The Sect (27 page)

His nails dug into my skin, biting them painfully. “You also can’t rid yourself of the habit of lying to me. I am your god. Do you understand that? I am the beginning and the end. I can end you without a thought and I’m well within my right to do so. Every inch of you belongs to me. Every inch of your body is mine to claim, destroy, and punish. There is no out. You are mine permanently.”

I shut my eyes tightly, spilling my sins the only way I could. The only way I knew would save me. “You were wrong before, about me being the Madonna. My name wasn’t the ‘blow-job whore’ in high school without a reason. I did it because it kept my virginity intact and the boys I liked happy. And yours? I can’t get enough of the way you taste, Reven.” I opened my eyes not knowing what to expect. He held tightly to his inexpressiveness, but I could tell by the silence in the room that I might’ve succeeded.

He grabbed my neck with such abruptness I gagged. “I’m never wrong. Appealing to me by taking on the role of a whore is not the way to appease me. If I want you to be a whore, I will order you to become one. You…” He grazed the back of his hand against my face. “…
were
the Madonna.” His grip loosened as he searched my eyes. He snapped his fingers, directing Noah to release my arms. “She’s…spoiled herself for me. Take her. Punish her for disrespecting her savior.”

Panicked, I looked up at Noah from above me. The obscene sight of the bulge growing and pressing against his slacks alarmed me.
 

“Is there a problem, Noah?” Reven questioned, his eyebrow raised

He glanced over his shoulder at the henchman standing along the wall. “Not much for public displays.”

Reven examined him with a scrutiny that nearly broke Noah’s usual stoic front. “It’s never been a problem before.”

Noah crouched forward, in a way, obscuring his desire for me. “Performance anxiety,” he offered unapologetically with a simper.

“You disappoint me.”

“I know,” Noah admitted, pretending to be swayed by Reven’s words, but it was visibly clear he was far from affected. “And I know what that means.”

“She’s dishonored her virtue,” Reven addressed the henchman standing along the wall, “therefore…she’s my gift to you. All of you. Taste her. Fuck her until she’s broken.”

Torn from one emotion to another, I tried to sit up. My legs and arms were restrained. My eyes followed Reven as he leisurely walked out of the room.
 

“Did you really think I’d buy into your need to placate me?” he asked from over his shoulder while he maintained a steady stride. Turning away from me, he spat, “Consider this your lesson. Since you so gladly wanted to behave like a whore, I’m allowing you the opportunity to fully embrace in becoming one.”

On his departure, between the sea of bodies restraining me, the mischievous glimmer in Noah’s eyes disappeared for fury.

Nothing else could be seen as several men held down my limbs. Mouths were attached to my breasts, mouth, and core. I tried to scream and something musty and thick was shoved into my mouth. My body was shifted and someone slipped their body behind me. My struggle was restrained. I was left open and vulnerable.

Several limbs, mouths, and bodies continued to accost me. Covering me. Blanketing me. Punishing me. While they did everything but penetrate me, it was enough. Penetration mattered very little when their erections were stuffed down my mouth and their cum was spread on my body. To anyone from the outside looking in, it was clear I was brutally taken by two men.

T
HEY
LEFT
me alone for a week—or so I assumed. I stopped counting after the fifth sunset. I’d usually entertain myself by trying to sing a song I made up as I went along. The moment I tried, my voice cracked and I burst into tears. I was completely sure that I’d never have the desire to sing again.

Marcia came to my room three times a day, and with every tray, a piece of chocolate and the yellow and red roses intertwined were brought to my room. Sleep was something I went without and began to feel physically sick by the third day. I was afraid if I rested I would remember the two men and what they did to me, remember the bruises—long faded—that they left me with. It was odd in a way; I never felt that way about the pain Noah inflicted on me. His pain made me feel alive when I thought I was dead. His scars never lasted long. Much like the glimpses of a human hidden underneath the monster, it never stayed around very long, either.

The water in my bath had grown cold. I began to wonder how long I’d endure without being asked to return to the theater or engage with the others of the house. It was better to be left alone, locked in my room. I had replayed the scene of Radley on his knees mouthing unintelligible words to Noah in my nightmares. I thought I made out what he said, but it didn’t make much sense: “I didn’t understand. I’m sorry I failed you.”
 

The lock latched on the door to my bedroom. I crossed my arms in the clear water and tucked my knees to my chest, covering my body.

Jayme stepped inside the room without her usual smile. “It’s time to return to the theater. I’m…supposed to walk you there.”

I searched her face, noting the sadness in her eyes. “Did Radley die, Jayme?”

She immediately dropped her head, sobs making her back heave. “I don’t know. I just know he’s gone, which usually means yes. Yes, he’s dead.”

I stood out of the water, grabbing a towel to cover myself with. I stepped close to her, taking my hands in hers to give her comfort. Keeping my voice quiet, I asked, “Do you still have those pills the doctor gave you?”

She lifted her eyes at me without moving her head. “Yes,” she croaked.
 

“Do you think I can have a week’s worth? I just need something to get me through the day—the week.”

“Give me a second.” She turned on her heels, disappearing for a while.

I went through the motions of getting dressed and applying very light makeup as I waited for her to return. She came back empty handed. When I gave her a look of puzzlement, she whispered, “Beneath the mattress on the right side, take them there and you won’t be seen by the cameras so easily. You’ll only have thirty seconds before the cameras adjust to your motion. I’ll meet you in the hall.”
 

I swiftly walked into the room and did as she said. I tore apart at least twelve packets. I lined up the pills on the floor and hid the empty packets beneath the mattress. I grabbed the dozen in my hand and chucked them into my mouth, swallowing three or four at a time until all were gone.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I waited.

All I could remember was the men with terrifying looks on their faces as they hurt me, reminding me of a monster who violated me and upended my life by taking my fiancé and his sister away from me and their loved ones. A man who wasn’t guilty of the crime was convicted, taken away from whatever life he had because he trusted someone he shouldn’t have.

Radley was no different.
 

Noah, for whatever reason, made him take the fall for a crime that was his and killed him for doing it. Noah took a man out of the world who probably had a family and a girlfriend or boyfriend waiting for him to come home. I was surrounded by evildoers, thinking they were followers of a bigger and better cause.

Noah wanted me broken, and I think he succeeded. My mind and body were split down the middle. One side was dead, and the other was numb. The defense mechanism to guard against further pain was no longer feasible. Every single happy memory I had of my family was gone.

Strength was something I no longer knew the concept of.

Reven had forcefully taken what I had no desire to give; there was nothing left. Noah had split my mind apart from my body, making my form his alone.
 

I hadn’t the slightest memory of the woman I used to be anymore. My history became a faded picture. My family and the love they gave me were slowly devoured in an all-consuming flame.
 

Fingers snapped in front my face, making me shudder more.
 

Jayme’s panicked voice was an echo as her grip burned into my shoulders, shaking me. I was no longer in full faculty of my limbs. They flopped around like a rag doll. The darkness I was clamoring for shrouded me in comfort. I only wished it would stay with me, and the fleeting light of day would never return to taunt me.
 

My hair was tugged, my limp body carried into a bathroom I didn’t recognize. The strong grip on my hair prevented it from floating down and pooling around my face. Fingers were shoved down my throat as I retched into the toilet. My face seemed pulled by a magnet toward the porcelain bowl, ensuring I couldn’t remove myself until my stomach and body were sore from the violence of my sickness. Warm hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me toward a hard chest. I welcomed it, knowing it felt nothing like Reese or my father. It was impossible to feel either. Somehow, it was comfort and continued to be so with the way his heavy hand smoothed down the length of my hair and kept me close.

I saw their faces again and tried to stand. The faces of the people I had lost. The faces of the people who tried to kill my spirit and might’ve succeeded in doing so. I tried to stand, but wound up falling to the floor with a hard slam. The hold he had on my body threatened to become more painful than the internal sensation I couldn’t cure. When I thought to struggle, the startling stream of cold water rained down on my body. It burned like acid rain, making me scream. A voice continuously barked at me, but I couldn’t hear through my screams.

I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. All I wanted was a way out. A reprieve from the torture I couldn’t seem to get away from.

A slap stung my cheek. “Keaton, it’s Noah. Stop fighting me.”

My arms were pinned above my head against the tile in the shower block. During our struggle, Noah was forced under the stream of water, doused just as much, if not more than I was.

“Why did you do it?” His question was accusatory and spoken with so much anger and bitterness I could almost feel it on my skin.

His question shocked my brain.
Why did I do it? Why…did…I…do…it?
I blinked rapidly, staring at him with incredulity.

He continued to study my face, waiting for my answer. “Answer the fucking question, Keaton, because it doesn’t make sense to me. Your ex-boyfriend raped you, stalked you, and taunted you. When he was tired of being ignored, he shot your fiancé and his little sister. Instead of retaking your life, you ran. So tell me why, here, where you are treated well as long as you obey simple rules, did you want die?”