The Sect

  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.

  THE 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.”

  My limbs shook as I weakly stood on my hands and knees only to collapse, too weak to crawl and much too weak to stand. His big, strong hands wrapped around my waist. Picking me up, he threw me over his shoulder. I lacked the strength but still tried to fight against him. I hit his broad back, but it was of no use. The man overtook me in strength by an immeasurable number. I quickly tired myself out and sank against his body.

  I was simply an object to him; nothing I did tampered with his hold or his long strides. I gave up, bouncing over his shoulder like a dead body not yet touched by rigor mortis.

  The bright light in the hallway stung my eyes. I blinked at the blinding light until I could focus.

  We traveled down a narrow hall toward a set of stairs at the end of the corridor. Once we reached the top landing of the stairs, I was sure I was hallucinating by what I saw. I blinked several times; the scene never changed.

  I didn’t need to see the entire floor plan to know the house was decadent and massive. I weakly placed my hands on Noah’s back, lifting my head and shoulders up just enough to view my surroundings. The hues of the home were dark jewel tones; deep burnt oranges, decadent plums, and midnight blues. The furniture was mostly glass or dark espresso stained wood. The decorations were simple; a lamp there, an abstract painting here. It was for all intents and purposes a beautiful estate.

  He rounded the hall toward the grand stairs inside a foyer that spanned all three levels of the house. The size of the foyer was the equivalent to the square footage of my home in D.C. The sounds of his dress shoes echoed in the expansive space, muting as he marched up the stairs, which was adorned with an intricately printed runner. I looked to the right and counted a wing of at least nine rooms before I was abruptly transported to the left. I counted the closed doors on the left wing, stopping at the count of nine before I was pulled into a room—a bedroom.

  A black four-post canopy bed was set up along the far wall and dressed in white plush linens. A white fainting couch was situated next to a picture window, offering a beautiful view of several acres of the lawn, blanketed in fluffy white snow. On the opposite end, a flat screen television was hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

  “This is your room,” Noah told me, his deep voice vibrated through his back and rumbled against my palms. “If you can behave yourself, you won’t be returned to the deprivation room.”

  Confusion flooded my mind. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the how and why I was brought here. But, the place labeled as my room was far from what I assumed it would be.

  Was I wrong about it all? Was it really just the place Harley said it was? I couldn’t discount what I assumed about the nature of the man holding me, or what lay behind the eyes of the man who kneeled next to me and took communion. My punishment in the deprivation room couldn’t be negated. The feeling in my gut indicated that beneath the beauty of this place and the men I met was a sinister purpose. A purpose I was sure to explore whether I wanted to or not.

  The creak of a door resounded and Noah grabbed my hips, pulling me down from his shoulder to stand on level ground. I crashed into his hard chest, forcing him to steady me. “Bathe, then you can eat. You…pissed yourself.”

  My knees wobbled and I fell again.

  “Come on, princess.” With exasperation that made his brows furrow, he pulled me back up. “Stand up, or I’ll undress you and bathe you myself.”

  I immediately pushed off him, falling against a wall like a drunk who didn’t know her limitations. Turning around to face the wall, I fingered the structure, wallpapered in dark blue damask print. The tiles on the floor were cream and a standing marble shower was set up opposite the window. A large claw foot bathtub was in the middle of the space and a double vanity sink was against the adjacent wall.

  I quickly averted my eyes before I caught sight of my reflection in
the mirror. Turning around again, I rested my back against the wall. The room’s chilly air temperature reminded me that I was underdressed. I crossed my arms in front of my body, seeking modesty underneath Noah’s charged stare.

  He was right that I’d pissed myself, my nose began to clear and the stench of my familiar scent—that I’d once became accustomed to—almost made me gag.

  He glanced at the bath, full of water, topped with bubbles, with steam radiating from the surface. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered once more with impatience.

  The tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of witnessing my emotions. I readopted my need to be silent and shook my head. I refused to look at him, staring instead at his long legs dressed in black Italian-wool slacks.

  He moved forward, his arms serving as gates around me. The scent of his clean cotton cologne wafted around my nose. I kept my eyes down, firm in my refusal. The moment he picked me up, he evoked a physical reaction that became increasingly hard to ignore. As he stood in front of me, staring at me, it became blinding. I couldn’t decipher what it was. I only knew that I hated it.

  “You’re a very stupid girl to continue to fight like this,” he stated softly. “It’s pointless. Eventually, we will get bored with you and you don’t want to know what happens when we get bored. I don’t think you want to find out, do you?” The timbre of his voice held a jagged huskiness. The pinching touch his fingers held on my chin propped my head up to meet his gaze and forced my deference. Harsh blue eyes surrounded by specks of hazel—set against flawless, tanned skin—searched my light brown eyes.

  He firmed his angular jawline, adorned with a light dusting of jet-black stubble. He continued to stare at me as intently as I stared at him. The feeling I loathed began to churn inside my stomach, making my knees buckle just a little bit more.

  “Don’t get me wrong”—he moved closer, a simper appearing across his face—“if we have to go there with you, I’m going to enjoy breaking you in every time you fuck up…but do we need to jump ahead of ourselves?” He pressed his body fully against me, his fingertips gliding across the skin on my arms that were dangling at my sides. “You’re starting to make me think you want it.” His smile deepened, taking pleasure in the way he made me shudder. “Is that what you want, princess? To be broken?”

  I slammed my back against the opposing wall, disengaging my chin from his hold. “Why do I have to get undressed with you in the room?”

  He curved one of his perfectly straight jet-black brows and ran a hand over his hair, parted and molded backward. “Take off your damn clothes, Keaton.” He whispered my name like it was a secret he hated to keep. “Take them off, or I will rip them off.”

  I set my gaze to the ground, unwilling to comply.

  He reached down, clasping my neck with one of his strong hands, squeezing enough to make me panic and gasp for air. “You think you’re the only woman who thought if she fought hard enough, she would be released? You won’t. You will never win.”

  My eyes flickered as I looked up at him. I’m fighting you, I thought but didn’t have the courage to state. Lifting my chin, I narrowed my eyes at him, unwilling to give up my defiance so easily.

  “Is this your idea of a fight, princess?” he snickered. “You had more spunk when you were at the airport.” As he leaned down, his smirk intensified, revealing the faint dimples in his cheeks. His deviant smile made him appear boyish. He could’ve been in his early-twenties, but the depth behind his eyes made him appear a little older. “Please, Keaton,” he goaded me, brushing his lips against my forehead and placing his palms against the bathroom wall. His touch and close proximity elicited an uncontrolled and involuntary reaction from my body. “Fight me.” His words were breathy and seductive, further increasing the sensation he elicited inside of me. “I’m more than happy to bring out all my toys and show you all the dirty tricks I can perform with them.”

  Trembling, I was the first to break our stare, and it erected a grating laugh from him.

  He pushed off the wall, giving me only inches to move. “I have a feeling I won’t have to repeat my directions. Do I, Keaton?”

  I tried to walk, but having been without food for too long, my movements were clumsy.

  Grasping the crown of my hair in his strong big hands, he pulled me up to stand. I slipped and so did his grip, coercing his hands to wrap around my hips; his touch burned the exposed skin.

  On the verge of the sizzle wrapping around my hips and reaching an area that had never been alive, I yanked away from him. Shaking my head, I wiped the invisible remnants of his touch from my skin with the back of my hand.

  He pressed me silently with his eyes, urging me to do as told.

  Keeping my eyes on him and his increasingly hypnotizing face, I slowly slipped down one of the straps of my bra. I hugged myself, keeping my bra strap from completely sliding down. I twirled my finger in a circle, asking him to turn around and permit me privacy.

  “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen hundreds of times before, princess.” Shocking me, he turned on his heels, obliging a request I didn’t think would be so easily followed. His chin pointed over his shoulder, his eyes remained away. “Don’t do anything stupid, Keaton. Just take a bath.”

  Reaching behind me, I unsnapped the sweat-laden garment and allowed it to drop to the floor. I shoved down my panties, stepping out of them.

  Sliding my feet against the cold tile, I stepped high, slipping into the warm bathwater. My eyes drew heavy as I immediately sank into the comforting bathwater, feeling a sensation I hadn’t felt in months.

  The padding of bare feet against the hardwood in the bathroom called my attention. I drew my arms across my chest—even though my naked body was covered by the bubbles—expecting to see Reven.

  Instead, a woman with blond hair styled in voluminous curls appeared. She wore a striking red spaghetti strapped silk dress with a high low hem. The thin material exposed enough to indicate that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  “What took you so long?” Noah snapped at the new arrival.

  Her lips puckered, the pink-hued lipstick had faded away from her lips, leaving only a slight tint of color. “Reven had a confession to receive and the man needed absolution. He also needed my prayers.”

  Noah’s posture became rigid, showing his discomfort. He glanced at me for a moment before turning to the woman. “Keep it quiet. Don’t tell her yet, Jayme. She’s not ready.”

  Jayme looked taken aback as though his request was abnormal. “But we always—”

  He marched forward, making her shrink from him. “Not. Yet.”

  She kept her gaze on the ground and nodded as though she had a nervous tick. “Okay, Noah. I understand.”

  Noah shot me one more glance before leaving the bathroom.

  Jayme gave me a smile, showing off her impossibly white teeth as her green eyes sparkled. “I’m Jayme. Welcome to The House of Rebirth. I’ll let you have your privacy, but I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ll be your guide today and show you around the house. There’s more staff than there are people like us here. Usually, there are three girls and three guys who stay inside The House of Rebirth.

  “There are other houses on the property but they are temporary retreats for the elite members who come for the shorter seminars to seek Reven’s help. The ones who live in the houses on the property are very special people who Reven and Noah are very secretive about. If you ever see them, pretend they are invisible because they usually don’t want to be bothered. The houses are only for a select few.

  “The rest of the members—men and a few women—stay in the penthouse suites above the theater. You won’t run into them yet, but if you do, there is one big rule, besides the first big one. Never talk to the members unless they talk to you. Well…I’ll be out here when you’re ready.” She pointed to the adjoining bedroom. “There are dresses for you to wear in the wardrobe closet.” She pointed to the armoire
in the corner.

  “Wait,” I called out, stopping her stride at the doorjamb. “What is the first rule?”

  She looked over her shoulder at me; her smile was long gone. “Never disobey Reven. And this is right up there too—tied for first: Never piss off Noah.” Swiveling around, she continued her stride out of the bathroom.

  After bathing and washing my hair, I pulled the stopper from the tub. I found a plush white terry cloth towel draped over the towel rack and wrapped it around my body, tucking it under at my chest.

  Full sized toiletries were on the vanity, including a variation of perfumes. I indulged in things I hadn’t in a long time; brushing my teeth, washing my face, and using the deodorant.

  In the armoire, I found several exact replicas of the dress Jayme wore hanging on the rack. With reluctance, I slipped the straps of the dress off the cloth hanger and slipped it on.

  Looking down, I had a strong desire to cover up my nipples because they were easily shown through the material. I kept my arms crossed in front of my chest when I met Jayme in the bedroom.

  She sat on the bed, her posture rigidly straight with one leg crossed over the other. “Lose that.” She pointed to my arms. “Reven believes the body should be cherished like a temple for pleasure, pain, and a tool of absolution; not treated like a hidden secret.” Standing, she marched forward, unfolding my hands and directing me to leave them at my sides. “You will learn that in your teachings.”

  “Teachings?”

  “Yes, from the Rebirth Doctrine.” She began to walk toward the bedroom door. She looked over her shoulder at me, expecting me to fall in step.

  Running my hands down the length of my waved up and damp hair, I tentatively followed behind her. “The other woman on this wing, Nadine, lives a few doors down. She’s occupied at the moment, but you’ll meet her soon.” She walked toward the stairway in silence, stopping at the landing of the stairs before she descended. “That is the men’s wing.” She gestured toward the left side to the corridor that was now behind her. “Don’t ever go down there unless you are instructed to by Reven or Noah. Radley, Sander, and Adam live there. You’ll meet all three at breakfast after we walk the property.”