seam for the door. I was trapped. Screaming for help would’ve been pointless and just expended the energy I needed to escape when given the chance. No one would hear me, and even if they did, I was sure they wouldn’t care.

My internal clock told me that days had passed, but my eyes were shrouded in thick darkness, preventing my ability to be sure. My difficulties with sleeping had very little to do with the concrete. I’d gone without creature comforts, and learned to adapt without them. I could’ve slept on anything. This surface was very different and held a radiant heat that seemed to increase the moment I began to try to sleep. It felt similar to trying to sleep on the blacktop during a very hot sunny day.
 

I paced and tried to sleep while standing in the corner of the room; it didn’t work, either. The room’s temperature constantly heightened, ensuring the air became sweltering and nearly impossible to breathe.
 

 
The rumbling hunger inside my belly began to ache. I hadn’t ever felt a hunger pang so strong. Small, starchy meals often tricked my stomach after I trained it to take in very little. I’d gone—at most—three days on two crackers. The hunger pangs in my stomach told me I might’ve gone just as long, if not longer, without a meal

My body was draped in sweat, forcing my clothing to cling to me and weigh me down. Removing my sweatshirt and peeling my pants from my body, I hoped to find a reprieve from the heat.
 

My heart began to race. I couldn’t…breathe. The dissipating air made me feel dizzy. My lungs expanded painfully, straining for fresh air. I had to urinate so badly, my body trembled.
 

On the streets, I’d always used public bathrooms, port-o-potties, discarded cups, or went under the cover of trees. Relieving myself in a heated room that I was forced to sleep in wasn’t the best idea. As I began to feel as though I was suffocating, I slid my panties down my legs and found a corner to relieve myself in.
 

I crawled to another corner and crouched down. My eyelids became too heavy to hold up and I crashed down against the floor.
 

Cooler air rushed in, surrounding my body. The sound of a cigarette lighter reverberated inside my head. I lifted my chin, focusing on the small glimmer of light. I could barely see through the sweat stinging my eyes. Something cool was pressed against my lips. “Drink,” a male voice demanded. The smoky voice with a hint of wickedness could’ve only been one man, Noah.

I obeyed, cupping the glass as I sipped on the crisp liquid until there was nothing left to drink. Having held my breath to drink down as much as I could, I gasped for air. He removed the glass from my lips and set it down beside me. In a blur of movements, he urged my body forward. “Stand.”