18. Millie
My fingers twisted in the loose fabric of my skirt, giving away the crazy high nerves riding me. I believed I could do this with ease, that it would be a fun new adventure. How damn wrong was I. This wasn’t an adventure; it was dangerous for someone untrained. Killian tried to talk me out of coming, to tell me the dangers involved, but my stubborn ass pushed back, thinking this would be easy, considering everything I already compiled about the cult.
Wrong. I was so damn wrong.
Not that I could do anything about it now except hope no one here could see behind the aloof mask I attempted to hold in place despite the churning in my gut. When the woman stood from the small couch and moved gracefully to her husband’s side, a jolt of insecurity rocked through me. She was gorgeous. Tall, long blonde hair, and skin that seemed to glow, but when I looked closer, there was something off about her eyes.
Before I could unravel what was off about her, Killian, or Kurt rather, glanced over his shoulder. The look he sent me and then Hunter clearly tried to communicate something, but I did not know what. Apparently, Hunter did, because before Killian turned back to face our two hosts, Hunter stepped even closer to my side.
“My wife, Mrs. Morgan.” I wanted to roll my eyes at that show of proprietorship. When he introduced me as Mrs. Morgan instead of my first name, like the other man had with his wife, it subtly gave insight to what my so-called husband thought of me. Not important enough to be addressed by anything other than his last name, which he obviously held in high regard. “Have anything good to drink around here?”
The other man, Simon, chuckled and gestured toward the gold bar cart along the wall of windows. “Of course, though I highly doubt the ladies would like to join us.”
Georgiana started toward me with a wide, face-splitting smile on her face. “So true. Mrs. Morgan, let’s leave the men to their whiskey or bourbon while we get to know each other.” Before I could respond, she snaked an arm through mine and was tugging me toward the doors we came through.
I knew better than to look at Killian, knowing he’d see every ounce of panic that I fought to keep hidden. Though at the doors, Georgiana paused and glanced over her slim shoulder, that wide smile dropping for just a moment.
“Does your bodyguard need to come? You’re safe with me, I assure you.”
“Her handler,” Killian called from deeper in the room. “And yes, he stays with her. My wife is a fucking train wreck,” I heard him mutter to Simon, who laughed as he poured amber liquid into a highball glass. “If it were legal, I’d put a leash on her instead.”
My heart constricted at the disdain and loathing in Killian’s tone, even though I knew it was all for show. His glare cut through me like I wasn’t even standing there. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed us—no, dismissed me. Even though I’d prepared myself to be treated this way, it still stoked a blazing fire of anger and disgust in my gut. I hated it, hated feeling like I didn’t have a voice all because of my gender.
Back out in the hall, Georgiana led me along the sparkling marble floor toward an ornately carved, gilded door. With that same plastic smile, she pushed it open and pulled me in behind her. Moving swiftly, she shoved at the door the moment we were inside to keep Hunter on the other side. The toe of his shoe wedged between the door and frame before it could close. His pointed scowl at Georgiana silently communicated his annoyance when he shoved the door back open and stepped just inside the small sitting room.
It wasn’t nearly as grand as the other room where we left the husbands. This one was more intimate, decorated in calming colors with comfortable-looking upholstered chairs and couches set in a small grouping. Massive vases filled with fresh flowers stood on various side tables, filling the room with their sweet aroma. The setting sun blazed through the windows that overlooked a sparkling pool.
“Would you like some tea?” Georgiana asked after patting my arm and stepping to a Victorian era-looking tea set. “One of the staff delivered it just for us.”
Remembering the personality I was told to portray, I shook my head and flopped down onto a couch. I bounced against the stiff cushion that looked way more comfortable than it actually was. “Have anything stronger than tea in that cart?”
“Marla,” Hunter growled from where he stood like a statue, back against the wall just to the right of the door.
“Oh, come on, he’s not even in here,” I complained. “Stop being so uptight.”
Georgiana held up a finger in a ‘hold that thought’ gesture and bent low, opening the double doors and exposing an array of wines. “Red or white?” She gestured to the bottles. Two, one white and one a pinkish color, sat in a bucket of ice already chilling while three bottles of red stood beside it already opened.
“All of them?” I said with a smirk. “It was a long-ass plane ride with that man.”
“White, then, so they don’t see the evidence on our teeth when we reconvene for dinner.”
“I like the way you think,” I said with a smile. My fingers drummed along my thigh, catching on the flowy skirt. I eyed the woman as she poured one very full glass of white wine, ensuring she didn’t slip anything into the drink. I hated doubting the woman, but we were in the heart of a dangerous cult. One couldn’t be too careful. “I like your outfit,” I blurted, not sure how to get the conversation going between us. I needed to use every second I could to gain information on anything and everything.
I swear Hunter’s eye roll was audible.
Sorry, I was new at this whole subtle interrogation thing. I read a book on covert operations, but reading and applying the information were two different things. My shoulders slumped. Maybe all I would ever be good at was being a professor. Those who can’t do, teach, or whatever that saying was clearly applied to me.
“Thank you, though my clothes don’t look nearly as comfortable as yours.” I listened for a haughty or judgmental tone, considering her outfit was snug and pressed to perfection, but there was none. I relaxed a little further against the couch’s stiff back after taking the offered glass of wine. “I apologize. I know little about you or your husband. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
I took a small sip of the crisp wine, the flavors exploding on my tongue. “There isn’t much to tell these days. I live the same day over and over again, under his thumb.”
“That must be difficult.” The cushion barely even shifted beneath me when Georgiana sat at my side and rested a hand along my knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I understand how easy it is to blend into the background, to allow life to just pass you by.” I nodded, fully engrossed in her words. Her clear, cheerful tone, the soft look in her eyes, and her serene smile drew me in like a moth to a flame. They trained the recruiters well here, it seemed. “That was me before… well, all of this.” She gestured around the room, that smile of hers growing.
“That’s great for you, but?—”
“I get if you’re skeptical about the classes and what we do here for couples. There are those who claim our views and methods are dated, but Pastor Paul created these classes carefully after years of research. His only goal is for couples to walk away stronger in themselves and their marriage.”
I took another sip, which Georgiana tracked with a smirk. “So, you and Simon… you two seem to have it all together now.” That was a lie. I saw the evil glint in Simon’s eyes and the way he studied Killian, then me. There was a predator-type quality in his gaze as it trailed over every inch of my trembling frame.
“Oh, yes, we fought like cats and dogs.” She laughed and patted my leg, hand moving a little higher up my thigh. I gulped down another large swallow. Holy fuck, this was getting awkward. “He dragged me here, our last-ditch effort before divorce. I thought he was crazy, but I should’ve known to trust him. This is where we are meant to be, where we belong. I’m happy and cannot wait for you to feel the love and see the light, too. Now we help others like us, like you and Kurt. Which, oh my goodness, he’s a sexy beast, isn’t he?”
“Simon?” I squeaked.
“No, your husband. He’s all man, if you know what I mean.” I couldn’t verbally respond without hissing, so I ended up nodding. “Pastor Paul helped us one on one, taught us how to strengthen ourselves first, which would then lead to a stronger partnership. He really is amazing.” I blinked, eyes wide at the awe in her tone while speaking about the controlling man. “He is beyond understanding, listens to anyone who reaches out, even when he has so many things going on—oh, and utterly brilliant. The man is so smart and kind. Just wait until you meet him.” She fanned her face and shot me a shy smile. “You’ll be begging for a few minutes alone with him once you meet him in person. There is something so captivating about a powerful man, isn’t there?” I opened my mouth, but she cut me off. “Though you know that or you would’ve already left your husband. Powerful men are our flames and us the fluttering moths.”
Another cold sip slid over my tongue and down my throat. Her words processed fast but still kept snagging on her last statement. Was that how they identified families to bring deeper into the fold? That would make them more vulnerable to someone like Gary Paul and the other men on the leadership team, while also identifying arrogant, narcissistic men to continue building their inner circle.
But why?
What was in it for them? That was something I could never figure out about this group. They hid everything well behind the marriage classes, sermons, retreats, and religion. I had a feeling once we uncovered what kept the core group of followers circling Pastor Paul, everything else would make sense.
“I guess,” I mumbled.
“The power that radiates from Pastor Paul is…” She shivered, fingers digging into my inner thigh. “So alluring.” I blinked at the woman. Did she have a crush on that bastard? “He created this safe place for those of us who want to live, love, and learn. The freedom from everything else society labels as important is what drives us all. We want to spread the love and knowledge to others like yourself so everyone can feel this.” She grabbed my hand and held it to her chest, right over her heart, which scraped my knuckles against her hard, fake breasts. “He’s bigger than life, more than you can imagine. I promise, you’ll have to hold yourself back from attacking him. Everyone wants to be the chosen one when he needs help to fuel his visions.”
My stomach dropped, and I carefully extracted my hand out of her grasp. The empty wine glass rattled along the side table when I set it down before it slipped from my tightening grip. “Visions?”
Her cheeks flamed pink, and she shook her head, standing quickly. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I guess I just feel a kinship with you.” Her smile was soft as she moved to the cart with my empty glass in hand. “I can feel the pain and worry tangled inside you, keeping you from truly living life to the absolute fullest.” After filling the glass again to the brim, she returned and sat beside me. “We can help you,” she whispered, leaning in closer. “You don’t need the alcohol to escape when you’re overjoyed with your life. There is nothing you’ll want to fade away from.”
I leaned back into the couch to put distance between me and the zero-personal-space woman. “That sounds…” Fake. Illogical. Unbelievable. “Magical.”
“And it is.” Wine sloshed over the rim of the glass when I jerked upright to face the unexpected male voice. Softly, he closed the door behind him, smiling at me and Georgiana, who practically vibrated with excitement beside me. That smile turned sharp when he glanced Hunter’s way, but only for a fraction of a second. “Thank you so much for keeping these two beautiful ladies safe while I had to step out.” He marched over to Hunter, hand outstretched. “Your courage and strength will be rewarded while here with us.”
After dropping Hunter’s hand, Pastor Paul strode closer. My skin crawled as if a thousand spiders ghosted along my arms and down my spine. There was violence in his smile, anger behind his bright eyes, and something evil in the way he held himself. Arrogance radiated off him like nothing I’d ever felt before.
My stomach churned as my unease and fear grew with every shallow breath.
Georgiana yanked me upright as Pastor Paul came to stand in front of us. Her fingers squeezed mine as he leaned in and kissed one of her cheeks, then the other. He leaned in to do the same to me, but I retreated a step, evading his touch.
His brows pulled in tight, and he sighed. “You’ve been hurt by this world. I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through so much.” He gestured to the couch where we were sitting before he entered, and Georgiana and I both sat like obedient little followers. “I’m—” He chuckled and laid a massive palm on top of Georgiana’s bare knee. “We are so happy you’re here, Marla. We’re here for you every step of the way as you follow your heart to the light, to happiness beyond compare.”
“How?” I asked, taking a sip of wine. Stomach empty from not eating on the plane, too nervous to even look at food, and topped with the full glasses of wine, I felt lighter, less panicked than when I first walked in.
Not sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Helping you heal from the inside out, finding true happiness and love for yourself and others. This world tells us we need more and more material things.” He shook his head, though not a single slicked-back piece of dark hair shifted. “That’s not the way to pure happiness. Here, we can help you find that spark for life again, and then, if you’re like so many others, you will want to help pass on the light to those who you used to be.”
“But how? How can this place give all that?”
He smiled, that hand on Georgiana’s knee sliding high enough to be inappropriate. He caught me tracking the movement and smirked. “I’ve been blessed with the ability to read others’ troubles and core fears. Some come from trauma in their past; others, it’s what they’ve done to themselves, depending on substances to keep them going.” He eyed my almost empty glass of wine. “Aren’t you ready to live, Marla? Ready to break through that darkness and loneliness that has kept you heavy for so long?”
I blinked at the soft hand that encompassed my knee.
“We can help you so you don’t have to hide who you really are. All your wants, desires, and joys can be exposed, allowed to run free. We will find it, excavate it, and then you’ll see.”
“See what?” My voice shook with the revulsion from his unwanted touch.
“That here, with me, you’re truly free.”
Georgiana sighed and laid her hand on top of Pastor Paul’s. “Yes, that’s exactly it. You’ve freed us from all our baggage so we can be happy, loved.”
My gaze flicked between the two as they stared deep into each other’s eyes.
“You’ll see,” Pastor Paul said, turning to me. “Now come, dinner is ready, and I’m eager to meet this husband of yours.”
Without thinking, I took his offered hand and allowed him to lead me and Georgiana to the door. I stared at the contact, swallowing down the bile climbing up my throat that his touch invoked. All I had to do was survive dinner, maybe drinks after, then I could curl up in Killian’s arms where I was safe.
It sounded easy.
Turned out… it wasn’t.