The Cult

Déjà vu.

The chopper lowered into the clearing, fresh powder on the ground after the first snow of the season.

My eyes were out the window, focused on the settlement, the sea of cabins, sculptures…and fucking freaks. My heart pounded so much it hurt with every single beat. My eyes were set, not from fear or sorrow, but hope.

Hope was the worst torture.

I pictured my little girl in my arms again, her blond hair soft against my skin, her eyes lighting up because she knew I would come for her. She never lost faith. Her daddy would come.

And her daddy would kill every single one of them.

The chopper touched down. The blades stopped.

Bartholomew removed his headset, in a black leather jacket with a black shirt underneath. His gun was at his hip. His eyes were on me as he waited for the blades to come to a complete stop. “You need a minute?”

“No.” I yanked off the helmet, threw open the door, and got out.

They were waiting, the guy with the smile, along with his cattle-skull fiends.

Bartholomew grabbed my arm and steadied me. “I handle this. You do not speak.”

I stared at him, unable to stop imagining myself carving that smile out of his goddamn face. Blood everywhere. All over the snow. All over my clothes. The sweet satisfaction of carving his face like a Halloween pumpkin…was indescribable.

Bartholomew seemed to know, because he pulled my gun from my holster then extended his palm, silently asking for the knife.

“We might need it.”

“My words are enough.”

I didn’t withdraw my knife.

“Benton.”

“He lied to us—”

“Benton—”

“Why the fuck do you protect them?”

His hand remained lifted between us. “That’s my business. Not yours. I told you I would get your daughter back if she’s alive. Now give me your fucking knife so I can do my job.”

I yanked it out and threw it in the snow. “Like I need it anyway…” I turned away and began the march across the clearing, my eyes focused on the freak with the smile, the one who held my gaze like he found this whole exchange amusing.

Bartholomew and our guys moved forward, inching closer, boots crunching against the snow.

Then they came to a standstill.

It was just like before, but there was no bag of bones at my feet.

Forneus stared at me for a bit before his eyes flicked to Bartholomew. “Another business-s opportunity. Delightful.”

I could crush his skull with my bare hands. My thumbs would dig into the sockets first until the blood poured down his face and he was permanently blind. Then I’d unhinge his jaw with my hands, rip it out of place—

“Same business opportunity—amended.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth shut and not demand my daughter. But I wasn’t myself right now, insane with rage, and I wouldn’t be able to handle this the best way possible. I just wanted violence. Bloodshed. Vengeance.

Forneus continued to smile. “What are your requests?”

“What you owe me.” Bartholomew kept his calm, and in between his simply spoken words were the subtle threat, a threat that he didn’t need to voice. “Let’s get it right this time.”

Slowly, that smile faded.

That’s right, motherfucker.

Silence. Forneus wouldn’t admit a damn thing or show his hand.

Bartholomew let the silence stretch on indefinitely.

My eyes flicked past them, as if I expected to see Claire and Beatrice in the background. My patience was getting the best of me.

Bartholomew broke the silence first. “Take this opportunity to remedy your mistake. Thank me for my generosity. Complete this deal as it should have been completed in the first place.”

Forneus stared.

Bartholomew stared back. “Now.”

“You—”

“This is your one and only chance, Forneus.” Bartholomew kept his calm. “Do not waste another moment of my time.”

Forneus held his gaze, his eyes shifting back and forth, a red tint flowing into his face.

My body was in duress. It didn’t know if it should breathe, writhe, convulse, rejoice. My breaths were irregular and deep, because I’d forget to exhale after every inhale. My boots were on the precipice of what I needed—so fucking close.

Forneus turned to his men—and nodded.

My chest nearly burst.

Claire.

She was alive.

She was here.

I swayed on the spot.

Bartholomew gave me a look that conveyed his words as clearly as if they were written on a page. Keep your shit together.

We waited for what felt like an eternity. A slow, painful eternity.

Forneus remained in front of us, that gloating smile gone.

We stared back and forth, the longest standoff in history.

Then I heard a woman’s voice. “Where are you taking her?” A cabin and trees were in the way of my ability to see her. “No! I go where she goes.”

The cattle skulls came in a herd, at least two dozen.

I couldn’t see behind them.

I instinctively stepped forward, needing to see.

Bartholomew’s hand was quick, grabbing on to my arm with the grip of a viper.

I steadied even though it took everything in me.

The freaks parted—and there she was.

Claire.

Her hand was clasped inside the palm of a woman I didn’t know, and that same woman held up Beatrice, like she was too injured to walk on her own.

But my entire focus was on the little girl coming toward me.

The breaths came in deep and fast, my eyes seared with heat and moisture, and it took all my strength not to fall to my knees and sob.

Claire stuck close to the woman’s side, her eyes down as if she was afraid to look at the freaks around her. She didn’t see me. Had no idea I was there. Just trusted the woman who held her hand to get her to their next destination.

They came to a stop several feet away.

The brunette woman stared at me, her eyes wide, as if she recognized me. “Claire…” She shook her head. “It’s okay to look.”

Claire trusted her instinctively and lifted her gaze.

Looked right at me.

It was like the first time I saw her when she was born, when she became my whole world, the single thing I loved more than anything in the universe. I was overwhelmed but unable to react, unable to do anything other than stare.

In disbelief.

The look she gave me… I’d never forget it. “Daddy!”

Oh fuck. My eyes watered even more.

She left the woman and sprinted toward me.

I dropped to my knees and caught her in my arms, squeezing her tight, my labored breaths nearly breaking my sternum. My hand cupped the back of her head, and I closed my eyes, my heart reunited with my body.

She squeezed me. “I knew you’d come, Daddy.”

I squeezed her harder, the tears breaking free, the sobs uncontrollable. I didn’t give a fuck about the men who watched. I didn’t give a damn that I looked weak and overwhelmed. This moment was the only thing I cared about. I couldn’t even talk to her…it was too hard.

Bartholomew spoke. “Fuck with me again, I’ll show you what happens.” He gave me a kick, telling me it was time to go.

I forced myself to my feet, didn’t wipe the tears away, and held her in my arms, just the way I did when she fell asleep on the couch and I carried her to bed.

The men supported Beatrice and helped her move forward.

I turned away and carried Claire back to the chopper, my arms tight around her, unable to believe that she was with me again, that her hair was against my cheek, on my neck, that she even smelled the same.

“Daddy, wait.” She smacked my shoulder. “Put me down.”

I was out of my mind right now, so I just did as she asked. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

She moved past me back the way we came.

I snatched her by the arm with lightning speed because no way in hell was she going back in that direction. “What are you doing?” I saw the woman who had held her hand, smiling despite the tears in her eyes. The cattle skulls began to move away and turned back to the cabins.

The woman gave a wave. “Baby, it’s okay.” Her voice broke when a sob escaped her throat. “Go home…”

“No!” She tugged on my arm. “Dad, I’m not leaving her here!”

Bartholomew and the men turned around to assess the commotion.

Forneus remained exactly where he stood, his eyes on me.

Bartholomew gave his warning. “Benton.”

I pulled Claire to me. “We have to go.”

She pushed me—literally pushed me. “No!” She ran away.

I sprinted after her, moving with more speed than I ever had, and I grabbed her again, keeping her from the woman. “Claire.” I didn’t want to yell. I just wanted to get her home, to get her out of this place.

The woman kneeled, tears streaking down her cheeks. “It’s okay…really.”

I pulled Claire back. “Let’s go. Now.”

She dragged her feet into the snow and screamed. “I’m not leaving her!” She sprinted to the woman and hit her like a ram.

The woman caught her, wrapping her arms around her, crying. “Baby, it’s okay.”

Forneus continued to watch me, his stare cold.

I walked back, keeping an eye on him but watching Claire at the same time.

Bartholomew was no longer calm. “Benton, we’re done here.”

Claire hung on to her—just the way she held on to me. “I’m not leaving you here. No.”

The woman pulled away so she could see Claire’s face, stroke her hair out of her eyes. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You go home with your dad…okay?”

I picked Claire up this time and threw her over my shoulder. There was no time for goodbye. It was time to get the fuck out of there.

She kicked and tried to wiggle free. “Dad, no!”

I held her with one arm, ignoring the kicks and hits.

“She saved me!”

I made it to the chopper with the men and Beatrice.

“Dad, she saved me! She protected me…” She started to sob. “Please…”

I lowered her to the ground and looked at her, watching her react in a way I’d never seen before.

The cattle skulls were gone. It was just the woman on her knees—the freak beside her.

My hand moved to her shoulder. “Claire, I’m sorry—”

“They were going to hurt me.” She wiped her tears away but kept crying. “And she saved me. They tried to make me take stuff, but she kept them away. She made the monsters go away…”

I studied her for seconds, absorbing those words and protecting myself from their truth as much as possible. I wouldn’t allow myself to wonder what happened here—because it would break me.

I turned to Bartholomew.

He already knew what I was going to say. “No.”

Claire pleaded with me, her wet eyes desperate. “Daddy…please.”

I got to my feet and faced my old ally, my old friend. “Let’s take her—”

“No.” The other men were in the chopper, so it was just the three of us in the snow. Beatrice was in the chopper, but she seemed to be too overwhelmed to speak…or too high. “That was not the deal.”

“Lying wasn’t part of the deal, but they did that anyway.” I faced him off, our eyes level. “We should take her as payment for the shit they pulled. This woman took care of my daughter—so I owe her everything.”

Bartholomew clenched his jaw then looked at Forneus—who hadn’t moved an inch.

Claire kept tugging on my sleeve. “Please…please.”

Without waiting for his agreement, I walked off. “Claire, stay here.”

He came after me. “I didn’t agree to this—”

“And I don’t give a damn.” Claire didn’t need to tell me what this woman meant to her because I could see it with my own eyes. I could see a woman who loved my daughter like I did, who took care of her when I wasn’t there. I wasn’t leaving her here to rot.

Forneus watched me as I returned.

I stopped in front of him, Bartholomew with me. “The woman comes with us.”

She remained on her knees, her breaths labored, like she couldn’t even dare to hope that she would leave in that chopper with us.

Forneus watched me, his answer soft. “No.”

“I’m not asking you.” I moved closer, wanting to bash his face into a tree until it was so bloody and disfigured that it wasn’t a face anymore. “We made a deal—and you lied. You lied to the Chasseurs. Your throat should be cut right now. Your eyes should be in my pocket. You kept my daughter away from me…and fucking lied.” My entire body shook because I was so fucking angry. “She comes with us—as an apology.”

His face mirrored mine, in a quiet rage. He wanted to kill me.

I wanted to kill him.

Glad the feeling was mutual.

My hand extended to the woman, ready to help her to her feet.

Her head turned to him, as if waiting for permission.

He continued to glare, to breathe hard, to suppress all his violent desires.

She finally took my hand—with a grip so tight it nearly bruised my hand.

I pulled her up, got her to her feet, and pushed her behind me. “Freak.”