The Sect

by Lane, Courtney

  He had evoked a woman inside me I didn’t know was there—maybe it was a woman who was squelched before she could find out who she truly was.

  “I’ve promised you that I’d keep your secret. I need you to keep mine. Don’t share this with anyone, Keaton, and I’m not talking about just staying silent. Your eyes and your body language have a way of giving you away. I need you to hide it from them. Can you do that?”

  Unable to answer, our eyes locked for only a moment before he released me. After pulling out of me, he stood and began to redress. As the feeling he ignited began to burn out, I felt a familiar feeling. Shame washed over me, punishing me with self-depreciating thoughts over what I had allowed to happen, and my unfettered response to what he did to me.

  I quickly pulled my dress back over my body. He reached in his pocket, retrieving a handkerchief, and tossed it at me. With my eyes down, I cleaned myself up. The swirling inside my gut became a sinking pit of disgust and humiliation. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t deny what he made me feel. Sex repulsed me, but I sexually desired him. The contradictory feelings made my head pound.

  The more I engaged in eye contact with him, the more the lingering thick heat emanated from the both of us.

  He immediately stepped backward, holding up his hand. “Don’t make me regret this. I only did it because…Fuck!” He thrust his hand into his hair, his face showing the torment I felt inside. “I don’t remember my reasons anymore.”

  “Because you know what it feels like and you knew what he was going to do to me. I hate to say I appreciated it.” I fiddled with my fingers as my hands rested in front of my body. “How can I appreciate what I’d recall as my first time when it was here? Like this. With you. It’s the worst scenario.”

  “You’re being a bitch about this, you know?” he snapped, his question obviously rhetorical. “It could’ve been a much worse scenario. Are you always this ungrateful? I saved your ass upstairs. Those men would’ve torn you apart. I saved your ass just now. I continuously save you in ways you don’t even realize. Don’t make Reven right about you; a rich bitch who couldn’t appreciate what she had because she thought some lunatic ruined it for her. Continue to be stupid and you’re going to get yourself killed because you don’t get the point. Jayme is gone,” he pointed to his temple, “but Nadine? You need to take pointers from her.”

  “Why?” I snapped, my voice trembling in anger. “Because she’s the most obedient?”

  “She’s not brainwashed. What she understands is this: The strong don’t break, they give in only because they need to find a way to survive.”

  I glared at him. “Maybe you’re brainwashed, too.”

  He charged toward me, throwing me up against the wall so hard, I became dizzy. “Don’t ever fucking say that to me, Keaton. You have no idea what I’ve gone through. But what I’m not—nor will I ever be—is brainwashed.” He released me with a slam.

  I swept the tears from my cheeks, angry that they dared to fall. “You do these tiny little things that make me think you might actually be a decent guy, and then turn around and become so cruel. Maybe there is something wrong with me because I keep trying to see kindness in your cruelty. I guess maybe you’re not brainwashed…yet. You’re biding your time, fighting with it. But, that man—Reven—is changing you.” I clasped my head, wondering if my assumptions were off base in an effort to erase what was the truth. “I have to believe that. I have to believe I didn’t spread my legs—willingly or unwillingly—to another monster.” I shook my head as I averted my eyes. “You say I should keep my mouth closed and never let on that something is going on between us, but could you be any more obvious? You weren’t obvious with Jayme. You were very convincing with her, but…”

  Frowning, he raised a midnight black brow at me. “I wasn’t obvious with Jayme? Because—I don’t know why the hell I’m telling you this, but—it should’ve been you. I only thought about you. I only wanted you. It’s the only way I could fuck her the way I did.”

  “I don’t care.” I tried to sound indifferent, but my voice trembled, revealing something else.

  “You do. You know it was you I wanted. And you? It makes me a bastard to say this, but I have to say it. Watching your reaction as I screwed another woman, made me harder. You were so jealous and pissed off I could physically feel it. Keaton…I made you crave me just like I said you would.” His hand clutched the back of my head, tangling in my hair and keeping me still. He pressed the palm of his other hand down the middle of my torso, burning me further. A fire in his eyes showed me just how much he wanted me, and I wanted him. I wanted what someone else was given that only I should’ve had.

  The seed of fear and the memories of the deplorable things he did to my body choked me.

  “I want to possess you.” He held me tighter, his lips grazing down the length of my nose. “I want to say that if anyone here tried to force themselves on you, they would die. Not soon, not on your timetable, but trust me, they will die. I want to say that, but I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?” I asked with a sob.

  “You still don’t understand how this works,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re pulling Reven’s attention, and the more you pull, the more he will want to control you. Eventually, he will try to find a way to make sure you’ll never see me again.”

  My hands were on his back, feeling the scars underneath his shirt. As I touched each one, the strength of his hold began to wane and his blinking slowed. “At this point, in this place, I don’t think that’s such a bad thing. There is no such thing as happiness or true friendship here. It seems Reven programmed it to be that way.”

  Dropping his hold on me, his head snapped to the door, a frown deepened the lines around his mouth. “Good. Hopefully, you can be more convincing with him than you were with me just now. He thinks he knows everything about me, but he doesn’t. If he knows about you, he’s going to manipulate the way you feel—” He lost his breath and had trouble swallowing. “What happened with Jayme will happen again. If not with her, it will be with someone else. And it will happen to you, too. But it will not be by force. I don’t care what I have to do to make sure that happens, but I’m going to do everything in my power to prevent it.” He kissed my forehead gently, and the heat on my skin made it tingle.

  His hand wrapped around my throat, choking me. In a panic, I stared up at him, confused and struggling for breath. When I tried to fight him off, he gripped my wrists harshly, cutting off my circulation. The moment my vision began to fuzz over with white spots, he released me. “It had to look convincing,” he said as he eyed my neck. “We don’t want people thinking I brought you in the deprivation room to fuck you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear to make you look at me the way you are now, do we? Go to your bedroom and wait for instructions in the morning.” He had left me before I had a chance to respond to the massive maelstrom he threw me into.

  THE PAST

  Being that it was my first night on the street, I didn’t want to be the spoiled brat who complained about her living conditions, but sleeping underneath the park bench while Jeff slept on top of it didn’t seem fair.

  “You…move too much,” Jeff said above me through a yawn.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized quietly, trying to make sure no one heard me. The idea of not speaking became a concept too difficult to tackle. “I don’t want to complain. This…just…sucks.”

  One eye peeped open, he looked almost amused with me. “What did you expect the Ritz?”

  “The shelters have beds,” I countered. “Why don’t we go there?”

  “Too many rules,” he balked, “not enough beds and too many horny men who will eat you alive while I sleep.”

  “Oh,” I remarked, deflated. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this wasn’t what I’d thought it would be.

  “Look up.”

  I wiggled from underneath the bench a little and set my gaze to the sky. The stars were hard to see due to the city’s lights, but beyo
nd the shield of civilization illuminating the sky, I could see them, fading against the foreground. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never noticed the sky before.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, enjoying the view along with me. “Because you had too much. When you have little, you appreciate the little. It’s not your king bed, but it sure beats the ceiling. Shut up and get some sleep. Your voice is like a siren song to these pirates.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said quietly. As I kept my gaze to the sky, my concrete bed didn’t feel so uncomfortable anymore.

  The moment my eyes closed and I began to find comfort enough to sleep on the ground, Jeff’s thrashing forced me to peek at him from above me. He seemed to be fighting with something invisible and continuously muttered incoherently.

  Afraid he was going to hurt himself, I sprang into action and slipped out from underneath the bench to shake him.

  His eyes popped open and were wide and vacant. He bolted off the bench, letting several derogatory words slip from his lips. I only saw the glint of his makeshift weapon before it sliced through the layers of fabric keeping my upper body warm. The sting barely hurt until I fell backward and exposed my stomach. He straddled me sinking the blade into my flesh with reckless abandon.

  My pleas at him to stop were gurgled. My mind whirled with dizziness.

  “Oh, God!” He held his head, blinking rapidly. “Keaton? Keaton?” He shook me, but my reactions were delayed. I felt him pull me into his arms. The bouncing motion of him running through the streets.

  He ran.

  And he ran.

  The blinding, bright halogen lights and sterile environment told me we were in a hospital. Jeff’s panicked voice was an echo I could barely hear. “Help! Someone help my friend! She’s hurt real bad.”

  In my drug-induced sleep, something pulled me to wake up. Urgency hit me hard, screaming at me; You have to get out of here. I looked around the hospital room, feeling the prick of an IV in the crook of my arm.

  “Jane Doe is awake,” said a baritone male voice.

  I blinked away the haze, trying to focus on the voice. In an ill-fitted suit and thrusting a badge in my face, he introduced himself, “My name is Detective Robbins. I’ve been assigned to your case. Can you tell me your name?”

  I saw another officer in the doorway, holding up a paper while speaking to one of the nurses. I caught one glimpse of my picture and name on the sheet of paper.

  Panic hit me hard. I sat up, trying to figure out the best escape route. “May I have a glass of water?” I asked once the police detective in the doorway disappeared with the nurse.

  “Sure.” He gave me a fake smile, clearly less than ecstatic with my request. When he rounded the bed and picked up a pink pitcher, removing the plastic cup from the shrink-wrap, I made my move.

  I pulled the IV out of my arm, took a blanket from the bed with me, and darted out of the room. My legs were still partially asleep; my feet slipped around before becoming steady enough to allow me to walk outside my door. It was sheer luck that I was able to evade the panicked voices yelling at me from behind. Amongst the chorus of pleas for me to stop, I could’ve sworn I heard my mother and father. I never turned around to discover if it really was them who called my name. If I had, I might’ve had difficulties returning to the new place I called home.

  I found Jeff right where I found him the first time. His face was more sullen than normal as he surveyed the park for things to pack his cart with. He gave me a double-take. A brief glint of surprise and happiness flashed in his eyes before it quickly disappeared. “I’m glad you’re all right, mute”—he scowled at me—“but you and I both know it’s too dangerous for you to hang around me. Go home.”

  Shaking my head, I stepped forward. “I’ll be more careful,” I whispered, looking around in paranoia.

  “Nah, you shouldn’t be around me—”

  “Being around you is the safest I’ve ever felt. Don’t take that away from me. I never should’ve disturbed you like that. I don’t blame you, Jeff.” I stepped forward. “You’re not a bad man. I wouldn’t have spent months having lunch with you instead of my coworkers if you were. You’ve taught me so many things about how to be real in this world. Things that I never saw or realized in my other life.” Sighing, I looked down, knowing that he hated sentimentalities. “You’re not a bad person; you reacted that way because of something that was done to you. Please, let me stay.”

  He fought a smile and waved me over. “Come on and help me find some bags, and maybe we can find you some clothes, too.”

  He never apologized. He never needed to. Because when I woke up in the morning, I had a new set of clothes and a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. When I asked Jeff about it, he said that he had received it while panhandling.

  I didn’t believe him, because Jeff never panhandled. He said it was a way of seeking handouts and he’d work for what he wanted.

  I didn’t dig any further. I had my protection and my friend back and that was all that mattered to me.

  THE POUNDING knock on the door startled me. I was stuck between exhaustion and anxiousness. The mixture prevented slumber.

  The moment I sat up in bed, Jayme was there to greet me. The glint that used to be in her green eyes had faded away. The natural warmth and slight smile she used to show me was completely gone.

  My eyes darted to the floor, tormented with wanting to apologize to her.

  She tossed some things across the bed and dropped a basket full of makeup items next to it. “I’m here to help you get ready.”

  “I can do it on my own.”

  She stared at me, unmoved and inexpressive. She looked off at the window with a thousand-yard stare. “Noah must be losing his touch or going too soft on you because he likes you.”

  I stood, wringing my hands. “I’m sorry—”

  “No, Keaton. You really aren’t.” Her head snapped back to me, showing me a glimpse of her anger. It was gone quickly with her posture and facial expression relaxing into indifference. “I want to blame you for the way Reven ignores me, but he wouldn’t want that. I can’t blame you, I have to blame myself and atone if I want him to forgive me.” She looked up as if suddenly realizing I was still there. “If I were still the person I was when I first came here, I would’ve done the same thing.”

  “What did they do to you?”

  Her eyes darted up to mine, holding to fear and fury. “We never need to talk about it.”

  I looked down at the items she placed on my bed; red lace tanga panties, a matching demi bra, and very high red stilettos. I was never one to walk the stage in a bikini. A one-piece was my preferred outfit during the swimsuit competitions in the contests I attended.

  “You’re to wear this underneath your dress. Congratulations, you’re going to attend your first meeting at the Church of Rebirth.”

  After a painful wax of my entire body, dressing, and preparing my makeup, I was ready. On the brink of sliding my dress over my hips, Noah burst into my room.

  Jayme bristled at the sight of Noah in the doorway. Her head bowed and her posture curved. She quietly left the room while Noah’s eyes were firmly planted on her exit. When his hazel-blue eyes searched my body, I crossed my arms awkwardly, hoping to ward him away from continuing to cast his lascivious stare at me.

  He moved forward and took my arms down from my body with a smile. “We’re past shyness, aren’t we, princess? I’ve seen every single part of you naked and spread.” Giving me a wink that made me shudder in what I wished I could’ve titled as revulsion, he swiveled around, heading toward the bedroom door. Snapping his fingers over his shoulders, he ordered me to follow him. I grabbed my parka and a pair of boots, swiftly placing both on as I made my way to the door.

  At the door, Adam, Sander, Radley, Nadine, and Jayme were dressed and ready to make the trip to the “church.”

  We trudged across the pavement, dusted in a light mist of melted snow, making our way to a place I hadn’t seen from the atrium nor my view from
the window. As I looked around, I noticed the heavy amount of snow falling from the sky and the frigid breeze on my skin. I looked up at the cloudy blue sky, wondering how late it was in the winter season. I’d missed so much time and had lost track of the sunsets that I couldn’t be sure.

  The church was a two-story building, hidden behind dense trees. From the outside, it reminded me of a reformed movie theater. Faded rectangular shaped marks on the brick building indicated posters were once affixed to the exterior.

  The lobby was nearly gutted, save for the red carpet and a few tables, chairs, and lounges strewn about. I could hear the vibration of Reven’s voice on the microphone, resounding from another room.

  It was clear that the place was a multiplex with maybe two or three viewing rooms. After we all removed our coats and boots, storing them in the utility closet inside the lobby, we moved on. We were led to the room behind a glass counter toting several pamphlets and leather bound books on display.

  The room was split with stairs leading to a stadium-style seating arranged on a decline, leading to the small stage. Fifteen to twenty men and a handful of women dressed in their best casual business wear were seated in the front rows closest to the stage. The rear of the room was on level ground with several unoccupied couches and chairs. Most of the couches were convertible beds.

  My housemates began to take their positions on the other side of the aisle near the front of the room. When I moved to follow, Noah grabbed my hand and shook his head.

  I cast a look of inquisition his way, but he didn’t notice; his eyes were trained to the projection screen on the stage behind Reven.

  Reven adjusted his head mic as he paced the stage back and forth, engaging the crowd as he spoke about fulfillment and unrequited desires. He further discussed the sexual oppression enacted by the government and organized religion. He went on to claim that the audience should be above the law and the norms posed upon those he stated that were undeserving, because they didn’t work as diligently. He pointed to the row my housemates were seated in and claimed that it was the congregations job to save them—in turn, saving themselves—and they could do so by using them for their own needs to obtain atonement. “In using the helpless, the unworthy and the self-imposed misfits, you exalt yourselves,” he said, “as it should always be.