Home > The Catacombs (Cult #2)(30)

The Catacombs (Cult #2)(30)
Author: Penelope Sky

“He poisoned your food before you brought it home.”

“How?”

“He poisoned all the meats and vegetables in the store. A lot of people got sick. Some died.”

“Oh my god…” He really was a serial killer. A sociopath. A psycho. “That…makes me sick.”

He stared at our joined hands.

“What are we going to do…?”

He never answered.

I studied his hard face, watched the way he stared at our joined hands. His thumb lightly brushed over my soft skin, petting me. Without blinking, he stared, as if his mind were somewhere outside the room.

I had been happy to be alive a moment ago—but no more. “Benton, we don’t have a choice—”

“Don’t say that again.” His eyes rose, their depths packed with hostility.

“Innocent people died—”

“And I don’t give a fuck if the Pope was one of them. That’s not an option.”

“It’s not worth it—”

“You’re family—so you’re worth it.”

My eyes started to water.

“I will take care of my family.”

 

 

When we walked out the bedroom door, I felt weak, just like I had all those other times. It always took a couple days to bounce back, to feel like myself again. The effects of the drugs still weakened my system and dulled my abilities.

Benton was there, his arm around my waist, being the crutch I needed.

Claire and Bleu were in the living room when we walked in, but her stuffed animals weren’t all over the couches like last time. There wasn’t a tea set on the table. The TV was on, but it didn’t seem like she wanted to watch it.

Her eyes settled on me—and it was the same look I’d received every time I’d returned to the cabin.

She left the floor and sprinted to me. “Constance!” She hit me right in the stomach as her arms latched around me.

Benton supported my back so I wouldn’t topple over. “Easy, sweetheart.”

Her face was smothered in my stomach. “Are you okay?”

My arms smothered her with the same ferocity, and I squatted down to the floor so we could embrace each other head on. I locked my arms around her and held her for a long time, my hand cupping the back of her head, taken back to memories I wanted to forget. “I’m okay, honey. Just a little tired. What about you?”

“I’m scared…”

“Don’t be.” I pulled away and cupped her cheeks. “I know that was scary, but I’m okay. Everything is okay.”

“You ran out of the house…and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing by staying home. That was exactly what you should have done.” I squeezed her shoulders next and gave her my best smile. “You’re so smart, honey. And you didn’t eat any of the food exactly like I told you.”

She nodded.

“Now that I’m home, let’s do something fun. You want to make some cookies?”

She still looked upset, but she gave a nod.

“Great. How about chocolate chip with walnuts?”

She crinkled her nose. “I don’t like walnuts.”

“You don’t?” I knew that, but I wanted to get her out of her funk. “I thought you loved them?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I said I hated them.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you said you loved them and couldn’t get enough of them.”

“No,” she said with another laugh. “They’re gross.”

“Alright. Then just plain chocolate chips. Come on, give me a hand.” I got to my feet and nodded toward the kitchen.

Now that she was in a better mood, she ran straight to the pantry to grab the ingredients.

I turned back to Benton, who sat on the couch with his brother. The two were in deep conversation, their voices too quiet to carry over to us across the room. Their heads were down, and two glasses of scotch were already on the coffee table.

 

 

It’d been a long day entertaining Claire, especially when all I wanted to do was lie in bed and rest, but by the time she went to bed, she was the same sweet and loving little girl that I wanted her to be. She was all smiles and chuckles. A beam of light in every room she stepped into.

“Thank you.” Benton appeared in my way in the hallway. “I know pretending everything is normal is the last thing you want to do right now.”

All I gave was a nod.

“Ready for bed?”

“Yeah.”

Benton turned off the lights and made sure the house was locked up before he joined me in the bedroom.

I helped myself to one of his t-shirts and got between the sheets, happy to be back in my bed.

Benton stripped down to his boxers, looking like a living sculpture with muscles made of marble, and then joined me. The second he was beside me, the heat radiated to every corner of the mattress, like the heater had just kicked on when the thermostat was cranked up.

I snuggled right against him the second he was close, using his hard-as-rock shoulder as a pillow. My hand rested on his hard stomach, and I tucked my leg between his knees. It was my favorite way to sleep, wrapped around a bear.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and left his lips there, his arm circling my waist and keeping me close.

The moment he kissed me, it was as if nothing had happened the night before, as if our lives together hadn’t been disrupted by an attack. It was just the three of us living simple lives under the same roof, taking care of Claire during the day and then each other during the night.

His deep voice pierced the darkness. “We need to move.” His lips moved against my forehead as he spoke, his coarse hair from his jaw scratching me.

I pulled away so I could look him in the eye. “What…?”

“You asked what we’re going to do. I think that’s what we should do.”

“Move…but where?”

“Canada. A lot of people speak French there.”

“You don’t think he’d come after me there?”

“He might. But the pursuit will be a major inconvenience. He’ll lose interest eventually. Here, it’s too easy to keep tabs on you without disrupting his life.”

“But Claire…she’ll have to change schools.”

“She’ll make new friends.”

“What about Bartholomew? I thought that was nonnegotiable.”

His eyes dropped for a moment. “I’ll talk to him.”

“He’s not going to change his mind—”

“Then I’ll make him change his mind. If he’s not going to help kill him, then this is the only other option.”

I propped myself up on my elbow as I held his hard stare. “I…I don’t want you to uproot your entire lives—”

“We stick together, baby. Period.”

 

 

Sixteen

 

 

Benton

 

 

I stayed home with her for a couple of days.

Bartholomew didn’t like it, but he didn’t dare say a damn word about it.

I took Claire to school in the morning, and in that snapshot of a moment, it felt the way it used to. When I was just a father and nothing else. My daughter was my entire world, and the cult didn’t exist.

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